October 30, 2281
188 Trading Post
0700 hrs
Alex awoke to his alarm, hand involuntarily silencing the feature with a tap of fingers. Squirming out of the bedroll, he stretched his back, arms and neck. Vertebrae snapped in various places.
The sun was cresting the mountains to the East, lighting the land in soft golden yellow of morning. Alex breathed, the air still held a crisp edge of the night temperature. Strolling a short distance, he began his routine.
Taking a stance, right hand out before him, left bent at the elbow, right foot forward, left back to spring into motion. He moved.
Palm thrust forward. Left upper cut. Turn on heel, thrust elbow. Left leg roundhouse kick. In his mind's eye, he saw them, shadowy enemies who formed from the darkness itself, charging forward. Alex blocked, countered, moving between offense where he could and defense when necessary, but never staying in either one, always shifting, changing.
The last of his enemies fell; Alex breathed as his mind returned to reality. Perhaps fifteen minutes had passed. Wiping the sweat from his face, he began the second half: stretches, pushups, abdominal curls while hanging from a table, and squats while holding a piece of concrete over his head. Whatever was available to him was adapted into the routine; it always changed with location.
The second half of the routine consumed another fifteen minutes, and by that time, Boone awoke. The sniper's sleeping habits, having been disrupted by night shifts, seemed to be adapting to a sleeping pattern of night and day. But those shifts could still be seen on the man, small tells of being unaccustomed to hours of unconsciousness during the night.
Retrieving the toiletries, Alex excused himself to wash inside the tent, currently unoccupied.
The reading last night was… incredible. In one evening, more words than he could count were added to his memory and knowledge with only the first ten pages being read. And they would read again tonight as well, and continue until the book was done, and then find a new book and keep reading.
The woman in his thoughts still lay abed, nestled within blanket and canvas sack peacefully. Alex found her rather strange, a puzzle, but an intriguing one. She stirred in her sleep but did not awaken.
Finishing his cleaning, Alex donned his armor once again. He tested the material as it lay against his skin, running through a series of physical movements to insure it still held. No need for oil as of yet, but it could… do with a washing sometime. It was beginning to retain odor o' Alex.
Originally intending to cross the overpass and buy breakfast, Alex saw in the distance something much more economical. Grinning, rushing back for the RatiConfector, he knelt on the bridge, sighting through the scope as the gecko babies came into view.
A larger gecko, an adult, was with them, keeping watch over its charges. 'Breakfast, lunch and dinner all in the same hour… Today is my lucky day,' he thought.
Slow breath. Steady pressure. Pfft. The sound of the rifle was hardly louder than a sneeze, but the round entered the adult's skull with deadly accuracy. Confused, the infant geckos hesitated. They were both dead swiftly. Running, Alex laid the rifle down by his still unmade bedroll and dashed off towards the gecko carcasses.
Nothing had come to claim his kills as of yet, so he took the gecko infants by the tail in one hand and then grabbed the tail of the adult and slung it over his shoulder, dragging the carcass up to the overpass and the small site where his companions awaited. In the time Alex had been gone, Veronica had awakened.
Her short hair, just coming to her neck, was disheveled as she sat up in her bedroll. Turning his way, her eyes flew open as she beheld the three kills. Her mouth dropped open, watching as Alex dragged the large body before her. A grin spread on his face at her expression.
"Mornin', Miss Santangelo," Alex said as he passed.
Lugging the heavy bodies across to the picnic table, he set the infants down and the adult at his feet and then retrieved his machete.
"ED–E, music please," Alex said. The robot, resting on the picnic table, tuned into Radio New Vegas, just beginning to play an upbeat swing piece of a man with a deep voice. The man could not be called singing as much as… crooning the words.
In ten minutes, Alex had hide, organs, and racks of meat, some of which remained on the bone, such as the ribs, resting and ready to be prepared. Veronica watched the whole procedure, following his blade as it cut at the muscle and sinew while his hands pried the carcasses apart.
"While I would not mind serving you breakfast in bed, miss, we have a long road ahead of us…" Alex stated.
Veronica nodded and pulled herself from the bedroll. Taking her bag, she entered the tent to change from the clothes she had slept in.
Of the three kills, the greatest prize was the adult, a female, carrying an egg. Setting aside the delicate vessel, Alex set the ribs above the fire Boone had prepared during the dissecting. There was a skillet by the fire to be used by travelers, cleaned out and left behind to be used by others.
Taking the skillet and setting it atop a makeshift grill of cinder blocks with a metal grate resting between the stacked bricks, Alex positioned the egg and brought it down with a sharp tap. The crack spread, egg white and yoke dropped into the metal vessel, filling the old piece of iron to the brim. Yoke centered to resemble a yellow eye. Leaving the egg for Boone to watch, he tended to the meat.
Veronica exited from the tent, raising her nose into the air to smell the aromas of cooking.
"Wish I had something to add for flavor," she commented. Coming to sit at the table, Veronica looked around at the assorted meat and hide to be cured.
"I'm curious," Alex said, and Veronica looked up. He was cutting larger pieces of meat into thin strips, prepared to be dried within the heat of the fire.
"You want to travel with us, but for what reason?" Turning away from his work, Alex looked Veronica directly in her eyes.
She shrugged. "I'm curious about other civilizations, other groups surviving out in the wasteland as compared to the methods of the Brotherhood."
Her smile was innocent, warm and lovely but also held back other reasons. And so he pressed. "That's not the only reason though."
Looking down at her hands, Veronica spoke in a lower tone. "It's… tense between myself and… other people in the order. I have certain views, they disagree, we argue and people are angry all around, and nothing gets resolved. AND my outspoken nature has landed me this duty." Veronica huffed, fingering a corner of her hood.
"And what duty is that?" Alex asked. The meat was cooking evenly, and the egg had turned mostly white. Handing Boone a metal lid that lay among the communal utensils, the egg was closed off to trap more heat.
"Requisitions and procurement specialist, which is a very nice and long way of saying I do a lot of grocery shopping and trading. Normally I work as a Scribe, categorizing any tech we find, studying and finding other locations where more tech might be. Basically a machine librarian…" Veronica gave a small laugh before continuing.
"But I want to see other places other than just the trading outposts I've been to: Vegas, Lake Mead, to name a couple. You know, there are settlements out East that are still so irradiated their water is undrinkable, and yet Mead is a huge body of clean water."
Veronica could almost be described as starry–eyed as she talked of the places she wanted to see. It was nice to hear her talk, nice, in fact, to have a human being to talk to who actually would respond with more than short answers or grunts and snorts. Boone was good to have in a fight, as was ED–E, but for conversation, not so much.
