10 November 2277: The Battle of Project Purity

Ernie and Fawkes and I went back to his little house in Springvale for the night. Neither of us spoke. The night was full of rotor blades; vertibirds buzzing, west to east.

The next morning, all geared up, we left the house and headed downriver. Barely five minutes out we encountered a group of raiders coming the other way. The fact they were uninterested in attacking on sight should have been reassuring but wasn't.

"What the fuck're you doin' goin' that way?" demands one. He's got a rag tied around one arm and it's not a fashion statement. "Rivet City's blocked off man! These armoured fuckers just flew in and started shootin' the shit outa anyone they saw!"

"The goddamn Enclave," snarls Ernie, "What do you mean, they've blocked off Rivet City?"

"Whaddya fuckin' think? There's heaps of those bastards, and their weird light wall things. They're crawlin' all over that round place with all the pipes. If you wanna get to Rivet City, you gotta take the Metro and hope nothin' gets ya down there."

"Project Purity," Ernie says at last, "it's always that."

"Let's get to the Citadel," says I.

"And I will follow!" declares Fawkes.

So the three of us had a nice unmolested run to the Citadel, where we were ambushed as soon as we got into the central courtyard.

"Earnest Haines you Mariposa-bound – what in Maxson's name have you done to that armour?" Oh, right, Paladin Gunny.

"We haven't got time for your shit Gunny," snaps Haines with some heat, "We've got the Enclave to finish off."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" is Gunny's intelligent response.

"Follow me," is Haines' unenlightening riposte.

So off we go to the lab, and to our lack of surprise Elder Lyons is waiting for us, along with a number of the higher-ranked lads and lasses.

"So, you're back," says the Elder, and I get the notion he's relieved that we arrived. "We had feared both you and the G.E.C.K. were lost. Were you successful?"

"Sort of," starts Ernie, "The salient points are: We got captured by the Enclave –"

"Who're not a unified bunch," continues I, since I see an interruption coming, "since that bastard Autumn defied the President –"

"He what?" is Elder Lyon's intelligent response.

"The president, by the way," continues Ernie, "was an artificial intelligence running on a ZAX mainframe in Raven Rock." He put heavy emphasis on the 'was'.

"This story is getting harder to believe by the word," objects the Elder. "Wait a minute, what do you mean, was?"

"Turns out the bloody thing was running on circular logic," says I, "Ernie managed to talk the thing into recognising that and then forced it to shut down. With one hell of a bang, I might add."

"That would explain the explosion from the northwest," observes one young lady in armour.

"And it wanted to stick this modified FEV strain in the purifier," fumbles Ernie at his pack, looking for the vial of poison goo in question.

"Which is not happening," interjects I, "because it'll sicken or kill off everyone not in a working Vault."

"Wait, what?" is the Elder's totally understandable response, followed by, "No... hold on, I... understand. Everyone here, every survivor, we were all affected by the radiation. Changed by it."

This appears to be news to everyone else within earshot.

"Fath..." starts the young lady, "Elder, what do you mean?"

"We're mutants, Paladin Lyons," oh, so she's his daughter! "Just not as blatantly so as ghouls or super mutants. This virus is meant to purge the world of mutants, and that would sweep us all up as well."

With comprehension powers like those I can see why he made Elder. "We will make sure it is destroyed properly," he informs Ernie.

"Sure thing. Here it is," and he offers up the vial. A small thing, but so in retrospect was the Amulet of Kings, and look what it set off.

"Thank you," and Elder Lyons frowns at the vial like it's going to bite him if he looks away. "I'll see to it that it's disposed of properly..."

And one of the Brotherhood scribes coughs, and the others look at him like he's from the Mythic Dawn.

"...Once the Scribes have had time to analyze it," and Elder Lyons sounds resigned. "Perhaps we have underestimated the Enclave. Sarah may be right; an attack may be necessary now."

"They've blocked off access to Rivet City, and I'll bet they're eyeing it for a new base. And as long as they're sitting on Project Purity like a broody hen, they control any water," points out I.

"I see. In that case..." and Elder Lyons pauses, then straightens up. In his face, a long-sleeping warrior just woke up. "Then it's decided. Sarah, you take the Pride and use the robot as support. Take our friends here and secure that purifier."

"What?" This comes from a silver-haired gent I have to strain to remember the name of, Wrathchild or something equally Nord-ish. "Elder, it's not ready for field tests, let alone live fire situations! The weapons haven't been calibrated, the navigation detection system is offline..."

"So?" snaps the Elder, "Can you make it work?"

"What?" he seems fond of that intelligent response. "No! I mean, Li and I have solved the power problems, but we've only barely finished diagnostic tests."

And he peters out because of the look Elder Lyons is giving him.

"I've made my decision, Scribe Rothchild," oh well I was close. "This old man's patience is wearing thin. You've got three hours. Don't fail us."

"All right, all right," gives up Rothchild, "I'll see what what I can do. Oh, out of the way, damnit, giant robot to fix? Hmm?" he addresses the rest of us.

