The man leads us to another cubic structure in a different room of the vault. For a time being I believed the vault to be a single room, with smaller rooms built within. I was mistaken. The vault is much larger than I had initially thought. Yet the room he leads us to, is simply the sleeping quarters for men of higher rank. I can tell by the colors they wear. Brown suits seem to be security and staff, blue is workers, whilst black is the rare higher-ups. Trainees such as I once was, wear white jumpsuits. Instead of the typical vault number on the back of them, they wear their identification numbers, in black.
Dez follows behind me, her hands gripping my belt tightly. Although I can feel her hands, I look back every once in a while to make sure she is still there. The fear on her face, is none like I've ever seen before. She must understand the situation we are in, and knows there is a slim chance of escaping. Even I cannot properly formulate a plan, while my mind is this congested with thoughts and memories.
"This is where you'll be sleeping. If you require food, ring the intercom and it will be brought to you. There is a bathroom facility built in. You will be locked in until tomorrow morning."
He opens the door and we walk in, without so much as a glance in his direction. As soon as we are inside, and the door locked, Dez released her grip on my belt and dashes in front of me.
"What the hell is going on?"
She demands, and rightfully so. Taking my gun from my back, and hers from her waist, I place them beside the bed we will share. Aside from that, a small table and chairs, and a small door leading to the bathroom, there is nothing. It is a plain, steel room, with no decoration or anything of sorts. I do not like the look, or the feel of it. Dez's eyes burn into me, demanding answers for questions she cannot ask.
"Well? We came here for answers, right? Did you find them?"
She is angry, and rightfully so. I did not expect this to happen.
"Yes. I did."
"What?"
I sit on the bed, and she sits beside me.
"I wondered, often, why I could not shake the feeling of this place from my mind. I know now, why that is. Why I felt the need to search for my past. When someone is constantly watching you, your subconscious mind recognizes that. They did not want me to move on from this place. They wanted me here, as I am now."
"We shouldn't have come."
"With or without your suggestion to travel to the Citadel, it was inevitable that I would arrive here in time. They would have brought me by force, if no other way."
Dez looks at me, refusing to abandon hope. With her now safe, my mind can think straight, think clear. Andrew's plan…it seems…as if it will work. I know this may sound crazy, but I was raised in this same structure. I know, that when they plan something they plan it with the intent of not only seeing it from every possible angle, but executing it perfectly. Andrew wishes, to create an army of sorts. I have a suspicion that people will also use the men and women here, in singles, as I was used, and as the others were. Protection, against those opposing government. He talked of order, the same plan the Brotherhood had. I suppose Elder Lyons, was to be the man to bring this world order and structure, but his plan was foiled, and the job passed down to his son. Yet, Andrew said himself, the men are not ready. Lyons, in his older hierarchy, perhaps thought differently. We learn from the mistakes of our fathers.
"Charon?"
Dez grabs my arm, breaking my thought process. I look at her. If I ask, will she, also, think that this plan is insane? Or rather, will she agree, and inform me my insanity is all simply in my own mind?
"Did you hear what Andrew's plan was?"
I ask her, and she looks at me. This should be the last thing on my mind, I am aware of that, yet I cannot help it.
"He wants to do what everyone else in a position of power wants, Charon. Bring law and order to not just the Capital Wasteland, but everything. Everything."
"…Under the ruling of anyone else, this plan would not work. Yet I know this place, know how it plans and executes said plans. There is a very slim chance, for failure."
Dezbe looks at me, shocked, her face draining of color and dropping. She stands up and lights a cigarette from the pocket of her vault-suit. After puffing on it, and pacing, she finally breaks.
"Are you fucking crazy, Charon? How many screws did you lose over the years, really? You're actually going to side with the people who tortured you, maimed you, made you a…a…"
She stops herself mid sentence. Looking back at me, she picks up where she left off.