Boone signaled him, and Alex came to the man's side. Lifting the lid to reveal a perfect, giant, wholly unbroken egg, he grinned as way of approval. A turn and the egg rested within the lid, which the sniper carried to the table and set in the center.
Boone sat, waiting for the remainder of the meal to be done, staring off into the distance, not really thinking of anything… except the idea that he now traveled with an admitted member of the Brotherhood of Steel, a robot, and a man who did not know of his own past. He snorted, with one thought to explain the whole situation: 'Only in the wild wasteland could anything be possible and happen at the same time.'
Smells of meat filled the air immediately within the camp. Veronica was getting hungry from the thick aroma, as was Alex. Checking the flesh to see it was cooked through with just a slim sliver of pink in the center, a nice balance of flavors between rare and well done.
Serving the rack of gecko ribs and cut up gecko steaks, Alex tended to the drying meats, blood draining in rivulets. Removing the strips, he laid them inside on a square sheet of canvas, which held previous supplies of dried rations. The meat was lain down within the sack, rolled up, folded over and tied at the end. Further treatments would be necessary, but they could wait until tonight.
Joining his friends, Alex set to the meal with gusto, loading his plate with egg, gecko rib and steak strips. Veronica produced some bottles which contained beverages of mixed fruit juices and honey. The sun shone and music played. There was good food and drink to be had. And the company was good. Few things could come close to these moments of peace.
Alex and Veronica cleaned the dishes, while Boone cleaned the camp, not packing the bags but setting items right to be packed properly by their respective owner. In the distance a different sound could be heard.
At first Alex thought it was gun fire, almost ducking and pulling his pistol when he realized the sound was… odd. There was a catch in the cracks and an inhuman growl of something very old.
The beast issuing the sounds came into view, cresting a rise north of the 188, rolling down the highway on massive wheels with a column of black smoke billowing in the light breeze that swept across the desert.
The old machine was a dull green color with a scratched and faded white star within a circle on the door. A pair of Brahmin skulls rested on the grill of the truck, horns forward as though charging, and the bed was laden with boxes and every container imaginable. That the overburdened systems did not die out or a stiff breeze did not tip the whole pile over was either luck or a miracle.
Black smoke gushed from the pipe, filling the air behind with a diaphanous curtain of burned fuel. The engine caught. The gunfire sounded again, sparks flying from the exhaust as though the machine was attempting to breathe fire.
The truck reached the foot of the hill to the trading post, and the driver, now visible, gunned the engine. The old machine gained momentum, reached the bottom and began to ascend the shallow incline and began the struggle anew. Again the driver jerked, and the beast finally came to rest at the bridge some distance from where the four companions stood watching.
The engine cut; smoke continued to rise from the exhaust. A door opened, and music could be heard from the open cab. The atypical twang of the wasteland reached their ears as the driver stepped onto a foot ladder and then down onto the old pavement.
The woman removed her hat, a dusky tan and green boonie hat. She wore a military camouflage jacket, a pair of old jeans that hugged her tone legs, and a pair of golden–scaled boots.
Veronica whistled with admiration. "Now there's a successful woman," she said.
Alex looked at her with eyebrow raised.
Indicating the boots, she said, "Golden gecko hide, not easy to come by." Nodding once, Veronica continued to watch the woman as she disassembled parts from the massive pile on the truck bed.
Resuming cleanup, Alex watched the woman open crates of weapons, ammo boxes of more calibers than he could name offhand, even slide out a hand-loader bench from an affixed crate on the truck's side. The final piece was a sign, fixed to stand with deadbolts.
And with the reading of the last evening, Alex read his first words… 'Arms Merchant: Guns, Ammo, Explosives. NCR Army and Civilians discounted.'
A grin spread across his face. He could read, truly read. Dropping the bedroll in his hands, he stepped up to Veronica.
He placed a hand on her shoulder, and she looked up, only to be enveloped by arms with a bear's strength. The embrace did not last, but the grin on Alex's face when he released the vice-grip hug stopped any retorts of indignation.
Nodding to the sign of the merchant, Alex said, "I can read that."
Veronica looked to the sign and then at the man, whose boyish, happy grin was infectious as she felt one peel her lips apart.
"Mihi donum magnum dedisti. Tibi meam altissimam gratiam ago." Alex said to her.
Veronica eyes widened, wondering what he had just said… and why he had spoken that language. Boone heard the voice as well, and he stopped his own packing and watched as Alex returned to his own pack, now mostly filled except for the bedroll.
Veronica glanced at the sniper. Boone looked at the scribe. She gave a gesture to mean 'later,' and he nodded, returning to the last articles to be stowed away. Five minutes later, and the group was ready to go, except that Alex wanted to peruse the items of the merchant, the man wearing the smile on his face as he read and re-read the sign upon the truck.
Boone shrugged as way of agreement, and Veronica said yes. A wider smile broke out on Alex's face, and he lead the small group with a spring in his step to the new arrival baring gifts of lead and steel.
The merchant woman nodded at them, sitting in a foldout chair, cigarette between her lips and a bottle of beer between her legs. A cowboy tune was playing on the radio about jangling spurs, which sparked a completely random thought in Veronica's mind.
"Hey Alex, that's what you need," she said.
He turned to her with a raised eyebrow, but his smile was still stuck on his face.
"Spurs with jangling bits on them. Just add a duster coat to go over the armor, and you'll be a proper wandering man, who brings justice and iron to every fight." Veronica said with a grin.
Alex laughed. "Whelp Miss Veronica, I'll keep my eyes out fer' a proper duster coat and some spurs then," he said with a broad grin and tap of the hat brim.
The merchant laughed at their antics. "Well, I don't have any dusters or spurs, but I got the iron to deliver your justice." She gestured with her cigarette in hand, "Go ahead and look around. I'll trust you not to take anything before paying, or else" she said, picking up a pistol grip shotgun from the ground. "Bean bag shot only, but still hurts," the merchant finished with a smirk, cigarette between her lips.
Alex browsed the various items for sale. The woman had a very wide selection of nearly everything he could think of. In fact, with the amount of equipment this truck carried, a small group would be well outfitted for long term deployment.
While Alex was glancing over boxes full of ammo, Boone had taken apart his rifle to inspect the machine. Veronica was chatting with the merchant woman and the two were being quite animated in their discussions.
His hand fell onto the stock the shotgun at the small of his back, considering. He carried enough firepower and a twenty gauge was not a large caliber weapon. Alex decided to sell the shotgun, more to lighten his load than for the caps. Setting aside the weapon and the associated ammunition, he set two boxes of ten millimeter rounds and one of .556 rounds for the two rifles on his back.
