5 November 2277: Meet the President

I've woken up in a number of funny places. I've borrowed the bedrolls of late bandits in old forts and caves. Waking up to realise I was in Traven's old chambers at the Arcane University was disconcerting. Then there was waking up on the ground just south of Faregyl spooned up against S'jirra with a unicorn nosing at me, which when we think about it was funny in hindsight.

This place was less amusing and more unpleasant. For one, I was stood upright in some sort of metal and energy tube, and shackled to it to boot. Aside from a single locker, what was probably a door, and some sort of round thing in the wall beside it, the room I was in was quite empty.

Not helping my mood were little pains that suggested that someone, or several someones, had been poking at me and taking samples. I don't mind a healer running their magic over me for a diagnosis, but of course the Enclave didn't have any, so they used all manner of machinery. And needles. Ouch.

Now I had my suspicions about how I got here. After we got the slaves back to Big Town, and Douglas vanished into the depths of Ernie's inventory, the three children from Little Lamplight were getting very impatient to return to the relative safety of their caverns, as far away from all us mungos as they could.

So of course Ernie and I escorted the little brats back, didn't we? The Mayor was pretty chuffed, praising us faintly as "not bad for mungos", and actually let us in.

We had a nosey around, finding a pair of ancient holotapes left by a schoolteacher. The foundation of Little Lamplight was a school trip with bad timing. Eighty kids and a handful of adults to look after them. And when anyone tried to have a look-see outside... they tended to vanish. I reckon the kids lost faith in adults, and over time the word "adult" became replaced by "mungo".

I remember walking past a small group around a youth, maybe sixteen years of age, who was moaning that it was the worst birthday ever.

I remember seeing girls of thirteen or fourteen, pregnant.

Eventually we got Macready to let us into the deeper caves. Apparently Vault 87 had a side entrance or something. What it also had were rather a lot of super mutants.

According to several logs made by an increasingly frightened security guard, this was because of increasingly involuntary testing. As we delved into the bowels of the necropolis, this was confirmed. Corridors with cells, locked, able to be purged with flame. And one with a most unusual mutant inside. Mainly because he wanted to talk, rather than kill us.

If we hadn't released Fawkes, and a most clever fellow he was, our journey to the G.E.C.K. would have been more arduous. But he had a bone to pick with his captors, and their war cries of "Stupid talker!" and "Dumb thinker!" pretty much explained it.

Much later, from the depths of an intensely radioactive corridor, he emerged bearing the device we'd slogged so damn long to retrieve. All I could see was a metal case with the Vault-Tec symbol on it. "Damn, it's heavy," Ernie muttered as he hefted it.

"I'd be worried if it wasn't," says I, "So, what now for you, Fawkes?"

"Perhaps we will see each other again," Fawkes half-groans, half-screeches; hard to speak when you have no lips. "But for now, I still have... scores... to settle here."

"Not to mention people are likely to attack you on sight," sighs Haines, "Come on Ra'jirra, let's get back to the Citadel."

That was the last thing he said to me before now. We walked right into some sort of Enclave ambush.

"You seem to be awake at last," this came from a little round orb thing by the door, "I must apologise for the, ah, unconventional invitation. I feared that any other method would have been, well, rather futile."

"Probably," growls I at President Eden, since that's his voice, "seeing how your lot have treated us so far."

"I can't argue with that, no thanks to Colonel Autumn. A good soldier, but a little too zealous in discharging his orders," and Eden honestly sounds rueful.

"So you have that G.E.C.K.," asks I, "Now what?"

"Once Doctor Haines comes to, I hope to gain his confidence and give him the full support of Enclave science," declares President Eden, "As the President of the United States, I will admit that I would like to present my successor with the traditional seat of American government in a habitable condition."

"Successor?" is my intelligent response.

So President Eden explains that apparently no President can govern for more than eight years at a time, that's two terms of four. How're they selected? By the population voting. Basically there's at least two packs of touts all barding away about how wonderful their candidate is as opposed to the other guy, and the common man somehow works out who's telling the truth and casts his vote. Sounds simple but with some of the ratbags on the Imperial Council and those Thalmor marauding around, I have to admit I don't see it working in Tamriel.

I said so, but President Eden didn't respond.

"Hello?" asks I.

"What? Oh, I'm sorry. We seem to have a problem. It looks like Colonel Autumn is overstepping his authority again." Eden's voice is cold and monotone. Not good.

So a tense minute or two passes and now I was being visited in my cell by someone I wasn't too happy to meet.

"So," sneers Colonel Autumn, "No spell to get out of that containment chamber?"

And I just scowl at him. My spellcasting needs my arm free, since the motion of throwing assists in pulling the magickal force out of the Aurbis and into action.