"Sorry," says I, moving to one side.

"Sorry," says Fawkes, moving also to one side.

"Need some assistance?" asks Ernie, and it's actually nice to see his old fascination with Science coming forth again. As I said, the last few days he was rather more... set, is the best way to put it.

"Doctor Haines," interrupts the lass, who I understand to be one Paladin Sarah Lyons, "I need to brief you and the rest of the Pride asap. "

And I watch that old light go out of his eyes again.

The discussion between the younger Lyons and everyone else was about two things. First, she officially made him a member of the elite group, Lyons' Pride. Then she and Gunny tag-teamed him about the wrecked state of his power armour, before shooing him upstairs to get it repaired as much as possible. Finally they talked tactics, which in practice were actually fairly simple.

"We're ready," says Ernie loudly about two hours later by my estimate.

And I turn to look at him. "We are?"

"There's no point in waiting. God only knows if there's more of those shitbirds coming. Let's strike while we still can."

Somehow I doubt that Mehrunes Dagon would have accepted being swung onto the battlefield at the end of a crane. Liberty Prime wasn't a Daedric Prince, however, and it cared about only one thing: Crushing the enemy. Speaking of which, a vertibird spotted what was going on and changed course to intercept us.

"COMMUNIST ENGAGED!" declares the giant robot and battle was joined.

That was the first time we saw Liberty Prime in action. Two painfully blue-white beams sprang from its eyes, turning the flying machine into a pretty firework. More Enclave forces started shooting, and Liberty Prime responded with a magic trick. It flung what looked like Fat Man rounds and made them disappear.

After that little demonstration up the bridge he goes and stops at the first force field.

"OBSTRUCTION DETECTED," says Obvious Prime, "COMPOSITION: TITANIUM ALLOY SUPPLEMENTED BY PHOTONIC RESONANCE BARRIER. PROBABILITY OF MISSION HINDRANCE: ZERO PERCENT!"

And it walked straight into the thing, which started to make interesting electric noises before going bang. Several other things behind it also went bang, along with a number of fleeing Enclave troops who also went bang at us.

"COMMUNISM IS A TEMPORARY SETBACK ON THE ROAD TO FREEDOM," opines Liberty Prime, and most of the Enclave troops discovered that being blown to bits by a giant robot is a permanent setback to everything.

Liberty Prime was meant to be a propaganda weapon as well as a regular one. "COMMUNISM IS A LIE!" was a favourite line, along with "AMERICA WILL PREVAIL!".

Not to mention predictions of enemy victory being "ZERO PER-CENT."

So we followed in Liberty Prime's wake, and that was the way I liked it. Plasma shots, laser beams, missiles, force fields, super mutants that didn't realise the danger, all fell. We could have done with a Liberty Prime back on Tamriel, except for it being too tall to fit through the city gates.

So anyway we finally reached dear old Project Purity, and stomped up to the control room, on the basis that whoever was in charge would be promenading around there. I added a wager that said whoever was in charge would insist on speechifying.

And I was right.

"You again," says he from between two heavily armed bookends, "You're bent on wrecking everything we –"

And I whistle at Ernie. "Pay up," orders I.

"What?" I'm not sure if Autumn was equally as intelligent as Ernie, but I wasn't in the mood for speeches.

"The wager, remember? Before we get to off the cunt, he'd start speechifying. Now that Eden's turned off, he's going to promote himself to King Autumn and hold all the water hostage unless everyone bends knee to him."

And Autumn took exception to that – apparently he preferred to be called President – but it was all blah blah blah as far as I was concerned, so out came the trade tools and rather a lot of noise later Autumn and the bookends were somewhat dead.

"Got you, you bastard," Ernie growled, plucking another, really quite well-kept laser pistol out of Autumn's hand, and inspecting it interestedly, "And you said nothing about a wager."

"True that," grunts I, pulling healing to myself, "But seems the bad sods always want to brag, and I've not time for it at my age."

And Ernie laughs quietly, before asking, "What the hell's that klaxon for?"

He was right about the klaxon. As if to underline it, there was a huge deep moan from somewhere in the place and several chunks of shrapnel rattled.

So we moved up towards the control room, where Doctor Li's voice was coming at speed from an intercom.

"Dr Haines here," says Ernie, pushing on a big red button as he does so, "What's happening?"

"I don't know what happened up there, but there's over-pressure warnings everywhere!" is Dr Li's panicked response. "We need to activate Project Purity now before it blows!"

The great Ra'jirra brain works out that the project is likely to blow in the direction of up, and seeing as I'm right inside it I'm not excited about that at all. Neither is Ernie.

"I'm on it," says he, "I'll activate right away."

"Ernie wait!" yelps Li before Haines can turn away.

"What? What is it?" asks he.

"When you activate... it's going to release a huge amount of radiation again..." I hear Li take a shaky breath, "...like last time. Whoever goes into the control room... won't be coming out."

And Project Purity groans.

And we all just stand there.

"All right," says Ernie, "Sarah, cycle the airlock on my order."

"You're not going in!" cries I.