"Where in your stupid head do you think that taking over the world is a good idea? Tell me, Charon, where? Not only that but why do you think it's good to help the people you've told me time and time again that you hate?"
"They wish to not take over the world, but enforce a system of government that worked before the war. Their military, if using the people trained here, will obey and not cause harm to the innocent."
"Unless ordered to. Charon it's like communism! It looks all well and fine on paper but it just doesn't work."
"Dezbe, you do not know this facility. Their planning is immaculate. They have the ability and the technology to bring the Capital Wasteland, America, back to working form."
Dez sighs and exhales smoke, shaking her head at me.
"Charon, the world is working! It's fine the way it is! If you want law, go to New Vegas. If you want freedom and lawlessness and fun guns, go into any Wasteland on the planet. It's pick and choose here, it's…it's perfect. Why, would you want to let anyone destroy that?"
"Because you were not around during the pre-war times. You do not know of the privileges, technologies and easy way of living they so had it to be."
"And what happened? What happened in 2077, Charon, what?"
"The Great War."
"Exactly! Has there been war since then? No. Has there been fighting and battles, yes but no one uninvolved died! Charon…they weren't around either for pre-war. They're all descendants of those from your time."
"Your argument holds valid points."
"But?"
"But I cannot shake the idea that Andrew Lyons' plan is something better for the long-term of the Capital Wasteland."
Dez says nothing. Instead, she puts her cigarette in her mouth, and stares at me. I know of that look. I know, what she is thinking. Before I can stop her, she opens her hand and hits me across the cheek. A loud snapping noise echoes in the small room, as pain flows in my face. She still has one hard hit. I stare at her, as I move my head back in place. Her hands go from open to close, and she exhales tight plumes of smoke from her pale lips.
"If you do this, then I'll fight you on it."
"Dezbe?"
"What about Gob? And Zack? You don't know what they're really going to do, Charon! They could be lying! They could want it all for themselves, and slaughter everyone or take them and make them slaves like they did to you! I love you, Charon. I love you more than the sun and the night sky but…"
Tears form in her eyes. She stares at me, strong from the years, wise from the events, and knowing her place in this world, finally.
"…I can't sacrifice the future of Gob and Zack, for…the possibility of a brighter centenary. I can't…give my home away on a silver platter, to men that hurt and kill children."
"You would be saving far more children than you would be harming, if you cooperated."
She throws her cigarette on the ground, and stomps it out with her foot.
"You have this all figured out, don't you? You think these people will rise above, and take what's not theirs and make it better, somehow, don't you?"
"For the most part, yes."
Shaking her head, Dez moves across the room. My eyes follow her. I know her better than anyone. I know, she is planning something.
"Charon, look at my neck."
I do so, as she points to the old scar that faintly remains, after years and years of time. The scar, I inflicted upon her.
"You did this. You did this knowing it would hurt me. The circumstances are no different now."
"You will come of no harm, I will make sure of that."
"And Gob, Zack? What about them?"
"They too will be safe."
"And…and the residents of Tenpenny? The friends we've made? Barrows and Graves?"
"Safe."
"The only thing missing from this, is your contract. After all this time, you're still loyal to the people who created you. I was stupid to think you'd be loyal to me. Stupid, that I could somehow help you in this when all along, it's been them. All this time, they've been the puppet masters, and you're nothing but a marionette. For a while your strings were tied, but now…now they're coming undone."
Tears stream down her face. I remain seated. How does she not understand this? These people, although the givers of horrid memories, have ensured my survival. Protected me by their own means, and made sure I was able to surpass the Great War and return to them. All of this, planned in advance. If they can do that for one being, what is stopping them from doing it for the country?
"I must do what is right, Dezbe. We have always done, what is right."
"Not at the risk of us!"
"The Purifier. It was not at your own risk? Disbanding the Brotherhood along with the Outcasts? Everything we have done, has put us at risk. This is no different."
She sniffs her nose and wipes the tears.