Alex heard a sigh to his right. Boone set down the bolt system of the rifle, and it was obviously too old for proper function in the long term. A box appeared in the sniper's hand within rested a brand new bolt, the forged steel gleaming in the sunlight.
Rounding the truck, Boone muttered, "This will set me back," to himself.
Alex tapped the man light with his elbow."Need some cash?" he asked, but the sniper refused.
"I take care of my own guns. Whatever is done to it comes from my pocket, my responsibility. Thanks, but no thanks." Boone walked off to the merchant and made his purchase.
Ammo boxes piled, Alex made for his own purchase, and the merchant whistled, "You trying to claim title of 'Lord Death' with all that firepower?" She asked with a smirk.
He laughed but made no comment as the caps were exchanged for ammo. In total, Alex now carried 350 rounds equally for both the service rifle and RatiConfector, 200 for the pistol and 100 for Lucky. The shotgun and ammo rounded out the purchase and left him five-hundred fifty caps richer.
Smirking at the pouch of 'coin' in hand, Alex stowed the money away in his pack. Turning northward to continue on the road for the towers the distant city, he stopped when Boone called his name.
The sniper stood, pack at his feet, loading his rifle newly fitted with the bolt. "You said something earlier. What was it?"
Confused, Alex looked to Veronica, who seemed nervous.
"Earlier, when the truck pulled up, and the sign came out, you said you could read it. Then… you said something else… in Latin" She said. Her feet moved slightly. She avoided his eyes but watched his hands, and her right hand flexed ever so slightly, unconsciously preparing to deploy the weapon.
Nerves: reactionofreadinesstopotentialhostile.Discomfort:uncertaintyofbeliefinallyandpotentialfriendcouldbedangerous. Alex nodded.
"As I stated last night, the bullet took my memories but not skills I seem to posses, intuitions and instincts I hold, nor speech. Apparently, somewhere in my life, I learned to speak that language, but I do not know where. I have had… dreams of someone, teaching, raising me from childhood. I don't know who this person is, but in the dreams, I feel safe in that place."
Veronica listened, as did Boone, but their expressions betrayed their underlying opinions.
Veronica nodded and then hitched her pack onto her shoulders and looked ready to travel, accepting his stated facts.
Boone remained suspicious, but held his tongue. He nodded as well and set his pack onto his shoulders.
"Hey," the gun merchant called, strolling up to the group. "You have a nice 40mm grenade rifle there. Good gun, but out here you might need something with a little extra." She gestured below the overpass. "There's a merchant down below, a jerk, but has good stock, and if you get on his good side, he'll sell. He's with the Gun Runner's, and they have a lot of guns and sell only to the right people. He might have something of an improvement over your forty."
Taking her advice the companions made for the underpass. The man – Alexander, ironically – was obnoxious and condescending to the group, but after some words from Alex and the jingle of money, the man loosened the tight hold on his supplies. Among those items was another grenade rifle, but it was certainly an improvement.
Alexander loaned Alex a box of dummy grenades of equal size to the 25 mm rounds the weapon utilized. Aiming at the wall, the rifle spat dummy explosives one after another, and real explosives would have rendered an enemy to annihilated bits of flesh. Alex smirked and paid out a thousand caps for the gun, a box of fifty grenades and parts for improving the machine's speed. The 40 mm reduced the total cost of the purchase to five hundred.
With a smirk upon his face, Alex set north with Boone, Veronica, and ED-E. But one had eyes for a much closer installation, something she swore to a friend she would do when given the opportunity. That opportunity finally had presented itself.
"Hey guys," Veronica said, somewhat uncertain if she should ask but committed to do so.
Alex turned fully to her, attentive and listening. Boone turned his head but not his body, listening and watching with one ear and one eye.
"There is… one place I do want to go. Not for myself but a friend." Eyes downcast, she said more to herself than the two men. "Who couldn't be here…"
"Where is it you wish to go, Veronica?" Alex asked, voice soft and conciliatory, attempting to gain more information.
Looking up, she pointed. "Helios One, it's called, the site of the last stand of the Brotherhood here in the Mojave. I want… I need to go there… Pay my respects, and say sorry for my friend." Looking up, nervous and uncertain if the tall man would agree, but Alex gave her a considerate look.
"That is a fair distance to go" he said, turning south in the general direction his map indicated the facility "at least five hours" Alex thought aloud. He began to measure out distances and time. The whole day would be committed to Helios One by his estimation.
Veronica shifted on her feet, a deepening discomfort in her gut. Why did she have to open up about this now? Vegas still lay hours north and she asked to turn around for her own want. She had asked to go with them and now she had made a fool of herself. Damn her curiosity.
"We can spare the time, I think" Alex said.
Boone was not surprised, judging by the man's actions to divert time for checking on Charlie Station.
Veronica turned her gaze to Alex, surprised, but did not voice such, merely followed when the man set their path south.
The group fell into a swift pace as the site of the objective was a tempting target to reach, a place of shelter away from the blistering elements of the desert.
On the roadside Alex stooped and dug something from the ground. Turning, he presented a small cluster of flowers to Veronica, still held with their soil. In that old language, unheard by most today, the man said, "Iacere super loco cineris ut victumae possint esse aput pace," and again in English,"To lay upon the site of death so the fallen may be at peace."
The flowers were small, fragile and so very light, and yet in his large hands, they seemed safe, as though protected by a valiant sentinel. Veronica took the flowers, dirt and all, smelled them, and smiled at Alex, who nodded, brushed one petal of a tiny white blossom and then turned back to the road and their destination. The flowers were beautiful.
Helios One Power Plant
1100 hrs
The massive building of the Helios One power plant stood high above them, its old walls with patches of sprawling concrete, pock marking the façade reminiscent of aggressive acne, standing strong despite two centuries of weathering. Broken glass in every window frame, sun–bleached brown walls… and a low electrical hum barely reaching the edge of perception, for humans at least.
ED–E almost every ten seconds informed them of his discomfort with the electrical interference to his systems. The two men shrugged, and Veronica gave the floating robot a sympathetic pat.
"I know it's uncomfortable right now, but we won't be here for very long," she said with a smile on her face. On a mound of earth with cacti and desert flowers struggling to survive with the arid environment, Veronica knelt, dug a shallow hole and replanted the flowers in the midst of this small, natural garden.
Standing she stretched out her right arm, turned, and the steel encased her fist. Setting the metal above her heart, head bowed, Veronica intoned, "Forged in fire, we stand against the evils of the past. We, who are born of steel and blood, stand vigil until the clarion of war rings never more." Veronica sighed and stood straighter.