"Yes."

There's a lot in that word. And finally I know. He's decided, like Emperor Martin did.

"Doctor Haines," says Paladin Lyons urgently, "I can do it. Just tell me the code –"

"No, I will do this!" cries Fawkes, "I am a super mutant! I will surely be able to withstand the radiation burst."

"No!" And he's pointing a plasma rifle at us. "I have to do this." He swallows, then goes on thickly. "My family is dead," says he quietly, "my life is a lie. Until a few months ago I thought I was just another citizen of Vault 101, but Dad took that away from me. The Enclave took Dad away from me. Mom..."

And he trails off. And I understand. I'd eventually leave too, and Ernie would... well, he could find some nice girl, make his own family, but...

...but he doesn't believe that. He believed in Science, but he didn't know what to believe in. Except one negative thing: he had no place in this world any more.

"Cycle the airlock, Paladin Lyons," orders he at last, in a cold dead voice.

"Doctor..."

"Do it."

"Like he said," agrees I at last. I sheathe my weapon and raise one hand in farewell. "May the Nine guide your soul through Aetherius, Earnest Haines," says I at last.

Haines said nothing as one reinforced glass door closes and the other opens. "You'd better get out of here," calls he, muffled, before turning away.

He stepped to the console, looked at it, ran a hand along one side, then pressed three buttons.

Two, one, six.

As in his parents' favourite bible verse, Revelations, chapter twenty-one, verse six.

Then he pressed the execute button, and the last I saw of him before the terrible light took him and damn near took us as well, he was facing us, smiling, and saluting.

About a fortnight later I finally recovered from a near-miss with lethal radiation levels and made my way back to Fort Big Town.

The house outside Springvale that Ernie had commandeered when he first emerged from Vault 101 had always felt sad, even when Ernie was resident. Once someone's prized home, filled with a family's laughter, tears, and dramas, maybe the morning griping of children sent to the nearby school where one day Legionnaires would hunt down the raiders lurking within. Then the hopeful logs of Ginger, and the plans and wild hopes of poor Ernie.

Ernie wasn't coming home again.

In the Citadel morgue his face looked almost peaceful, apart from where the skin had come off from handling, and the eyelids fallen into his melted sockets. Paladin Lyons was still in a coma, and Fawkes had been so distraught that he had vanished into the night. There were sightings of him around the DC Mall, but nothing concrete.

I vaguely remembered Elder Lyons and Sawbones as I awoke – the old man astonished that I was alive, and the robot complaining that I was hogging a cot meant for more deserving soldiers.

I remembered the looks in the eyes of the Brotherhood, and their salutes as I passed.

I don't remember the track I took to the Sewer Waystation. I do remember staring at the Eat-O-Tronic on the wall, looking for what wasn't there. Hearing the angry, off-balance voice of a balding young man with a grey bushy beard. Science! Science! SCIENCE!

I remembered the young man with a new hairstyle, staring in disbelief at his hand in the light of the fire. I did that? How did I... I must have... How...

I remembered the young man with more (and now oddly-tinted) hair, standing before the machine ruler.

I remembered Haines looking at us through the glass before performing the last three acts of his life.

I remembered that Haines had stashed some booze in the kitchen fridge for trading.

I traded my sobriety for grief.

Given what I've said about Ernie's arrogance, his obsession with Science and finding his father, you might wonder that. Wonder no more.

Ernie was a Champion – hand-picked by the gods, like Zul gro-Radagash, like the poor Emperor Martin Septim, like myself. Will we nil we, we were destined to greatness and pivotal things; I to save the Mage's Guild, Zul to bring Martin to the Temple of the One, Martin to – well, you know.

And Ernie was destined to bring clean water to the people of the Capital Wasteland, without stint and without favour. They'd even come up with a cute name for it: Aqua Pura.

I climbed down the ladder into the basement and turned on the jukebox. Galaxy News Radio came on in the middle of one of Three Dog's pre-recorded announcements.

"...101 may not be with us any more, but his spirit lives on, fighting the good fight. Y'see, Doctor Earnest Haines' father, James, had a vision: Clean, clear, radiation-free water, free to everyone. And on that vision he based a project: Project Purity. Yep – the same Project Purity that the Enclave wanted for itself." I could hear his voice grow flinty. "Control all the water and add poison into it, so that not only would all the Super Mutants die... but also any poor sap not pure-bred enough for the Enclave's standards.

"Thanks to the Doc and his furry friend from another world, Ra'jirra, Project Purity was torn from the Enclave's clutches. So now the water caravans are spreading out across the Wasteland, from the DC Ruins to the Republic of Dave, to... well, Paradise Falls, Megaton, Canterbury Commons, hell all over! So getcha drinking glasses ready children –"

The fancy fridge in the corner still held the half-empty bottle of scotch I'd quaffed back then. I found a shot glass and poured a toast to the good Doctor.

"– The Doc's got this round covered."

A/N: There's a little epilogue to come yet. Then it's over. Fun fact: the scene in Ernie's house was originally part of the epilogue I'd written years ago.