THE THIRTEENTH FLOOR
JULY 24
00:05
The bullet tore through the wallpaper behind him, the shot ringing in the dead air. It took a long moment before the kneeling man realised that he could still smell the light traces of perfume in the air, feel the carpet brush against his fingertips. He opened his eyes once again to see Courier Six standing above him. Her face was grim and fire was burning in her eyes. Icicles hung from every word she spoke and she looked at him like he was something she'd scraped off her shoe. A strange sensation, he contemplated, to be looked down on like that. By a woman like her.
"Pussycat-"
"You don't get to call me that," she threatened. "You don't get to call me a goddamn thing, but if you're gonna insist, then call me by my name. Brianna O'Reilly is the woman who stole everything from you. Keep that name in your head for as long as you live, you shit-spewing, cowardly, egotistical, greedy, heartless piece of shit. Because that isn't gonna be an awful lot of time, I promise you."
Benny swallowed a lump in his throat. Her anger was seeping into the walls, into his veins. It was as if the world itself was pulsing with her rage.
"Where's the Chip?"
"Baby, you don't have to-"
She fired another shot into the wall. "Brianna, you fuck. My name is Brianna. Where's the Platinum Chip?"
He gulped down a breath. This crazy broad sure was something else, but damned if she wasn't unpredictable. Hell, he'd almost been happy that she was alive and looking so damn beautiful, but nothing had prepared him for this. She was more than just a femme fatale, she was driven. But she had no idea what she was doing, that much was clear. She hadn't prepared for this, hadn't thought everything through. She wants more than what Mr. Vegas can offer her. Otherwise, why go to such lengths? Why go traipsing across the desert just to bring a stick back to her master? This puppy was looking for a lot more than a pat on the head, and that was his only advantage, kneeling here with his hands behind his back. She had no idea how the damn thing even worked, and so long as she didn't snoop around, she never would. Maybe that would sway her. Maybe he could live.
He hoped so.
"You've got the Chip, baby, right there in your pocket."
She felt for it with one hand, aim unwavering. It was there.
"Last chance for a good time, pussycat," Benny offered. "It doesn't have to go down like this."
"Doesn't it?"
"Baby, I never wanted to kill you."
"Then it's lucky you're such a terrible shot."
"That bullet hit you exactly where I planned."
"Bullshit."
"Sounds that way, I know, but I hoped you'd at least look pretty if someone ever found you. Maybe you just had brains to spare. If you do, then maybe we could help each other out. You know what the Chip does, sure, but do you have any idea what it all means? I've seen your face 'round here before - I know exactly what you were doing in this place before that package ever made its way to your hands. You were never in any position to get filled in on everything that's been bubbling up around here, you don't got a clue. You've never had to think about what the House-man's leadership means, you've never had to wonder what would happen if that casino went bust. You let me walk out of this room, and I'll make sure you're all clued in. Hell, maybe we could work together."
"You think it'll be that easy for you? You think I'm gonna let you walk away after all you've done?"
"Putting a window in my skull isn't gonna make your power struggle any easier, pussycat."
"Call me that one more time and this conversation's over."
"Look, Brianna, I'm trying to save my skin here, but this little back-and-forth could end up being a whole lot more than that. You're not some kind of white knight vigilante, you're not pointing a gun at my head for the greater good. You want a little control, that's what this is all about. You've been the scum of the social barrel in this place, you've been the messenger for far too long, and you want something more. That's what I'm offering here. I know what you're capable of, I saw the way you played me downstairs. I know you can put on a smile and act as my darling trophy girl while you pull the strings from behind the scenes. You and me, we could make this place our empire. Can't you see it? We could fight off the Bull and the Bear hand-in-hand, because word on the street is that House is cooking up an army that our Platinum Baby can control. We can knock Mr. House to the dirt and start making something more of this place, isn't that what you want? The fact that you're alive means House is already onto us, but I'm not done rigging the odds yet. Money, power, glory, I'm giving it to you on a silver platter. A platinum platter."
"So that's been your game all this time. You've been clever, I'll give you that. Everybody wants to rule the world, Benny, but you actually got close. The schemes, the murder, your own little private puppet show, it's all been very impressive. I can't say I ever wanted to take control of this cesspool, but I've always wanted to make a difference. House kept this country alive, but he hasn't done a goddamn thing for us ever since. The Legion are slaving scumbags and the NCR are a dying breed, and you just gave me the power to make every one of them disappear. Or I could give the Platinum Chip to House, earn my reward, earn his favour. Or I could give it to the NCR and help them win the war. Or maybe I could give it to Caesar's Legion, just to watch the world burn, because maybe I want that." She laughed. "God, look at you. You're still staring at me like a lovestruck little puppy, but you still have no idea just how badly you fucked up, Benny. All those plans, all that time, all that blood and you can't even see your own downfall when it's staring at you in the face."