Alex observed the posture, strong, self assured with purpose and belief, and he stated rather than asked, "The tenets of your order mean a great deal to you."
Veronica nodded. "Anyone born to the Brotherhood is taught to believe in the tenets." Veronica said as she turned to him, but in her eyes there was held an undercurrent of thought which belied her words.
"But your own belief is strained… by what?"
She looked down, and for a moment, Alex felt a discomfort that he asked something too personal, but Veronica nodded.
"There are some who take the Codex's words so literally that they are unable to believe anything else is worth considering, that their way – the Elders' way – is the only way, and everyone else is wrong. All we do now is just gather and hoard weapons and tech, which is never used. No more exploration, no more contact with other civilizations, just…" Biting her lower lip, Veronica looked nervous. These thoughts were obviously private and never discussed with anyone within the order.
Releasing the lip, Veronica finished, "… just stagnation, and if we can't change, can't adapt, then… We'll die out."
Tilting his head to the side, Alex asked, "Is that why you waited at the trading post? Hoping someone would come along that you could follow to see other places, learn of ways to help the Brotherhood to survive?"
Nodding, Veronica looked down, embarrassed. The perceptive insight had hit a nerve, one she always argued with McNamara and always lost because he was so frustratingly stubborn.
Other members she argues with, and… some of them scare her, so righteous were they it came to whisperings of dissent and deceit behind her back.
Alex moved forward. His left hand removed his hat, and he bowed his head. "Animi cinerum, qui sub Urso et Ferro intulerunt, recuba in pace nam tuum officium factus est." Raising his eyes to Veronica's, he said again, "Soldiers of the fallen, who marched under the Bear and Sword, lie down in peace, for your service is done." A smile, and the hat returned to it proper place.
With a breath and a nod, Alex hitched his pack so it rested comfortably against his armored back. He pivoted, intent for the road, but movement on the right caught his attention: NCR troopers, weapons drawn and jogging at them.
"Damn," Boone said, "patrol unit."
The troopers came into firing range, but they did not hold their weapons ready to fight. An officer marched, her stride angry, at the head of the patrol.
"Just what the hell do you think you are doing out here? This facility is NCR property; only authorized personnel are allowed within a hundred yards of here." The woman officer, a lieutenant by the markings of the uniform, stood before them with an irritated stance, crossed arms and possessing the air of someone generally pissed off.
Boone was the one to answer first. "Craig Boone, NCR First Recon."
Alex followed the sniper's example, "Alex Hugh, courier and mercenary."
With Veronica chiming in hesitantly, "Veronica Santangelo, uh… tech specialist."
Boone continued, "We were merely curious about this place Lieutenant but we'll be on our way."
Alex began to move when the Lieutenant called out once more. The officer approached, a name on her uniform read 'Haggerty', Alex smirked slightly. She passed the two men, not even looking at them, and bore down on Veronica. The Lieutenant was taller than the Scribe, with the uniform, service weapons and demeanor of an aggravated bear the female officer was outright intimidating.
"You're a tech specialist?" Haggerty asked, and Veronica nodded. Grabbing the Scribe by the arm, the Lieutenant pulled her towards the front of the building. The patrol followed the women with Alex and Boone behind.
The main entrance to the facility was locked, but Lieutenant Haggerty had a key, and the large steel doors recessed into the walls and floor. Veronica was about to be dragged into the dark entry way when her new friends came around the corner.
The sniper Boone was calm, seemingly unconcerned, but his stride and balled fists showed his irritation. Alex… well, he was visibly agitated. Fists clenched, stride long and face turned in a grimace. He came up to Haggerty and gripped her forearm holding Veronica. The area became quiet save for the sounds of weapons being readied and pointed at the tall man.
Haggerty turned, looked at Alex, then to the grip on her arm. A tug, and she was free as was Veronica, but he stood before her and the Lieutenant as a wall.
"What do you want with my companion?" he demanded, back and legs stiff as he stood among a circle of aimed rifles.
Haggerty crossed her arms. "We are trying to get this facility working at a hundred percent. It's at five. The idiot inside doesn't know shit about what he is doing, and he was hired anyway because he ran his mouth off. So I want to find someone capable to do this so I can stop being chewed out by my CO every other damn day. So, fine, I'll ask nicely. Get this place running, and I'll overlook your trespassing." The last was directed at the three travelers, but Haggerty was looking at Veronica.
Alex turned to Veronica with a raised eyebrow. She nodded, Boone grunted and ED–E gave an affirmative.
The four entered the Helios One facility, following Haggerty through a twisting series of hallways, through a room of stairs and catwalks. The place was large and very much a maze, and yet the Lieutenant walked down corridors, through doors and across catwalks as though she had a map of the floor plan in her head.
About ten minutes since entering the facility, the group arrived in what seemed to be a laboratory with consoles lining the walls, readouts and analytical systems, measuring tools and other arcane and indescribable device occupying every corner of the room. Working at one of these was a man with long hair, a lab coat, and for some unknown reason, polarized sunglasses.
"Hey doc," Haggerty called out to the man, who jumped and turned in the same instant. A grin spread across his face.
"Yoah! L-T Hagger-ty what's shakin' baby?" The man said in an idiotic, sing-song voice, bopping his head back and forth in time with each word.
The Lieutenant merely grunted with annoyance before speaking. "I brought in more help Fantastic: a self-proclaimed techie, but she does not shoot her mouth off and make idiot comments as you do."
The man, Fantastic, reeled in mock pain with a hand to his heart. "Ow baby why ya' gotta be that way? I know you know you love Fantastic. Why? Because he is Fantastic, and there ain't no one better. Now Fantastic wouldn't mind meetin' your friends, especially her." The fool looked to Veronica, who took a step back in revulsion.
"But I gotta get back to it ya dig, power ain't comin' down 'em lines on their own… Unless Fantastic is at work." The man spun on a heel fully around to face them again, struck a pose that exuded idiocy, and finally set back to work.
Veronica nudged Alex in the ribs and stood on her toes to whisper in his ear, "That's actually for the intercom system. You can tell by the knobs and switches."
He looked at her with a silent question apparent by his facial expression.
Another man stepped out from a adjacent room, also wearing a lab coat, but he approached the group of people.
"Lieutenant, always a pleasure," the man nodded. Turning to the travelers, he introduced himself to Veronica first. "Ignacio Rivas of the Followers. A pleasure to meet you, Miss…"
She took his hand and shook. "Veronica Santangelo," she said.
Alex and Boone introduced themselves, and Rivas beckoned them into the room from which he had just come while Haggerty departed for the entrance.