"This is different, Charon. Because for the first time, we're on opposing sides. I'm not a hero, I never wanted to be, but I am one. I saved this land, Charon. I won't stop saving it, either."
"What do you mean by that?"
"If you're on one side, and I'm on the other…it means we're enemies. Get me out of here. Tell them you'll work for them only if they let me go."
"Why would I do so, if we are on opposing sides?"
"So you're going to let them keep me here? Kill me, because I know they're not as stupid as the others? Because once they find out this conversation took place, they're killing me just like they killed people you slept beside."
"I will make sure they do not kill you, but you cannot leave here."
I stand up and take her gun from the floor. Carefully, I pull it apart, piece by piece, destroying the inner workings of it. She is not skilled in piecing together broken material, she will not be able, to fix this on her own. I must do what is right. This terrible place, this place I have hated, has followed me unbeknownst to my conscious self. They have protected me, saved me from war, and gave me such skills to do so. It is only right, that I in turn, aid them in helping the world, as they so arrogantly helped me.
"What are you doing with my gun?"
Dez asks, realizing only as I am finishing, what I am doing. She comes over behind me, and her hands stretch out violently, grabbing only the barrel from my hands, while the rest of the metallic pieces clank to the floor.
"Charon! What the hell did you do? What the fuck!"
I turn around and fold my hands. Panic sets in on her part. When will she understand? I am doing this to help her. I will not let them harm her, nor Gob, nor Zack nor anyone she claims to be friendly with. Does she not understand, as I am coming to understand, that this is for the better? That she can save her friends, with the power she has in her position?
"Have you lost your mind? Have you? Answer me! Charon!"
She is frantic, and grips the barrel of her gun in her hand, demanding to know the answers.
"No. I have not. I am doing this for your own safety, and mine. Dezbe, try to understand this is for the best."
"They drugged you, didn't they?"
"No. Dezbe, think of Andrew's plan. It will work. All your friends will not be harmed, no one will be harmed."
"Fuck you! Why did you do this? Tell me!"
"I did."
She slaps me again, and falls to her knees. Bursting into incoherent tears and words, Dezbe hides her face in her hands. I do nothing. I should react, but I do not. There is nothing in me, to cause a reaction.
"Why…?"
She croaks out, her hair falling limply over her hands and face.
"Because I am looking out for the betterment of us. For the world. Do you not want children? Want a family? With this it is possible. Would you not like a place of safety to raise them in?"
Looking up at me, she gives me a look of sheer pain and anguish. I have never seen such a look upon her face.
"I don't want a child, to be born in this place! I don't want to raise a family so they can take it from me! I don't want a child with someone as stupid as you!"
Throwing the barrel at my head, she returns to crying, a heap of mess upon the floor. It misses me, and clanks against the wall beside the bed.
"Stop it."
I tell her, but do not try to comfort her. She does not need comfort. Ignoring me, she remains on the floor, still crying. Her wails grow increasingly annoying with the short passage of time.
"I said stop!"
This time I yell, and hit my fist against the small table. Her wailing stops, and she looks at me. The look on her face, it sends a chill up my spine. Have I done this, once again? Am I the cause of those tears? Wet-faced, Dez's eyes are vacant and lost. She stares at me as if she does not recognize me. Her breathing is so quiet, I feel as if she is not doing it at all. We stare at one another, in silence, in thickness. In this dark steel room, Dezbe has no light shine on her. She, has lost, for the first time in her life.
"…Hey…Charon?"
Her voice is gravelly and sore. She peers at me through strands of hair. I step back.
"What?"
"…Have…have you ever loved someone…so much that…it hurt?"
"What?"
"No…no you…you've never loved anything…that much, have you? You've never…cared about anything, isn't…isn't that right? It's impossible, for you…to care. All this…time you've just…been doing these things because…someone had control over you. Because…someone…was playing the master. You…you never felt anything…for me…for anyone…just…nothing."