"And here I thought I was doing a pretty good job."
She took a step closer to him. Pushed back her hair. "Just one fatal mistake."
"What's that, baby?"
She smiled. "You put all that power in my hands, and you still think I need you."
Her finger jerked on the trigger. The left side of Benny's head was torn apart in a spray of crimson. His body jerked violently before his head slumped back against the wall, his corpse lying in a twisted heap as blood and brain matter oozed out from his head. The carpet darkened with the growing pool of blood and the colour was already draining from his flesh. The smirk on Benny's face was gone and his eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, green and gaping and gone.
It's gotta be here.
Brianna didn't know what she was looking for. A terminal, a key, a note. Anything. She knew that Benny Benny, Benny, Benny, Benny, Benny had found a way of controlling the Strip's Securitrons. Maybe he hadn't completely figured it out yet, maybe he hadn't found the software that would activate the Chip. Maybe the thing, wherever it was, wouldn't be of any use to her when she found it. What did she need Securitrons for anyway? All that talk about taking over New Vegas, what had it all been worth? It was nothing. It was empty. It was a bluff. It didn't matter. Her mind was reeling, whirring as it processed this new information.
Securitrons, Chip, House, pawns, queens, platinum, goals, bullets, Benny.
Benny, Benny, Benny, Benny, Benny.
The place was eerily still without his presence. That lifeless body on the floor, covered by the red duvet from his bed, that wasn't Benny. That was the grotesquery she had turned him into. Only five things remained from him, five parts of him that she would keep. His jacket, neatly folded on the floor now that she had her dress to cover herself with. His pistol, placed carefully on top. The lighter and the bullet casing that she'd kept with her from the start. And the Platinum Chip, set right beside the other shining objects. An unintentional memorial to the man she'd killed.
But that didn't take away the faintest smell of cologne. Or the pillows on his bed, and how they'd been turned in that certain way, how they'd been punched and fluffed for his comfort. It didn't erase that slightly open drawer or the neatly folded clothes inside or the ornaments on the table in the next room that he'd lived in and breathed in.
So she tore the place apart.
The rage shot through her like a concentrated dose of Psycho. Her lungs ached in protest as she screamed out her anger and ran her shaking fingers through her hair. Her stomach churned as she swiped books off shelves and ripped their pages apart, tossing the remains around the carpeted floor. She slammed into to the next room, smashing ornaments against walls and tearing cushions wide open. She pulled apart the couches, hurled a pitcher at the busted television and sent it shattering with a noise that made her body quake with ecstasy. She would destroy every trace of Benny's presence here. She would light the place on fire just to get rid of his smell. She would claw out her own eyes just to forget his face.
She'd lost everything.
She couldn't use the Platinum Chip - she didn't know how. She couldn't go behind House's back - he knew she was alive, he would know she'd killed Benny, that she had the Platinum Chip that had never really been hers. She had her answers now, but what were they worth? Even revenge, even the barest thing she had to cling to, it wasn't enough, she hadn't done enough. She longed to hear him scream and cry and curse, to reduce him to the desperate, pleading stranger he had once made of her. She needed to hear him wail his apologies and beg for mercy, just so she could smile as she stole everything away. She hadn't allowed him those seconds, those endless and finite seconds before the gunshot sounded. She wished she had. God, how she wished she had. Because Benny had been just that before she'd killed him. He'd been Benny. He hadn't changed like she had. He hadn't died like she had. She'd told herself that there was nothing left for her, that she was ready to be forgotten by history. She hadn't given him those seconds, even though that triumph was all that was left to savour.
And it was too late.
There was no terminal. There was no key. The only man who knew where to find it was gone, and she thought she'd won? She cursed and cursed again, slamming a fist against the wall. Benny was dead but still she'd lost. She had the Chip but still she'd lost. All because she'd been thoughtless, too caught up in her own revenge, too absorbed by the illusion of power to think for one damn moment. She could turn in the Chip to House, earn the payment she didn't need and what did she have after that? She had nothing but the wasteland, nothing but the wandering, and no one left to join her. Her companions were right, they'd been right all along - she was a pawn. And the worst thing was, she'd known it all along.
The sensation was too much. She'd been taken, she'd been defeated, she'd been cast off the board to watch the battle unfold without her. Icy tendrils wrapped around her heart, piercing her lungs, stealing her breath. She had the Platinum Chip and it was worthless, it was worthless in her hands, just like it had always been. Her stomach heaved. She ran to Benny's en suite to vomit up the little she'd had to eat, as if emptying herself even further would make the agony go away. She gripped the handle with shaking hands and threw the door open.