"I apologize for Mr. Fantastic's attitude. He is a fool but harmless, if irritating," Rivas said as he offered the only chair in the room to Veronica, while Alex and Boone sat on the floor and leaned against the wall.
Rivas leaned against a console, currently off-line. "Mr. Fantastic came here much as you were, dragged by the arm. He has since proven mostly useless but managed to align some of the solar arrays properly. No one, however, can access the main control units presently though as they are protected by a force of combat machines and turrets."
"The Brotherhood of Steel was here prior to the NCR. They activated those defenses I assume?" Alex asked, and Rivas acknowledged with a nod.
"Between the robots and machine gun turrets the main control is sealed. Some troopers attempted to disable the systems just recently. They never returned," Rivas continued.
Alex watched Veronica as the man spoke. Smallmovementofcalvesandfeet,clenchingofhands,clasping,listeningbutnotpayingattentionexceptatmentionsofBrotherhood.Shameatsomething.
"At your being here, I assume the Lieutenant believes you can somehow solve our issues. I understand her want for results. Her commanding officer has been here a number of times, often chastising her for lack of progress. The man is unable to realize the situation."
When Rivas finished, Veronica looked up at him."Have you found anything here about some old world tech, something powerful… and dangerous?" she asked, anxiety plain in her face as she sat. Rivas nodded, and Veronica looked down.
"Fantastic found references first but did not grasp its potential. I have found several instruments throughout the facility: shock sensors, telemetry readouts, energy output monitors. All dedicated to a single name: Archimedes." Rivas shook his head, his expression shameful, perhaps at the folly of humanity for leaving behind yet another weapon to commit annihilation.
"We were dragged in here against our will. Why should we do anything they want us to do?" Alex asked.
Veronica turned to him. "I was dragged in here; you two just followed. They obviously just want me." She looked down once again. "I guess I'll have to do it." Returning her attention to the two men, whom she thought could be her new friends, Veronica smiled sadly. Again she would be alone.
"You don't need to stay. You can go onto New Vegas and find the guy who shot you." She turned away again.
"No." It was Boone who spoke. Standing, the man looked down at her. "I don't leave people behind." Coming to his feet, Alex stood with the sniper. The courier nodded as well.
Unbidden her eyes grew moist. It was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to her.
"If you are committed to restoring this facility to its full power, there are two consoles that must be activated and the network reestablished to open the tower in which the control room is held. These are located on the Eastern and Western edges of the solar array. But there still remains defenses within the tower…" Rivas was cut short by the unwanted attentions...
The fool had been listening around the corner since the talk had begun, and he chose now to make his appearance. "Na-uh, no one's getting this place up and running… but Fantastic. These NCR guys are paying good caps to get power to the Strip, and I intend to deliver in full. After I get this place up and going, mine and Haggerty's fine ass are gonna' party until we can't see straight."
Despite the only light in the room being a single lantern, the sunglasses shone golden upon his face. The man wore a cocky self-assured grin which revealed just how much of an idiot he truly was. But he took the stupidity even further.
"Hey, babe," Fantastic addressed Veronica, "you wanna party after I'm done here? Because Fantastic has got the goods… and the gear," he said with a gyration of hips.
A hand descended upon his shoulder, and the idiot turned. "Hands off the Fantastic man-" Only to have a brick of a fist slam into his gut, driving the breath from his lungs. A knee cracked into the side of his face, and the irritating man fell to the floor unconscious.
All eyes in the room were on Alex as he stood over the body of Mr. Fantastic. Looking up, he saw the shocked eyes staring. "He bothered me," he gave as the reason with a shrug.
Standing, Veronica stepped over the unconscious man on her way out of the room. "We have work to do, I guess. Might as well get to it," she said in a cheerful voice. Boone and Alex followed behind.
Helios One Facility, Solar Array Field
1130 hrs
The sun shone down upon a great expanse of mirrors, all partially reflecting the sun's light. Veronica held up her hand to shield her eyes, but it was impossible to see properly. The whole area was bathed with intensified rays.
A shadow crossed before her, a shield. Looking up she saw Alex, holding out to her the glasses he wore. "Take them. They will help," he said.
Veronica looked between the glasses and his face. "They're yours. I can't take them." She pushed them back, but the tall man pulled out another pair of sunglasses which he set in place of the one in hand
Veronica thought the polarized lenses looked rather familiar. With a flat tone of voice she said "you stole those off of Mr. Fantastic didn't you?" to which he smirked, touched the frame of the glasses.
"He will not be in need of these anyway, and he only wore them because his eyes were so bloodshot they were a full ruby red," Alex said.
Veronica smirked as she affixed the sunglasses, and the trio, plus robot, walked down a ramp. A small camp was set up nearby at the edge of the solar field.
And as in his previous observations of NCR camps, Alex found the same commonality: laziness. The troops sat on cots and chairs; two burly men arm wrestled; a few were napping in the heat, divested of their arms and armor.
Shaking his head, Alex studied the aerial map upon the PIP–Boy screen. The solar array consisted of several acres of barren land. The Eastern and Western edges were a distance of three–quarters of a mile from where they stood now. And he was finding the tint of the glasses on his face annoying, casting light into a strange color to the more preferred grey shade of the other pair.
"So we have two locations, both at the edge of this field, in opposite directions." He looked to the three companions and thought. Shrugging, he said, "Split up, two and two. Veronica and ED–E go west; Boone and I go east." They nodded, the machine booped, and they departed to their assigned stations.
Veronica
The sun beat down on the land, but a breeze swept across the earth, cooling her in the robes. They were an old set that had seen many travels and places. To her they are a second skin, a part of her that moved with the body as she acted, in offense or concealment. The familiar weight on her shoulder, the Power Arm as she called it, acted with her will. Together, robe and arm, were as much a part of her body as the heart in her chest.
Her heart beat with a mixture of new happiness and an old sadness. She was glad to have met the two men, especially now. Alex had come off as friendly, made her feel welcome almost at once. The man seemed to have a talent for such social interaction. Craig Boone was… well reserved was a word, at first seeming cold almost to the point of not caring. Her opinion had changed since then.
The sniper was reserved but also honorable, as had been the courier/mercenary. Howcouldapersonbebothatthesametime? She thought when he said that, as Haggerty bore down on her, seemingly angry but desperate as well. Veronica had inferred the latter by the stride, the expression on her face and a contained worry in her eyes. So she had not resisted as the Lieutenant dragged her into an unknown situation.
The dark sunglasses cast the world into a gray-black color, rendering the colors around her dim. They helped against the bright sunlight cast by the misaligned solar arrays, but she still preferred to see uninhibited. The look just did not suit her at all, and they felt… off, uncomfortable to a degree.