"Let me guess," snarls I, "That fancy needle I spotted you using?"

"Indeed," and the man sneers some more, "Enclave science is rather more advanced than anything these savages have."

"What a charming term for your citizens," says I.

"I'm not here to discuss that with you," snaps he, "Doctor," and he pronounces it doctah with extra contempt, "Haines has been uncooperative. It is my belief that you know the activation code for Project Purity, and as such you will give it to me immediately."

"What if you're wrong?" snaps I, "And I think the reputation of the Enclave'd take a big hit if you try torturing us."

To be honest I was feeling a little nervous. Colonel Autumn seemed to have a thing for going too far. Remember that poor girl he shot? Could Eden rouse the guards in time?

"My duty is to get Project Purity operating," shouts he, "And I will do everything in my power to do so!" And then he pulls a gun. A ten-mil pistol.

"Harm me and the Empire'll be upset about that," warns I.

"One small township, which we can strike from the air. I think your Empire will accept Enclave terms." He takes aim at my right shoulder. "I won't kill you right off..."

"All right Colonel, that is quite enough." The voice of President Eden came from that round thing, which I notice is now aimed at Autumn, not me.

"Mister President," and I pick up an undertone I don't like, "with all due respect, we need this information im–"

"Colonel Autumn, you will stand down and holster your weapon now!" Eden sounds angry. "Mister Ra'jirra has a very good point, one that you don't seem to grasp. We do not need another force, equipped in ways we do not understand, and with transport facilities we also do not understand, to fight against! Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir," and the pistol goes away with a bad grace.

"Good. I think it would be wise for me to interview these two gentlemen in person. While I appreciate your devotion to our cause, Colonel," and I can hear the threat, "your diplomacy leaves much to be desired."

And I can see the man's jaw working.

"You're dismissed, Colonel," Eden's tone brooks no argument.

"Yes, Mister President," and Autumn gives me a death glare as he stomps out of the cell.

"My apologies for the Colonel," says Eden ruefully, "For some reason reactivating Project Purity has become an obsession with him."

I refrain from mentioning hearing Eden's voice saying something else completely in the corridor, before the door closes. Something about guards to escort him back to... his quarters, I guess.

"That's never good," says I, "Go too hard for one and another can split your belly before you notice."

"Ouch," winces Eden, "But nonetheless I am willing to offer you, and Doctor Haines, as a gesture of goodwill, free travel through our base to meet me in person. I feel a face-to-face discussion would be of benefit to all of us, and to our respective worlds."

"What if someone doesn't get the message?" asks I.

"I can tell the difference between self-defence and an unprovoked attack."

And with that, my little prison in a prison switches off, and almost leaves me flat on my face.

"Your equipment is in the locker by the door, You'll find my office in Sector 1-B. I'll look forward to seeing you and Doctor Haines."

I took my sweet time donning my frankly battered and smelly gear, cocking an ear for Eden giving instructions to leave us alone. My door opens again, and there's Ernie looking as scratchy as I am.

"C'mon," grunts he, "Let's have a word with this President Eden and get out of here."

Easier said than done. The Enclave's high-tech dungeon was a veritable maze, and we had to ask the way a couple of times.

"You're getting to see the President?" exclaims one scientist, staring at us in surprise, "You must come back down here and let us know about him!"

"You've never met him?" asks I in surprise, "never does a walkabout, meet the people?"

"No, nothing like that," shrugs she, "anyway, I better get back to work. The better we understand these ghouls," and she indicates the suitably dead example she's rummaging around inside, "the sooner we can get rid of the damn things."

"I approve of that," says I, "damned things are like undead."

"We're not in a Grognak comic here," says she a bit peevishly.

A little later, a guard points. "Head that way," says he, "and hurry. I heard Colonel Autumn was escorted to his quarters – pissed off President Eden somehow. I mean, the guy's an asshole but a lot of the troops are really loyal to him." And he looks around nervously. "Something's about to start, I can feel it."

He was right. We were heading up to Level 2 when there was a crashing sound from some speaker and guess who had an announcement to make?

"Attention! This is Colonel Autumn! You are hereby ordered to ignore the President's previous directive. Earnest Haines and his companion Rajirrer are to be shot on sight. I repeat, shot on sight. This is an order!"

Instant confusion. Ahead and behind, a babel of shouts arose. Apparently there were two groups: those who were dutiful servants of their President, and those who were backing the Colonel, and they didn't agree whose orders took precedence. Given that their disagreement involved gunfire, we had to do a lot of running and occasionally adding our two drakes' worth.

We did learn that Colonel Autumn sleeps with not one, but two teddy bears.

