Wernher's Wing, Worker Palace, The Pitt
Wernher stared at the maps. All roads led to the Pitt, inevitably. Ashur had been right that the other regions were jealous of their power. He found himself wishing he was here, and loathing that he had pushed Wernher and the slaves to the point of rebellion. He was the man of vision, of comprehending the whole picture. Midea was too concerned about the Workers themselves, she thought that everything revolved around them, but that wasn't true. People who came to the Pitt to work served the greater function of the Pitt. The factories were all that mattered. Without them, the Workers would fall into banditry or tribalism and the whole cycle would start again.
The Brotherhood of Steel had helped keep the Pitt's mills working, but Ronto had supplied them with weapons and training. What had King Francis ever done for them, except piss off their biggest trading partners. That was his thinking. But what would it mean if the Pitt did take sides? Did that make them power players? Is that something they wanted? Is that something they could afford?
Wernher didn't know. He took a sip of whiskey, studying the map. He was master of the Pitt now, but that was his only ambition. Now that he had far greater heights to reach for, and he found his own ambition wanting. He could have his own kingdom, his own empire. But he didn't want that. He had the Pitt. That was enough. It had to be, right?
He stared at the map. What could they do? What if, one day, after he'd been neutral all this time, Ronto or the Brotherhood decided they were the next target, the next place to be conquered? What were the limits of that? Wernher acted tough, acted like he didn't care, like the Pitt was all that mattered, but these questions scared him. Not because of what they asked, but because of the answers.
Was he even the person to make these decisions? He had to be. There was nobody else to answer them.
"Wernher, there is someone who wishes to speak with you. They say they are from the Brotherhood of Steel," the Attendant declared. The Attendant had once been an Institute experiment, an attempt at true AI, who had escaped three years ago along with other survivors. Some of the survivors had come to the Pitt, and they offered the Attendant as a gift in exchange for protection. They were happy to fix up the machines and build more, so he took them in. The Brotherhood didn't need to know where they came from, so they all had new faces. The Attendant resembled a Mr. Handy, except it had a row of three arms where its eyes normally were, it had stumpy but generally humanoid legs, and a triangular 'head' with a pair of red 'eyes.' It took some getting used to.
"Send them in," he sighed. Some Scribe or another came in, but there was something off about them. For one, he couldn't tell if they were a man or a woman, though they were bald. They weren't wearing the kind of militaristic uniform that the Brotherhood wore. Instead they wore a sort of crimson robe over their jumpsuit with the emblem of their order.
"Thank you for meeting with me, Lord Wernher. I am-"
"Wernher."
"Pardon?"
"Not 'Lord' Wernher, it's just Wernher. I'm not one of those Knights in Bandit Armor from Empire."
"…Yes, of course, my apologies. I am Scribe Liliana, of the Brotherhood of Steel. I have come with gifts for the Pitt, and proposals to establish relations between our Order and your community."
"Y-What? You already have people here, we already have 'established relations.' You guys are always badgering me about what we're building for other people. More bribes won't change my answer: Commissions are private. I'm not going to change the one rule that's kept us out of the wars."
"Ah. I see. I was not aware contact was that intimate be-"
"How the hell do you not know that your own people are down the street?"
"Because I do not represent the local Brotherhood of Steel, Wernher. I'm not here from the Citadel."
Wernher rubbed his good eye, "Say that again?"
"I represent a different chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel. We have been…Secluded for quite some time. It is clear now, however, that our involvement is necessary, and we were hoping to open with good relations with the Pitt in particular. Especially with what is about to come."
"Wait, there's more than one of you guys?"
"Yes. The Brotherhood of Steel is established in one way or another throughout the continental United States, though we do not reach all corners. Our particular chapter has not had reason to get involved with the communities around us, until recent events."
"The whole freakin' country goin' downhill, fast," Wernher said.
"Precisely. For this reason, I have come with gifts. New molds and designs for the steel mills, more efficient than some of their competitors. Easily built, effective machines that even the simplest of tribes can comprehend. This, we present, as a gift to you."
"All right. So what's the catch?"
"Well, we have other arrangements we wish to make with you. The gift is yours, regardless. But we would like to purchase land to your west."
"Take it, anything that ain't the Pitt ain't mine."
