Chapter 8: Dark Intentions
Exeter, followed by Dogmeat, worked their way through the dark hallways of the Quantum Tunneling Division, trying doors left and right, to limited success.
NOVEMBER 7TH, 2292. 11:50PM - VAULT-TEC HQ: SUBLEVEL 15; QUANTUM TUNNELING RESEARCH DIVISION; OFFICE HALLWAYS.
Exeter grunted with exertion as he rammed into the pale white door again, sliding down the door with a small groan. "Ssshhhit… Ough my shoulder." He stood and rubbed his left side. He had given up hope of finding any type of passcard or code for the doors and had instead been relying on brute force. Well, trying to, anyway. The door was hard as steel, despite being made of what appeared to be wood, and did not budge a millimeter, no matter how hard he launched himself against it. A couple of doors had been left open or did not have locks on them, though predictably he did not find anything of major importance or use within those rooms, save for one item; a memo regarding an individual named "Silverman", and his office being located in the research and division wing.
Exeter slipped his mask off and sat down next to the door, taking a deep sigh and lighting a cigarette. He took a drag, pulled out the memo and reread it.
"Employees and Interns,
As you all know, Vault-Tec has taken pride in creating the world's first teleportation system. We strive to create only the best in technological advances for all of mankind. Unfortunately, there have been rumors spreading that have reached the upper levels of management in regards to claims of mistreatment of the workforce.
We would like to dash these rumors. There have been no verified reports of any abuse in the workplace, from the lower intern level, all the way up to management. If you find yourself in a situation where you are afraid or being harassed, please contact me or find me in my office, so we may sort out any grievances you might have.
Regards,
Simon Silverman
West – Tek Military Liaison
Vault – Tec Human Resources Management
Sublevel 15; Hallway J-5, Room 24"
Exeter tucked the letter away and took another drag of his cigarette. "Harassment." He didn't state it as a question, nor as a fact. Simply as a word. He scratched his head. He had a feeling about this Silverman guy that he just couldn't shake, but knew worrying about it would not help at the moment. He looked up at the door currently blocking his way and checked the face plate again. The numbers read "Hallway J-5". He stood and tried the door once more, without success. "Alright." He looked down at Dogmeat, who looked up at him, tail wagging. He pat the dog's head, then pulled on his mask. "Guess I don't really have a choice. I'm going to have to shoot the lock off. Dogmeat, get back boy." The dog barked once and moved back, giving Exeter about 12 feet of space. He pulled out his sidearm, took aim and fired once. The shot echoed through the empty hallway as the bullet ricocheted off the lock and into the floor, leaving a smoking hole. Exeter leaned in to look at the lock, and was astounded to find that the lock was completely intact, with nary a mark to mar the surface.
He ran his thumb over the lock, verifying that it was indeed intact and moved back, dumbfounded. "The lock is strong enough to withstand a .44? Goddamn." He crossed his arms and tapped his foot, going over his options. "Well, alright. If a .44 won't do it, then perhaps a .50 cal will." He unshouldered his PGM, stepped back a couple of feet, and disengaged the safety. Dogmeat yelped as soon as he heard the safety click, and scrambled for cover. Finding none, he curled into a tight ball behind Exeter.
Exeter carefully took aim, taking care to angle the rifle slightly downward from the lock and away from himself and the dog, and pulled the trigger. The resulting bang sounded more like a stick of TNT had been detonated in the small hallway and echoed throughout as the small torpedo of a bullet bounced repeatedly off the walls and floors, down the hallway and back towards him. His visor's electronics flashed warnings as the projectile made its way back, and displayed prediction patterns to ensure its user was unharmed. Exeter's implants kicked into gear as he scooped up his dog with blinding speed and danced around to avoid the oncoming death by depleted uranium. After the bullet finally lost its inertia and came to rest somewhere, he gently put down his dog, and sat once more with a "whuff" against the wall.
He removed his helmet and ran a hand through his dampened hair, panting. "That… that wasn't a very good idea."
Dogmeat growled and Exeter turned to him.
"What? Like you had a better idea."
The dog huffed a response and sat on its haunches, looking around.