With a small shrug, Veronica ignored that thought and continued the three quarters of a mile to her destination. TheyHADtoputtheconsolethere,attheEasternedgeofthearray.Why? She thought with irritation.
Five minutes elapsed as she walked with the robot in tow. Veronica did not know what to make of the Enclave machine except that it had been under a lot of stress and wear. Just looking at the bullet hole in its side made her cringe and wonder how it could still be running. That damage should have rendered it scrap and no one save a Brotherhood Scribe could repair the tech.
She wanted to tinker with it, get inside and feel those circuits and play with the wires… but the way Alex treated the thing, as though it were an equal member of their little group, halted those thoughts before they could be voiced. The last thing she wanted to do was piss off her new companions, and she could not say as to what might set the tall leader off.
Veronica did believe Alex was the leader. The assured way in which he spoke and acted, the absolutism in his speech gave one the impression of long years of leadership. Whatever he was in a previous life, she was glad to have him as the leader. She wondered how the Brotherhood would fair with even half of the conviction the Courier seemed to possess.
A metal fence appeared. Another minute and Veronica stood before, what she believed to be, an enclosure for the computer console. Judging by the distance she had walked had been approximately the stated length, the console HAD to be in here. Circling the enclosure, she came before the gate, and groaned…
… a padlock. Of all the Old World's stupid tech to survive, a padlock would be one of them, and it locked the gate. Barbed wire strung the fence frame, and she could not climb the metal barricade. With a sigh, she stepped forward, releasing her arm as she did so. Gripping the lock, her intent was to either rip or crush it. Veronica did neither.
The machine, 'ED–E' Alex called it, uttered a series of whoops and beeps, gliding forward. Veronica stepped back as a three–pronged claw extended from one port. It gripped the lock, while another port extended a multi–tool component. The machine cycled through the tool, coming to end with a sliver of metal which inserted into the lock, withdrew with a perfect row of teeth, reentered, and the lock released with an easy turn of the key.
ED–E's arms refolded into its spherical body, and the machine bobbed up and down, while uttering a sound which made her think it was… happy? Could a machine be happy? A Mister Handy could simulate politeness and manners, but it did not have true cognition of those emotions. This machine… actually seemed happy.
Veronica shook her head, too big of an idea to think about when she had a task at hand. And what an opportunity as well, to reactivate this plant… maybe find some answers. Why?
Removing the padlock, the gate swung open, and Veronica stepped inside with the machine following. The console sat on the floor of an open air shack. Kneeling, she dusted off the floor to clear a space. Once moderately clean, she lay prone before the monitor. The NCR couldn't get a table and a chair, instead they just dropped the thing here?
Tapping at the keys with a practiced rhythm, she almost felt at home. Back in the bunker, her room was set up her way. Hardin gave her crap about regulations one time, but she got her way in the end. Her desk was lowered to the end of her bed, her own console shoved to the edge. She spent many nights lying prone, typing, reading or watching some old movies. More than once she had fallen asleep with the old console on and nearly missed some of Taggert's lectures.
Veronica sighed, good memories stained with recent disagreements. A screen finally opened on the console, the one she'd hoped for. This system was almost stupid, simple to work around, a joke really. Elijah had her do far more complicated work and always kept challenging her to do better. For this and a few other things, she missed the old man.
"Veronica, can you hear me?" The voice came from behind her. She turned onto her side, but the voice came from ED–E.
"I'll consider your reaction a yes," spoke Alex's voice from the machine's speaker–face. "Boone and I are at the Western console. I'm in the system now. I think the consoles need to be synchronized simultaneously. Nod if you agree or disagree; I can see you on ED–E's camera."
ED – E has a camera? Alex can speak through the machine?! Now her curiosity was piqued. Veronica nodded in agreement. Instructions on the screen indicated that a simultaneous reconnect was necessary for the system to work, both needing to "talk" to the server in order to gain access to the tower.
"When you are ready give a thumbs–up. On my signal activate the connection. We'll meet you at the tower base when you are finished."
Nodding once more, Veronica turned back to the console. More tapping of keys, screens opening, closing, jumping between open windows; finally a screen with a single command appeared, "Establish server connection." She gave her signal, and Alex began to count down.
At "1," Veronica tapped her key, and the screen turned black. Rising onto her hands and knees, she gained her feet, rolling her neck and shoulders around to stretch the muscle from that awkward position. Exiting the enclosure she bee-lined for the central tower, its head covered in solar panels. She felt a growing excitement at the thought of entering this lost facility, the last place the Brotherhood had been when Elijah had disappeared.
She could not say if her pace was near a jog or the fastest walking she had ever done. She arrived just ahead of the two men at the foot of the tower. Excitement tinged with anxiety now as she remembered the defenses Rivas spoke of: turrets and robots. Veronica hated both of those types. She could run fast enough to move around a foe and hit them from behind, but a machine's auto-targeting made running suicidal.
Guns were not much better as the fire power of the defenses would pin down any force trying to enter.
Thoughts of just how this little side venture, a request by her nonetheless, was proving more and more foolish and dangerous plagued and built in her mind. 'I wanted answers, and all I might get is more death.' She wanted to say it was a stupid idea for the four of them. They should just leave. Raising her head to voice this opinion, Veronica noticed Alex tapping at the PIP–Boy.
The PIP–Boy was such a fascinating little machine, unique despite the uniform design across each model. Veronica had studied the machines years ago, and one thing she remembered was that each series was different.
She remembered four series existed during the height of RobCo: A, B, C and D. The first two were civilian government tools, handy information devices, personal secretaries on the wrist. The C was used for military commanders in field operations, coordinating with GPS and reconnaissance information to swiftly strike enemy units.
But the D series… was a whole remodel on the capabilities of the device. It was given only to special operatives on high risk missions, small unit infiltration, assassination, espionage. It was a tool for the old spies that waged a secret war of information, the cloak and dagger of the Old World. What made the machine unique from its predecessors was it could adapt and be adapted for almost anything…
"Five floors, defenses on every one of them. Energy signatures show Sentries, Gutsies and mounted machine gun turrets…" Alex said, pulling Veronica from her thoughts. Turning and leaning against the door into the tower, the tall man looked at her and Boone. He shrugged. "Ideas?"
Boone spoke, "All robots have devices on their backs; Combat Inhibitors they're called. One shot to destroy it, and the machine turns on its allies."
Alex leaned against the sealed tower door, nodding at the idea. "Just need a clear enough shot, difficult though." He thought for a moment and then reached into a pocket pulling a twenty–five millimeter grenade with a blue explosive head. "What about these?"
Veronica gasped. "EMP grenades!" Alex nodded in response, and she took the explosive in hand, considering: combat inhibitors, pulse grenades… Power Arm.