"That's simply not true, though. The Pitt's influence extends far beyond the city limits, and to think otherwise is to invite invasion."
Wernher looked back at the map. That was true, at least in effect. He had never bothered to enforce their claim past what they needed, but they'd driven off raiders and slavers away from nearby regions before. Should they expand into those areas? How far?
"What are you offering?" Wernher inquired, his eyes fixed on the map.
"We have fuel generators. Far more efficient and less dangerous than the coal you've been using to power your mills."
"Fuel…? What do they take?"
"Gas."
"Gas? As in gasoline? Like, oil?"
"Yes."
"What would I need that for?"
"…For the gas we are hoping to export to you?"
"Who's got gas, much less enough to EXPORT?"
"We do. We've been brewing it for decades."
2 Days Later
"Sir? Midea is here," the Attendant announced. Wernher sat in his big, comfy chair. Midea and Wernher were technically co-leaders of the Pitt. Wernher wasn't sure how true that actually was; he ran the security and the factories and conducted diplomacy. Still, she ran the schools and the clinics and organized the people or something like that, so maybe she saw him the same way. Maybe they should talk more. That would probably clear up some of that confusion.
"See her in," he waved his hand, and Midea entered, though not alone. With her was Maria; his eyes lit up. He had hated kids earlier in his life, but Maria was a delight. Midea was raising her, but he was like an uncle to her. He taught her how to fight and shoot, how to lie and know when someone was lying in turn. All the important things that a girl needed to know in life. She was not the only woman there, however; there was someone new, with brown hair, a button nose and was absolutely the most gorgeous woman that Wernher had ever seen. She wore jeans over legs that had all the shapes, a strong but elegant body with every curve where it needed to be. He found himself standing, eyes transfixed upon her.
"Uh, hello, I'm, ahem, Wernher," he said to her, and he moved some of his gray hair out of his eyes.
"It is a pleasure to meet you, monsieur. I am Dr. Curie," she bowed.
"Oh, no need to do that, we're, uh, not big on formality around here," he assured her, grinning. Midea and Maria looked at each other.
"I see, I will keep this in mind, monsieur," Dr. Curie said, taking a seat.
"Can I uh, get you anything? Er, you ladies? Food? Drink? Wine?" he offered.
"Whiskey!" Marie dared. Midea tapped her on the shoulder, shaking her head.
"Ah, she's already had a taste for it," Wernher admitted, "Another bad habit you can chalk up to me."
"Underage drinking can cause an array of stunted development, ranging from poor bone structure to impaired mental faculties," Dr. Curie pointed out, "I do not recommend her ingesting alcoholic beverages of any kind."
"I have some Mutfruit squeeze," Wernher grumbled, "All right, what about you two?"
"Is something wrong with him?" Marie whispered to Midea.
"It's an affliction for most males. Unfortunately, there doesn't seem to be a cure," Midea said, and she motioned to Dr. Curie. Marie looked from Dr. Curie to Wernher, and stifled a giggle.
"I would love some Mutfruit squeeze as well," Dr. Curie told him, "Nutritious and delicious!"
"That's right! Why don't I just get four of 'em? Uh, Attendant?" he called.
"Yes, Sir?"
"Four Mutfruit Squeezes, please?"
"I am your personal assistant and a highly sophisticated analytical machine. I am not your butler."
"I said please?"
"Very well," the robot growled. Wernher turned back to his guests.
"So what can I do for you?"
"I wanted to introduce Dr. Curie to you, Wernher. She is a highly skilled and recommended doctor, who has come with a group of refugees from the north. They contain a lot of specialists, and Dr. Curie is their leader, of sorts," Midea said.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Doctor Curie. I'm sure you and yours will settle in real nice," he beamed.
"Oh thank you, you are most gracious, Monsieur Wernher," Curie replied. The Attendant arrived with their drinks. Marie leaned in to her mother again and remarked,
"Wow. He's got it bad."
"Doctor Curie is very interested in our work on the Troglodyte Degenerative Condition, and believes she can progress our research much faster than we've been able to with what labs we have," Midea informed Wernher.
"Oui, I have created a plan to replicate the disease using mole rat hosts, and applying an array of countermeasures and vaccinations on them, before applying human or troglodyte trials. It would be much faster, and far less painful for Marie," Dr. Curie explained.