Exeter sighed again, letting his head thump repeatedly against the cool, white wall. "What now then. I've no keys. No cards. Nada. Door is solid as a damn rock and my strongest gun did fuck all." He turned to look back up at the lock. "And there's no way in hell I can pick a lock like this. Keyhole is all funny looking." He pulled off his satchel and looked though its contents, as he quietly considered his options. "Maybe a shaped charge? I could dismantle a mini-nuke and place the core in the shell of a bottlecap mine. No, that could be too powerful. A blast like that could collapse the hallway or worse, the entire subterranean network. Worse still, it could hurt Raul and Veronica and destroy the ring. What about a bunch of grenades tied together? No, the blast would be too weak and the shrapnel could tear Dogmeat to shreds." He thumped his chest, and a faint metallic sound could be heard. "Not so much me though. I'm more metal than flesh and bone nowadays. I need a more focused blast but what?" He closed his eyes, letting the quiet of the hallway lull him into a small trance as he worked his way through his memories.
Suddenly, his mind flashed back to the Veronica's injury, and the hole left by the plasma grenade in her power armor. He opened his eyes and snapped his fingers, though it came out as more of a muffled "thwick" due to his gloves. "Ah! I've got it! A plasma charge with a containment field should do the trick. If I redouble the chemical action to create a melting seal… Yes. That oughta do it." He searched the contents of his bag and pulled out 6 plasma grenades, a bottlecap mine, some extra wire, a copper coil, and a circuit board he had salvaged from a sentry-bot he had disabled earlier. He lay out his materials in front of him and took a second to gather his thoughts. After reconsidering it, he decided that six plasma grenades would be too much and out two back into his bag, leaving only the 4.
He carefully measured out a small circle onto the sealed door, wrote down his calculations in a small journal he kept on his person, and went to work, with Dogmeat watching over him a couple of feet away, his large head resting in between his paws.
He started by carefully dismantling the grenades, taking great care not to trigger the internal plasma cores, as they were highly prone to instability and thus would end with Exeter and Dogmeat being green piles of goo on the floor if he was not thoroughly cautious in his endeavours. After extracting the cores, he took apart the bottlecap mine, leaving the connections inside, and replaced the explosives with the cores, setting them each core in a corner of the mine. After checking each connection to make sure it would not detonate prematurely, he took the circuit board and soldered additional connections to it, and attached a remote detonator, finishing by attaching it to the outside of the bottlecap mine, now a plasma bomb, and stood back to admire his work.
The bomb was now three times more powerful than a bottlecap mine, and was wired to cause the cores to have a meltdown, in the most literal sense. Rather than look for a detonation, Exeter now simply wanted the cores to overload and create so much heat that the device would simply melt through the door. He could have done this with thermite, if he had any, and creating a melting bomb with a mini nuke would have been much to dangerous; he would have little to no control over the runaway chemical reactions.
He whistled for Dogmeat, and the two hid behind a corner, out of an abundance of caution; Exeter looked back down to his Pip-Boy, and scrolled down to initiate the detonator program. He hovered his finger over the blinking red button, which was awaiting his feedback, and pushed it. The program flashed an "OK" and sent the signal to the bomb. For about 3 minutes, nothing happened, and Exeter began to wonder if he had done something wrong, or if perhaps the cores on the plasma grenades had been defective. He stood to leave his hiding place when the lunchbox began to glow an eerie green, and thick, poisonous looking smoke began to pour from between the door and the bomb. He moved back to his corner and watched as the device went to work. Ever so slowly, the lock on the door began to give way until the bright green bundle fell through the door and fell to the other side with a loud "SPLOCH".
Exeter did not move as more smoke continued to pour from the whole for another 10 minutes, until it stopped. He waited still, giving it another 5 minutes before he decided to move, creeping up to the door slowly. He peered through the hole with his mask, poking the "nose" of the mask through to allow it to analyze the quality of the air to see if it was safe to breathe for Dogmeat. It finished its analysis, signaling that it was now safe enough to breathe with minor risk.
He reached through the hole, felt for the door handle on the other side, and turned it with a satisfying "CLICK". The door opened smoothly on oiled hinges, gliding open and allowing Exeter passage though. He stood in the darkness, allowing victory to wash over him. It had taken him approximately 40 minutes to build the bomb, 10 minutes to fasten it securely to the door, 5 minutes for it to do its job, and another 20 minutes for the smoke to clear. Almost an hour and a half later, and he got through the door. He looked down to see that the plasma bomb had more than done its job, as there was now a basketball-sized hole in the ground, approximately 2 feet deep, with a faint green glow emanating from the bottom. As he moved forward, the radio in his headset activated, with Raul's muffled voice breaking the silence.
"Ey boss, found anything yet?"
"No. Yes. It took me a while to get through this door.
"A door? So what, you found the door to the consultant's office and it was being a bitch?"
"….No. The door to Hallway J-5. Looks like wood but feels like bunker steel. It ah, took me a while to get around it."