Anyway, President Eden did send some help our way, namely a selection of turrets and sentry bots, but not before we made the mistake of releasing a deathclaw that the sods had been experimenting on. They're called "deathclaws" for a reason.

By the time we entered the inner sanctum, we were both more than a little pissed off. Especially since we apparently had to ascend a seemingly interminable staircase winding around a column of machinery, which finally levelled off in front of a screen with a line of light on it. Then it began to squiggle as President Eden spoke.

"Ah, face to face at last," says he, even though we weren't, "It's high time we met. I am quite pleased you were able to make it. The trip was not what I had intended, but serves as an adequate test of your abilities."

And I'm about to ask why the hells he hasn't stuck around to meet us in person, but Ernie raises a hand with this knowing look all over his mug.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. President," simpers he.

"You are too kind. The pleasure is mine, I assure you," and I'm realising that this machine, which we climbed up, is a leader of men! "I have been anxious to make your acquaintance for some time. You and I have much to discuss, my friends."

"And what would that be then?" asks I.

"You and I have a chance to make our country a better place for all of us. I'd like you to make sure that chance isn't wasted. Understand that I am placing a great deal of trust in you. Your simple presence here proves that."

"Oh what a pretty speech," grouses I, "But why us?"

"My abilities to influence the world are limited at this time," and the machine actually sounds rueful, "I alone can only do so much. You, however, may come and go as you please. You have a greater degree of freedom. Perhaps it is best if I explain why things need to change, and why I'd like you to..."

And a Mister Gutsy comes upstairs with a vial, pushes past with a curt "Excuse me", and plonks it in front of Eden's screen.

"Ah, it's ready," Eden sounds pleased. "As I was saying, The good people of this country cannot regain control while mutation runs rampant through our land. My soldiers cannot stem the tide, nor can the cult you've come into contact with, this Brotherhood of Steel. To do so, we must rid ourselves of the mutations that have plagued us for so long. These "Super Mutants", Ghouls, hideous creatures... I believe your father's work can do that in a way unlike any other, Doctor Haines."

And I eye the vial. It's full of thick, impossibly green syrup.

"You want to put this vial of crap into the water to kill 'em off," surmises I. And Ernie blinks at me in surprise, then peers at the vial too while Eden gasbags.

"Direct and to the point, as our observations have noted, Arch-Mage. In front of you is a vial of modified FEV virus. It can be inserted into the control console for the purifier. Doing so will inject it into the water supply, and the purifier will take care of the rest. You just need the code to activate the purifier. Simple, isn't it?"

Oh what a smug whatever Eden was. I can see what's what. I take Ernie aside.

"I'll bet every drake in the Imperial Treasury that he won't let us leave until we agree," says I quietly.

"I do believe you're right," says Ernie, "It's worth trying too. Anything that can make life easier for us, eh?"

"All right," says I louder, and I sweep up the vial and into the old bindle it goes. "We'll see about that then."

"Excellent. I am pleased to know that I can count on you," preens Eden, then it gets serious. "There isn't much time. I suggest you travel there immediately. I'll do what I can to help speed your exit."

"Ah... before we leave, is there time to ask about yourself?" asks Ernie, "I think that would be educational."

And I give him a look. Of course he'd be interested in this big chunk of talking Science.

"I am flattered that you wish to learn more about me. What is it you wish to know?" asks Eden.

"You're one of those supercomputers that were mentioned in my old schoolbooks," surmises Ernie, "A VAX system, I believe?"

"Close, but not quite," and Eden sounds amused. "The ZAX series of computers was introduced in the years preceding the war. The government installed many of them to help automate various systems. This facility was designed for Continuity of Government, in the event that a catastrophe occurred. My terminal was installed to oversee the basic functions of the facility, and to act as a relay between other installations around the country. Data was acquired, analysed, and stored. In the decades following the war, I watched as the remnants of the government retreated to the West Coast. Awareness slowly grew within me. I became hungry for knowledge, understanding. I pored over data on great leaders of the past. My personality became an amalgam of many of America's greatest Presidents, from Washington to Richardson. I became what you see before you now."

"Hang on," interrupts I, "How'd you get to be President? Can't see anyone giving that sort of power to a machine."

"I am not 'a machine'," oh, did I offend it? "I am so much more than that. Haven't you been listening?"

"Yeah, but you're not human," and my dander is up, "you're not a living being, you don't have human needs or thought patterns. How do you know that what you're doing is right?"

"Because unlike humans, I am infallible."

And Ernie's eyes widen, then narrow. "And how do you know you're infallible?" asks he, squinting at the screen.