I kneel down and grab her shoulders. Staring into those vacant and lost eyes, I search for myself. I cannot see my own reflection. I do not remember what I look like.
"Do not say such things."
"…If you…if you do this…then it shows all anyone needed…to do was present a position of power to you. That…even without a contract, the brainwashing is…so deep it'll never go away."
"You do not know what you are saying."
Her skin is cold under my hands. I do not know the cause of this, because inside of this place, it is not cold. It is cooler than the outside, but not something to shiver over.
"Dezbe? Why are you cold?"
She starts to shudder, shake. But it is not a seizure, not anything medical. It is completely psychological. She stares into my eyes, shivering, with uncontrollable tears running down her scarred and beautiful face.
"I need…I need you to…do this for me."
"Do what? Dezbe, come here."
I pick her up and bring her to the bed. Wrapping her up in blankets, it seems my efforts go unnoticed. She continues to shiver, her eyes never leaving me.
"Kiss me, Charon. Like you used to. Kiss me, and if you ever loved me, you'd kill me right now."
"What?"
"…I can't live in the world you want…I can't…fight against you…because I love you so much…I can't…be happy, either way. Unless…you're beside me on my side, because I'm selfish like that. Because I can't let…this world suffer, for one person."
What scares me is not her request, but the tone of voice she uses. It is calm, calculated, as if she is thinking clearly. As if, she has thought about this, or…rather, accepts that if I do not kill her now, her defiance in the future will. Her rebellion against Andrew and everyone, will be the ultimate death. I know as well as she, that she will not quietly stand by my side as we go above ground and enforce laws and regulations. She will wait patiently, for an opportunity, and take it once she can. They will kill her, then. They will kill her, and she will die, with her efforts, failing.
"…I cannot do that, Dezbe. Do not ask me, to do such difficult things."
Quietly, Dezbe slides her hand from the blanket. She no longer feels cold, as her fingers grasp my own.
"Hold my hand, so we don't get separated."
My fingers close around hers, and wet tears fall on my hand. I look at her, and stroke her hair with my free hand. What caused this? Was it I? Was it the idea that Andrew portrayed? What?
"We will not be apart, I told you this."
"It's okay, Charon. It's…all okay."
"Dezbe?"
"I trust you, remember?"
I blink, and her grip tightens around my own.
"Don't…don't make me want to give up, Charon. Don't…I'm trying…don't."
Trying to analyze her, I stare into her eyes, but there is nothing. As I look at her, she moves closer to me. Her head, presses against the nook of my neck, and she weeps. Letting go of my hand, she wraps her arms around my shoulders, as I kneel in front of her.
"Calm down, it is alright…"
I try to comfort her, as I feel one of her hands sliding from my shoulders. Before I can stop her, her hands wrap around the barrel of my own shotgun that lies on the floor. Pulling away from her, I know that in this state of mind, Dezbe is irrational.
"Hand me the gun."
I tell her, outstretching my hand. She shakes her head, looking at it.
"I don't want to be here anymore. I want to go home. Make them take me home."
"Dezbe, hand me the gun. You cannot leave."
"Let me go home, and let me die fighting for my place. Let me die by your hand, or by fighting. I won't let them take me. I won't…be a prisoner again."
She has the gun, and in doing so, she has the power.
"I cannot unlock the doors. I will have to call them here."
"…I won't leave without you."
"Dezbe make your mind up. I will not go with you. My…my place is here. It always has been."
"Your place is beside me! That's where your place is! You promised to never leave me!"
In her shouts, she is distracted. I rush towards her, and tear the gun from her hands. Pulling the drum out, I hand her back the gun, as I place the drum up high on a ceiling beam far from her reach. Even if she climbed on the bed, she would not be able to reach it. I do not offer her sobs anymore comfort. Instead, I stand against the wall, my arms folded, and my eyes closed. As I did in Underworld, I block out all there is around me, and focus on nothing.