"Dayum boss, it's been almost 2 hours and that's it? This place is no joke, eh?"
Exeter's eye twitched in annoyance. "It's only been an hour and fifteen. Don't exaggerate. Anyway, cut the chatter, I'm about to venture inside. Contact me if something noteworthy happens."
"You got it boss. Raul out."
He sighed. That ghoul was a good companion, and a good friend, but damn if sometimes he got on his nerves. He grinned grimly. "What are friends for, huh."
He whistled for Dogmeat once more, and moved in, with the dog following closely by. He had since shouldered his PGM, opting instead to keep his .44 at the ready while his Pip-Boy illuminated the surroundings. It was a typical looking office with drab blue and yellow chevron wallpaper, and desks lined up against the walls, desk chairs strewn about haphazardly with various skeletons in outdated clothing lying about here and there, in the same position as when they ceased. All computers within were damaged beyond any use.
Exeter and Dogmeat looked around when a clatter caused them both to tense up. He wheeled around and pointed his gun in the direction of the sound; a solitary door stood at the end of the large office, with a dim green light shining inside. Exeter and Dogmeat exchanged glances, then slowly crept forward, keeping their eyes on the light, but never neglecting their peripherals. They took care to avoid hitting anything with their feet, doing what they could to keep as quiet as possible. Standing outside the door, Dogmeat took his position on one side while Exeter stood on the other. He took a deep breath, tightened his grip on his sidearm, and slowly twisted the door handle. A small squeak emitted from the polished brass knob as the locking mechanism moved for the first time in years; Exeter pushed the door open, a slow and irritating groan coming from the hinges echoed through the empty office. He clenched his jaw and could hear his heart pounding in his ears; if there was any element of surprise, it was definitely gone now. He swung the door open and pointed his gun straight ahead, towards the source of the light.
The office space was large, not quite as large as the space it was housed in, but large enough that it occupied a fourth of the total space by itself. It was too dark to see well, but Exeter could see no one inside. He could tell it was a rather posh office, with some kind of wood paneling adorning the walls and the floors, two dark sofas against the walls, opposite each other, and two leather backed chairs in front of a very large glass desk, which would have been almost entirely transparent, save for the thick veneer of dust that had settled upon it over the years. There was another couch, made of black leather right next to door Exeter had come in through, where a skeleton in feminine clothing was sitting in front of what looked like a movie camera. He studied the scene for a moment, but could make no sense of it, and moved on. He reached for the name plaque on the desk, wiped the dust from it and read the name inscribed upon it: S. Silverman.
"Looks like we found Mr. Silverman, Dogmeat." He looked down at his dog, who was sniffing around, paused and gave a large sneeze as some dust got into his nose. He chuckled, and looked around some more.
The only functional computer in the entire office space was right in front of him, the screen shining upon the pale skull of its former user, who was leaning back into a high backed chair, jaw missing. Exeter looked around, when he heard he clatter again; instantly, he pointed his gun at the source, which was revealed to be a small mouse, poking around the inside of a coffee mug on the desk, hitting pencils and pens as it did so. He sighed and holstered his side arm, then made his way over to the computer, stepping over a few filing cabinets that had fallen over and stumbling over a wastebasket. Finally, he stood before the computer, then turned to the skeletal writer, back to the monitor and once more to the corpse, before extending a finger and poking its head, causing it to slowly slide to the floor.
Dogmeat trotted over to the pile of bones and sniffed them intensely, before snorting once and trotting around the office, looking for other things to sniff.
"Heh. Despite it all, you're still a dog, after all." He mused. He looked down at the seat and dusted it off slightly before sitting and typing away at the computer, trying to figure out what the once-human pile of bones on the ground were doing before their passing. After scanning through several pages of generic paperwork, one entry in particular caught his eye:
QUANTUM TUNNELING PLATFORM EXPERIMENT RESULTS:
Trial 1: Failure. Trial 2 : Failure. Trial 3: Failure Trial 4 : Failure. Trial 5 : Failure.
Trial 6 : Failure. Trial 7 : Failure. Trial 8 : Failure. Trial 9 : Failure. Trial 10 : Limited Success. [See accompanying notes for further information]
Trial 10: We lost another volunteer today, but the usual bodily incineration did not occur. Instead the body was completely absent and in its place was a strange crystal. Further analysis indicates that the crystal, though quartz-like in nature, is composed of unknown minerals that cannot be quantified, and contains an energy of some kind. The energy inside cannot be identified, and thus far the crystal has resisted all forms of drilling and experimentation. It has been noted that the crystal will occasionally glow in varying frequencies when the former volunteer's name is mentioned. There is definitely a correlation here, but we have yet to come up with any concrete data to back it up. For now, we have stored the crystal in the containment field in research wing 7, so as to avoid potential mishaps; this means you Wilkins. The crystal is NOT for personal use, no matter how "groovy" it looks. This is a professional, scientific organization. Any further "mishaps" are subject to reprimand.