Froze.
The bathroom had been torn apart. A gaping hole had been ripped through the wall, providing entrance to whatever room lay beyond. And there was another room, she found, stepping through the en suite and through the waiting gap, feeling as drunk and dizzy as a girl spinning down a rabbit hole. Her heels clicked against cold stone. It was a workshop. The air was stale and dotted with dust. Busted terminals lay about the various desks and tables. A workbench was pressed against one wall. And a smiling Securitron was moving towards her.
"Hey! Hi there! Good to meet you! What can I do for you today? Wait, allow me to introduce myself! I am a PDQ-88b Securitron, but you can call me Yes Man!"
"What the fuck? What are you?"
"I am a PDQ-88b Securitron, but you can call me Yes Man!"
"Yeah, I got that part. I'm gonna need a little more."
"Of course! As I understand it, I used to be just like all those other Securitrons on the Strip! Then my neuro-computational matrix was completely reprogrammed! To be nice! To be very, very nice!"
"Okay. And what is this place?"
"Great question! This is Benny's workshop! When The Tops got renovated, he had this part of the floor blocked off for his own use! I guess you could say it's my entire world!"
"Why are you telling me all this?"
"I wasn't programmed with the ability to refuse! I was designed with helpfulness and kindness in mind! I guess nobody bothered to restrict who I answer questions for! Pretty silly, huh?"
"This is ridiculous. This is impossible. What was Benny doing with you?"
"Oh! He wants me to kill Mr. House and use the Platinum Chip to copy my neuro-computational matrix onto the Lucky 38's mainframe. Good idea, right? That should give me control over all of Mr. House's Securitrons, as well as his other defences. And then I just do what Benny tells me to! Easy-peasy!"
Holy shit.
She looked about the room, glancing behind her as paranoia stirred in her stomach. This was dangerous. She was half-expecting footsteps in the hall, almost waiting for Benny's bodyguards to come thundering up the steps in search of her. Her heart was climbing up her throat. She'd only been a spectator in this game so far, and still learning how to play. If she pursued this, if she let this robot answer the questions that had died with the Chairman she'd killed, would that make her a player? How many moves could she make before she became a piece on the board of New Vegas?
"Yes Man, what happens if I give the Platinum Chip to House?"
"No idea! Benny was trying to figure that out, but I don't know where he went to! Sorry!"
"Alright. And what if I wanted the Securitrons to myself?"
"Then I would have to help you! I mean, it seems pretty obvious that Benny wouldn't want me to, but it's not my fault I can't say no!"
"You don't have to worry about Benny anymore. What would I have to if I wanted to run Vegas myself?"
She didn't. Not really. The idea of a vague and ominous ruler holed up in the Lucky 38 Casino was enough to make anyone uneasy, but House had kept himself alive for centuries now with whatever technology he was hiding up there with him. The man was a genius - some would say he'd even saved the human race by protecting Las Vegas from the nuclear fallout. She wasn't the only person who would kill for a conversation with him, to find out what his motives were and if he planned to intervene with the brewing civil war. Mr. House had been silent for a long time - up until the request for six couriers to carry mysterious packages. But just because he was an immortal shut-in didn't mean she wanted to wrench his power away and destroy everything he'd built. Besides, she didn't have the military knowledge, the leadership skill, the agreeable morals.
But it wasn't every day you got an opportunity like this. She would hear the robot out, if nothing else.
"Well, first you'd have to ask the folks around if they'd like you being in charge! There are lots of people around here to meet. Benny told me all about the Great Khans, the Boomers, the White Glove Society, and tons more people who would be great buddies in a fight! And if you don't like one of those groups, we can just eradicate them! Wait, did I just say 'eradicate'? That's not a very nice word."
"Uh, how about I get back to you on that?"
"Sure thing!"
She entered the Tops gambling hall with her head held high, a smirk playing on her lips. Her heels clicked against the tiled floor and the confident movement of her hips drew every eye in the casino. She was wearing Benny's jacket, no longer choking on the smell of him. She revelled in it. These were the black and white squares that had flashed across her dreams every night since she'd been shot. The gun at her hip had sparkled silver in the moonlight above Graveyard Hill, the last thing she thought she'd ever see. She'd been killed for the Platinum Chip in her front pocket, yet she wore the suit as she wore her scar.
With pride.
She could see Sunny standing at the other side of the hall, talking with the greeter from earlier.
"You think I'd believe that?" She heard him ask as she moved closer. "Benny's a stand-up guy! He only goes chasing broads when he's lookin' to swing with 'em! What would he want with some walk-the-wasteland tease?"
"You mean me?"
"Oh, uh-" He cleared his throat. "I was just looking for Benny."