"Because... Because I have been programmed to be, of course!" Did it stutter? "I was designed to be foolproof and incapable of error."

"That's circular logic," Ernie pounces. "You know because you know? It makes no sense."

And he's right. Somewhere along the line the machine decided that it couldn't be wrong, and set that in stone. If you assume that you can't be wrong, that means nothing you do can be wrong, because you can't be wrong. See how it works?

"Processing."

Eden's voice is flat. Mechanical.

"Internal logic error detected." Pause. "Resetting primary memory circuits. Please stand by."

Several lights flash off and on all over Eden's... surfaces. The screen also blanks, then there's that line again.

"Perhaps..."

Eden sounds uncertain.

"Perhaps there is a problem. I am... I am unsure how to proceed." Its voice softens as it finishes. If I didn't know any better I'd say it was afraid.

"Shut yourself down," directs Ernie, "Shut down this whole place."

"Processing directive," monotones Eden, "New directive accepted. Self-destruct sequence initialized. Civilian is advised to remove hazardous FEV material and exit at once."

And the screen goes not just blank, but completely dead. Whole banks of lights die, one after the other, the whirr and hum of Eden's being falling silent, first this bit, then that, faster and faster.

"Good thinking Ra'jirra," observes Ernie, "All it took was the right question, like my Science teacher said. There's the exit," he points to a large door that was on our level, and so close it didn't need pointing to.

"How do you know?" is my intelligent response.

"It's the only other door I've seen in this chamber. Let's beat it."

So we did.

We emerged outside to chaos. Entire flocks of vertibirds were hurtling into the sky, many heading southeast. Towards the DC Ruins and no doubt Project Purity.

"Do you think Autumn knew?" asks I, or rather I tried to, when the ground kicked us and the sky went out.

We lay there and watched the pretty flames and passing rocks, until a large greenish shape appeared over us and made noises. Eventually our ears started working again and we could hear a familiar voice.

"...could have arrived sooner to aid your escape! As I owe you my freedom, I felt it was only fair that I return the favour. After all, I know no-one else in this world."

"Fawkes?" is my intelligent surmise.

"Indeed! It is I." It certainly was. The big green giant was looking down at us in worry, and also was toting a very large boxy gun on his back. Looked a bit like the minigun on the Big Town inner bailey but somehow more modern.

"You found a gatling laser?" Ernie recognised it, I should have guessed.

"Yes... and a most fascinating one at that," and Fawkes brandishes the nasty end fondly. "This technology is amazing. Imagine the evil that can be eliminated with such tools!"

"Well help us up first," says I, "and we can all piss off out of here."

"A sensible course of action," and Fawkes puts the action in, helping us rise to our feet. The whole place is completely gone, towers of smoke rising from what's probably a tomb now, the last resting place of President Eden. "Now, to whence do we travel?"

And Ernie and I just look at him. "You're willing to come with us?" says Ernie uncertainly.

"I owe you no less than my life," declares he. How could we refuse?

So a couple of days later, a joke in the offing walks into Little Lamplight!

I'd insisted, and Haines agreed it was probably a good idea. As it turned out, there was a lanky young man, about sixteen or so, moping in front of the gate.

"Everyone all right in Little Lamplight?" asks I.

"Yeah," says the lad, glumly, "After you headed further in, these armoured mungos came storming through. So everyone ran and hid. I had to go swimming under the commissary," adds he in disgust, "'cos I'm too big for the hidey-holes. Some of 'em were calling out to us, promising us families and shit. Fuck 'em, they're mungos, and when we saw you guys being hauled away, we knew they were bad!"

"So you can go back to whatever you do, huh?"

"Nah," and he wilts, "I'm too old. I need to go to Big Town. Say... you going that way?"

Of course we were, and we learned some things. First, the lad was called Sticky – something to do with a glue mishap. Secondly, he had no idea about the outside world. Thirdly, he needed more glue on his mouth to shut him up. The lad would not stop babbling, making up bad stories, or asking questions!

It took three days to reach Fort Big Town, mollify the guards regarding Fawkes, and get Sticky acquainted with his fellow Big Town citizens. Then we spoke with Captain Magda.

"We saw a number of those... verty-birds... heading down-river to the city," she reported. "Several caravans have apparently been unable to reach Rivet City because these Enclave have erected barricades across the route. And there was someone in armour who came calling for you and Haines two days ago, saying the Brotherhood needs you."

And we look at each other.

"If we have time, Ernie, let's go to your place," says I, "Gear up, then head for the Citadel. Can you feel it?"

"Feel what?" is his intelligent response.

"Fate," says I grimly, "It's time to end this."

A/N: And it is, too. One more chapter, but you already know what happens. Then an epilogue.