"I have an idea," Veronica said, a great smile upon her face, thoughts of the suicidal nature of this venture now gone, replaced with confidence.
Alex
The door of the tower withdrew into the recesses of the frame, opening into a darkened hallway.
Alex, service rifle set into his shoulder, took point, leading the group into the structure. ED–E followed close, sensors sweeping ahead for hostiles. The PIP–Boy he had turned to his face, sacrificing holding the rifle steady. The screen showed energy signatures and positions of hostile robot units.
Veronica walked directly behind him, using his body as a shield for her to move against engaging units, whilst Alex gave the machines a target.
Boone held rear-guard, rifle barrel forward, ears open for any sound that was not from either human or their floating music lover.
Arriving at a sealed door, Boone stood to the right. Veronica was on the left as Alex turned the gear to open the door. Locks released, and the door slid into its recess with a short squeak of metal on metal.
Beyond was a small room, square, barren except for metal boxes around. Good for cover. And here were the first machines. Alex raised his rifle and shot one Protectron through its "head," the loaded armor-piercing round tearing the metal and circuits asunder, "killing" the machine.
Moving, giving time for his three companions to take cover, he fired on a Gutsy. Three rounds pierced its armor. A laser from ED–E burned the wiring to one optic sensor, and one shot from Boone disabled the propulsion systems, crippling the machine which crashed hard onto the floor. No further hostiles. Movement detected beyond the next door. Alex signaled with his hands.
Veronica took the left, Boone the right, ED–E floated behind Alex, covering fire as he turned the gear. The door opened, and he moved. This room also held machines, five of them. He was ready to fire when three blue lights swept upon the floor, moving to his chest.
"MERDA," Alex yelled as he jumped away, barely missing the rounds fired by the ceiling turret. Heavy rounds tore the floor, following its marked target. The gun spat rounds; muzzle fire cast shadows on the walls. He was pinned.
Through the door he'd come in, Alex saw Boone. The courier gestured, "assist?" and the sniper gave a reply of "remain."
The turret continued to issue fire for thirty seconds. When it suddenly ceased, Alex moved. The opportunity was needed else they remained in this stalemate. Dropping the service rifle, he took the new grenade rifle from his back, turned and fired into the center of the room, an empty open space with railing around the pit, aiming blindly for the turret and praying.
Plasma fire issued from the Gutsy units in the room before the grenade detonated. Electrical arcs burst from the device, catching the robots and turret in its effective range. Turning back for a look, four machines were down, the turret was dead and one Gutsy remained. Before firing a shot, Alex saw a blur move.
Veronica sprinted for the railing, at which comprised the center of this room, jumped onto the metal and vaulted the gap. Alex watched, transfixed, her robe billowed in the slipstream, her legs pulled to her body, right arm, encased in steel, pulled back for a devastating hit.
She thrust her arm out, fist, wrist, forearm muscles, triceps and biceps, and shoulder all synchronous toward the most destructive punch she could muster against the Gutsy.
The steel-clad fist impacted with tremendous force. The hull buckled, cracked and crushed beneath the impact. Veronica's momentum brought the machine onto the floor, and her fist continued on through the head, compressing until the machine was half the size before.
Alex stood, service rifle in hand, but staring dumbstruck at the scene. Veronica stood, brushed her robes down, and turned to him with a smile.
"That was… skillfully done," Alex said lamely.
Veronica's smile grew, and she feigned a curtsy. Boone joined them, observing the damage of the robot. He nodded with approval.
Alex examined once more the PIP–Boy screen, showing the next few floors, all the same: robots and turrets. He sighed, took a swig from his canteen, passed it around and set it back onto his belt. He rubbed his nose, "Merda, this is going to be a long day," he said.
"What's 'merda?" asked Veronica.
Alex smirked. "Shit," he replied.
From above them, they could hear the activity of machines designed to kill and defend.
"Merda," murmured Veronica and Boone.
"Crack," was the report that sounded from the muzzle of Boone's rifle. Another five robots lay decimated on the floor. The bullet holes, laser burns and fist-shaped dents were a testament to the skill of the small group that had intruded so far into the tower. Alex turned the wheel on one final door, and the way opened.
Veronica gasped. It was a tech haven, computers and consoles, wires, piping and barren utilitarian walls all around.
Boone kept eyes and ears open for more threats, but ED–E seemed at ease, and no blips appeared on Alex's PIP–Boy. The room was clear. That was all that mattered for the moment.
Alex also looked about the room and thought it crowded, cluttered and seemingly in pieces, but Veronica seemed to know what was important. The scribe stood at a computer terminal, examining the dark object. Why the machine was not active was easy to see. Old cables and wires lay on the ground, chewed and exposed to the atmosphere.
Veronica looked at the old metal and chewed plastic sheathing. With a sigh, she said, "That will be difficult to fix."
Alex set the service rifle into its sheath and mounted stairs to what looked to be a control room. These machines were dark as well, but from the insignia of the old United States Air Force and some of the names for the stations, he guessed this was the primary control station.
Footsteps on the metal stairs heralded Veronica, looking at each of the various consoles with a sad look upon her face. Coming near Alex, she sat down heavily in a chair, head bowed, seeming defeated. Stepping near, he sat down next to her, removing his hat and setting it down. They remained quiet.
"I thought I would find some answers, a clue or an idea. Why?" she said.
Alex had no response but listened to her.
"This was the last stand of the Brotherhood against the NCR in the Mojave. The last place we were before isolating ourselves. The last place anyone saw Elijah," she said, a small catch in her voice as she mentioned the name.
A sniffle followed by a small smirk, which eventually grew to a smile of a memory, though her disappointment still showed through.
"Elijah was always hard to find, even harder to talk to. He hated talking to people directly. Thought it was inefficient. He communicated through notes while off doing research or experiments. Never let anyone close. I don't think he could even trust people. He believed in technology, the right answers for the future could be solved with the right piece of tech, the right data…"
As Veronica spoke, she drew her legs into her chest, holding them with a loose grip. She just needed a moment, a little melancholy before burying the emotions again. She sighed heavily, uncurled her legs and stood. Alex stood with her, hat in hand. She smiled at him. "Thanks for… just listening."
Alex bowed his head. "Of course, I will always here," he said.
Veronica smiled wider, but their attention was pulled when flashes of arcing electricity appeared from the console below. When these stopped, Boone called out, "The robot fixed the computer."
Veronica sat in one chair as the stations came to life and began to tap at keys, accessing old files, engrossed in the pursuit of knowledge.