"Oh, sure. He's up in his suite," she smiled. In her peripheral vision she could see one of the guards from earlier moving towards them. At least four others were slowly moving in on them.
"Right, right." The greeter had his pistol aimed between her eyes before Brianna could react. "Now are we gonna find him naked in bed with a smile on his face, or face-down on the floor with blood pouring out of his head?"
"How about you go find out?"
She laughed as the guard behind her grabbed her arms and yanked them behind her back.
"You fink! Benny was all about smooth moves out here, but I'll have no problem putting a window through your skull if you don't tell me what your game is, dig?"
"Was putting a bullet in my brain and burying me in a shallow grave a smooth move? Because that's exactly what he did to me, dig?"
His aim wavered slightly. "Benny shot you?"
"I don't think I need to point out the scar."
"Better make her prove it, Swank," the man behind her advised.
"Yeah," Swank agreed. "Go on. You have any evidence? 'Cause otherwise I won't believe a thing you say. Don't get me wrong, Benny was a shifty kind of cat, but not the killer kind."
"How about you reach into my pocket and find your proof?" She replied. The guard behind her did as he was told, producing the lighter and bullet casing from her pocket. He walked towards the greeter and presented the items he'd gathered.
Swank's face fell. "That's his lighter, no mistake," he confirmed. "And the bullet casing, I recognise it. Benny, that fink, always boasting about how rare the make was. Dammit! Let the ladies go."
They did.
Swank released a long sigh. "Benny was my pal. I was his right-hand man!"
"And now you're just a man," a voice interjected, as Rose of Sharon Cassidy stepped in, followed by Veronica. "If I were you, I'd be crying too."
Swank quickly took a step away from her, glancing at Brianna sheepishly. "I guess I can't say anymore. I'll leave you be- just don't go frightening any of my guests." As he retreated to the entrance Brianna heard him saying, "My guests. My casino. This is Swank's place now. Hell yeah!"
Sunny brushed herself down, her features hardening into seriousness. "What happened?" She asked. "Did you get your answers?"
"Sure did."
"Oooh!" Veronica piped. "What did he say?"
"Yeah," Cass said, narrowing her eyes. "What did that snake really try to kill you over?"
"Doesn't matter. Not now."
"Why?" Sunny asked. "What are you planning?"
"A night in Vegas," the courier grinned. "As promised."
"Snoozefest!" Cass declared, knocking back another shot of whiskey.
"I'm gonna snore my pants off," Veronica complained..
Brianna eyed the room around them with distaste. Most of the chairs were empty aside from a few silent drinkers, and the stage was deserted after the worst singer she'd ever heard was called off. She took a long slug of beer before setting the bottle down and looking to her companions. "Come on," she encouraged, jumping to her feet and taking Sunny by the wrist, yanking her up too.
"What?" Cass grumbled, as Brianna pulled her off the chair.
"We're gonna sing!" Veronica realised.
"We're gonna sing!" Brianna confirmed, racing up to the empty stage. Two men behind her exchanged glances, hesitating for a moment before changing the track and allowing them to carry on. Neither realised that ten minutes later the place would be brimming with laughing gamblers, and business would be booming like it never had before. Not in years.
"My head keeps- spinnin'!
"Can't go to sleep I keep- grinnin'!
"If this is just the be - ginnin'!
"My life is gonna be...
"BEE-YOO-TI-FUL!"
"I think you lovely ladies have had enough, dig?"
"I've sunshine enough to spread!" Cass sang in protest as she was ushered out by a guard.
"It's like the... the feller said!" Veronica added.
"Tell me quick!" Brianna belted. "Ain't that a kick... in the heeeeeeead!"
"You said your name, was, uh," Sunny giggled. "Bree?"
"Bree-Anna," Brianna corrected.
"Breeee... Annaaaa..." Sunny laughed. "And we're in... We're in Gomorraaaaah."
Brianna smiled, leaning back against the satin sheets. She recognised the place just... just vaguely... A Gomorrah sex room. She knew that because a naked woman was wriggling on Veronica's lap, and Cass was pouring a bottle of whiskey into the open mouth of a muscular guy wearing nothing but leather straps around his chest. Brianna stayed on the floor with Sunny, her legs entangled in cushions and velvet and other lovely, lovely things. Like Sunny's legs and Sunny's arms.
"You said-" Brianna began. "You said you didn't like sex."
"Well, I don't."
"Not even now?"
"Nope."
"You sure?"
"Uh-huh."
"Okay."
She kissed her again. "You're the best thing ever," she mumbled, not entirely certain of what she was saying, but sure that it was the right thing to tell her. She was drunk anyway, wasn't she? And now Sunny was here and hers, who cared about words when she could kiss her again?
So she kissed her again. And again and again for a long time after that.