"I thought we already had a vaccine?" Wernher said.
"Oui, but it is not entirely effective, and the disease has since spread outward from the Pitt. Your laboratories can synthesize enough for the workers in the city, but not enough for the farms and communities nearby. My methods would allow you to delvier the vaccinations and countermeasures much further, and possibly reverse some of the more drastic aspects of the contagion."
"You could…Reverse the Trogs?" he asked.
"Well, no. But make them less aggressive, and possibly able to function within society. Many people throughout history have lived engaging and fulfilling lives despite conditions that inhibit or challenge aspects of their lives others might consider normal. And those who are in their early stages may be able to return to their former selves with minimal damage."
"That sounds like a miracle."
"I have accomplished miracles before, monsieur."
"Yeah I bet you have," he agreed.
"It's like watching a melon hit the ground after being dropped from a building," Marie muttered.
"Stop being rude," Midea told her.
"It will be expensive…" Dr. Curie admitted.
"Uh, how expensive?"
"It, eh…I have brought much of my own equipment, but I need power, a laboratory, and more supplies. Say…Twenty thousand caps?"
"Twenty thousand?" he balked.
"And there's the splat!" Marie declared, and she took a drink of her Mutfruit before Midea could chastise her again. Wernher rubbed his head, stating,
"I gotta think of how I'm going to get twenty thousand, we've already got so much invested in improvements and expansion…"
"I know it is an exorbitant sum, and we do not need all of it right now, but for best results, that would be about the amount we would need for computers, equipment, specialists, and facilities," Curie explained.
"I'll…I can make it happen," Wernher assured it, "I can get it to you in chunks. For now, you can start by expanding the labs we already have, would that work?"
"That would be most exceptional, Monsieur."
"If you want to work out the details, perhaps we could meet…Over dinner?"
"He drops another melon…" Marie muttered.
"Marie!" Midea hissed.
"Oui, that sounds wonderful! Doctor Virgil has enumerated much of what we would require," Curie told him. Marie made a 'Squish' sound as she took another drink.
"Yeah," Wernher's voice broke, "Sure. Bring him along."
"I look forward to it, Monsieur Wernher. I will see you tonight."
"In the meantime, we've dedicated some room for her people near the University, with the other scientists and their families," Midea informed him.
"Hmm? Yeah, we got the room there, right? It's been cleared out?"
"It requires renovation."
"Well, we've got those guys from Broyhill up here don't we? They can get what they need from them. We'll get some workers up there, get it all fixed up. I'm sure there's plenty of people who would want the extra shift-hours without working in the mills."
"I look forward to making the Pitt our home," Dr. Curie said.
"We look forward to having you."
"If you would excuse me, Monsieur, I have much to discuss with the others," Dr. Curie told him.
"Of course. I look forward to having you for dinner. With…Doctor Virgil, of course."
She nodded, and took her leave. Midea rolled her eyes as Wernher continued to gawk at the door.
"Melon hitting the pavement," Marie announced. Wernher cocked an eyebrow at her.
"What?"
Worker Palace
"Doctor Curie?" a voice rang out as she left Wernher's office. She spun, and regarded a man wearing a Brotherhood of Steel robe. Her hand immediately latched to the weapon on her hip.
"Yes?"
"I am Scribe Liliana, of the Brotherhood of Steel. It is a pleasure to meet you," they offered their hand. She didn't take it.
"The Brotherhood has driven me and my friends from our homes, and murdered my closest friend. I have nothing to say to you," she snarled.
"I understand that Maxson and his men have been…Unaccommodating to the people of the Commonwealth, but he is not my Elder. I come from a different chapter, to the west. Your reputation as a scientist precedes you, even there. You are refugees as a direct result of the Brotherhood's actions. My chapter understands, more than most, the effects our actions can have on the communities we deal with. I was hoping to speak with you about your work," they told her.
"I have no reason to trust you," she declared.
"I understand. Few people do, these days. I look forward to gaining your trust, Doctor Curie. Have a good day," they bowed, and took their leave. Curie didn't take her hand off her gun all the way back to the camp. She knew the Brotherhood was here, and trusted that the Pitt's neutrality would protect them, but for them to approach her so openly, so soon? Perhaps it wouldn't be enough…