Alex descended the stairs and crossed to the computer terminal Veronica had initially inspected. Boone passed him, deciding to inspect the activity above, while ED–E merrily floated, seemingly bored and playing the radio once more, a crooner singing about some lucky guy and his lady.
Alex pulled the keyboard down from the console and inserted the PIP–Boy cord to break the code lock. A few moments later and the screen revealed some options. There was a sound from the console, and a response from the wrist device set in a series of motions he did not quite understand.
The PIP–Boy screen scrawled with text, two words, "Beginning Download," followed by a status bar, which filled in roughly thirty seconds. When complete, both screens went black. As Alex removed the hacking cord, not fully comprehending what had just occurred, Veronica appeared.
"Computer troubles?" The scribe asked with a smirk, but Alex did not respond. Veronica shooed the large man away and set her fingers to the keys, tapping with ease of experience. The screen appeared again, and the same options as before. Scrolling down, she selected "Archimedes." A blank file was revealed.
Veronica sighed, "All of the sensitive data must have been wiped when the bombs fell. But this place could still be of use to the right people." She turned to Alex. "Who should we send the power to?"
Helios One, Tower Platform
1300 hrs
'The view is incredible,' Veronica thought. She leaned against the railing of the solar tower, gazing at the distant buildings of New Vegas. Wind blew fiercely up there, and she kept a hand on her hood, lest it fly away. Alex was having similar troubles with his hat, and ED–E was having trouble staying in one place.
According to the mainframe console, the sun had to be at a certain position at a certain time in order for optimal solar collection to occur. That time was nearly over, and Veronica was eager to see the final outcome.
Alex checked the clock of his computer, still enough light and time to make their efforts worth the trouble.
A simple console stood at the edge of the platform. As Alex approached, Veronica interspersed herself. "Can I pull the switch?" She asked with a big, eager grin on her face. "I love pulling switches. And pushing buttons, those are fun too."
With a quirk of his eyebrow and a gesture of acquiescence, Veronica stood before the console to activate the systems of the power plant. Raising her right arm to the horizon and left on the switch, the scribe intoned with a melodramatic powerful voice, "Let there be light," and pulled the lever down.
Below, in the solar field, sounds of old mechanisms and hydraulics met their ears, despite the wind. A beam of focused light danced on the towers exterior, directly toward the three occupants of the platform. Turning away, closing eyelids tight, the beam still left an after image of white on their retinas. Upon fading, the field of solar panels, hundreds of them, was turned toward the collector grid of the tower.
Veronica leaned against the console and looked down to the field below, a smile on her face that she turned on Alex. "Thank you" she said.
Alex turned the scribe. "For what?" he asked, having an idea of what she meant but curious to her thoughts.
"For going out of your way, for giving me those flowers, for what you said before we were dragged in here. And for staying with me, despite having to go through all of this trouble. Haggerty, Fantastic, and the fighting... Thank you." Veronica turned back to the solar field, the smile remaining.
Mojave Wasteland, two hours north of 188 Trading Post
1830 hrs
The pack slipped from her shoulders and Veronica dropped to a conveniently positioned rock she now considered a chair. Her legs, hips to ankles, burned with exertion. Sweat soaked her shirt despite the cooling air of the desert.
Boone was unpacking his kit for the night but was equally as winded as Veronica.
Alex had pressed the group hard, setting a pace to make up for the time spent at Helios One, to at least make the 188, or better pass it and move further north.
The group now rested in the foothills of a small mountain west of a location Alex happily identified as Hidden Falls Park, whatever that used to be. The man was very enthusiastic now about reading but currently off gathering material for fire.
Stretching her neck, a few vertebrae popped and she sighed at the relieved tension. Sliding from the rock, Veronica began to unpack her own kit before the sun sank below the mountains.
"Hey, Boone, can I ask something" she said.
The sniper grunted, not looking away from his task.
Veronica licked her lips. "Alex is… an odd character. I mean he can fight effectively with so many weapons and is smart on strategy, but he also speaks that language. I never heard of someone with… such a diverse skill set before. What do you think?"
Boone did not cease setting up the bedroll "he is a good soldier" he said.
Veronica quirked an eyebrow, it couldn't be that simple "you're not curious about… all of that?" she asked, meaning the enigma of Alex Hugh.
Boone shrugged "I did my tours in the NCR and I have those experiences. I once saw a Ranger kill three Legionnaires with only two hands. I saw a Centurion cut a man in half with an enormous sword. I don't know what Hugh's past is and I'm not going to ask". The bedroll was made.
Veronica nodded and finished her own kit.
Alex returned with wood of various kinds and kindling of… something round and brown. Stacking the wood in a chimney shape he placed the 'fuel' in the center and set the mass alight. The flame caught and wood added, raising the temperature, until ten minutes passed and coals glowed red.
Rations were taken from the canvas sack, cooked and eaten while the remainder dried. All three were exhausted and conversation was small. ED–E played some slow music on the radio but Alex said to turn it off after dinner, lest someone her and come upon the group in the night.
Boone turned in after the meal and snores could be heard from the bedroll five minutes after.
Alex sat, watching the fire. The white and yellow hunger consuming more wood with every new piece thrown on, it held a hypnotizing nature that lulled a person into weariness.
A shadow passed at his side and he looked to see Veronica standing over him, book in hand. Gesturing at the novel she asked "do you want to read?"
Despite fatigue she still offered to read with him. Standing, taking the book, Alex turned the few pages that had been read the previous night. He still remembered parts of it and, though having gained more understanding some words remained difficult.
Looking at Veronica, hood off and ready to fall asleep on her feet, he smiled at her. "Let me try reading tonight and you sleep". She looked, somewhat, disappointed but a yawn caused her to nod and make for the bedroll.
Tonight was blustery, wind whispered over the small mountain to the west. The bedrolls were gathered around the fire for the warmth. Alex lay near Veronica, her head exposed just two feet from where he lay beneath the blanket. Book open to the first page he began to read, slowly but steadily.
Veronica heard the words, the voice that carried them despite the wind. It was a good voice to hear a story read. Exhaustion and the sound of Alex speaking each word read soon set her dreams to another time and place; in a small town in southern Alabama with a rambunctious tomboy and her brother. It was a good dream that night.
Hello again Constant Readers and a Happiest New Year to all of you in the coming 2013.
These past few months have been a long time coming. To make a long story short, college is a privilege and a pain, figuratively and literally.
But here is the next chapter, perhaps not what you may have hoped for but important for Alex and Veronica, something to begin their interactions and a taste of what is to come.
A special thank you to a friend who insures my punctuation is top-notch and keeps me in line with character personality. Gratias ago, amice.
Until we meet again, Vale,
Tutor Veritatis