Trial 10 Addendum: We've had a breakthrough. The brass told us to attempt to use the crystal in some way that related to the teleportation ring. Using a combination of the plutonium on hand and the crystal, the portal began to react and for a brief moment, we could see^^*(*(^$&*^()&*%}:}
}{HYD^%*(I%356543456][\/64^%=-p}}{764n to smoke. We're &^$^%uite sure wh}:}{:?$&$ce to bre&%^wn, but the po%^&%ting a ne^&^$*(most of the disappointment away. We'll begin work on repairing it within the next week. [ERROR: DATA CORRUPTION]
Exeter leaned back into the chair, looking up towards the ceiling. "Hm. A strange crystal that came from the machine. Combining it with plutonium caused a reaction. But was it a good reaction?" He sighed and reached down to pet Dogmeat as he usually did when he was pondering something. The dog looked up, panting happily, as he usually did when receiving attention.
"Let's see what else we can discover from Mr. Silverman." He continued investigating Silverman's work, and eventually came across an encrypted file. "Oh goodie goodie. I love cracking me some encryptions." He took a cable from his Pip-Boy and inserted it into a free port on the computer. "And by me, I mean you." He said to his Pip-Boy. He pointed his wrist mounted computer's decryption program towards the file's location, activated the program, and sat back, letting the machine do its work. He didn't know at what point he fell asleep, but was woken up by the sound of the Pip-Boy's interface beeping, letting him know that the file had been successfully decrypted, and was awaiting his perusal. He stretched his limbs, yawned, and looked for Dogmeat, who he found was also dozing on the lap of the skeletal woman on the couch. "Oy."
Dogmeat made no indication that he had heard him.
"Oy!" He repeated, louder this time. The dog awoke with a start, yawned, letting his big droopy tongue dangle out, smacked his lips and looked sleepily at Exeter. "Show some respect. Let that woman be." The dog huffed, moved off her lap and, as he did so, the bones lost their integrity and fell completely apart, falling into a bundled heap of clothes on the floor. "Now look what you've done! Poor woman's fallen to pieces over your behaviour. Heh. Get it?" The dog stared back at Exeter, looking almost… disappointed, and leapt off the couch, coming up next to him. "Hmph. Tough crowd."
He looked back toward the computer and opened the now decrypted file. It was an unsent message with no recipient and, to Exeter's surprise, written completely in Chinese. "Huh. Normally these computers aren't even designed to handle foreign characters. They were afraid of people sending secret messages, such as these." He enabled the Pip-Boy's onboard translation software, and decoded the message.
"To the Glorious and most exalted Chairman,
Our plan goes smoothly. The Americans have no idea who I truly am, nor are they aware that you are almost in full possession of their teleportation schematics. I apologize for the slow progress, sir. Their damned firewall impedes my ability to send you the schematic as a whole piece, and have instead had to resort to encrypting it within images. Once you have the final image, enclosed, the technicians at our laboratories can unite all of the information stored within and decode the full schematics. With this technology, O Exalted One, we will finally be ahead of the American swine, and their so-called 'power armor' will be rendered obsolete. Despite the modifications I've made to their calculations, they continue to attempt to power and use the teleportation ring with, admittedly, fascinating results. I believe, sire, that the changes I made have accidentally bore fruit, as you will see in the enclosed trial results. What do you recommend, sir? Shall I make further alternations to their existing schematics to render their ring completely useless, or shall I allow them to continue and see what comes of it?
The surgeons who executed my facial change are truly ahead of their time, sir. I can see why you have the utmost in confidence, as the Americans could not distinguish me from the actual Silverman. They barely looked at my documentation before they gave me full access! Truly, American stupidity never ceases to astound me.
Admittedly, sir, I have had some difficulty with the scientists here. A couple have nearly discovered my subterfuge when they looked into my calculations and realized something was amiss. The problems are easily rectified, however, as I have the full authority of Vault-Tec to 'recommend' volunteers for the ring trials, under the guise of them being, of all things, Communists!
I look forward to the day you deem me worthy to conclude my operations here, so that I may rejoin my brothers and sisters in China.
For the Glory of the People's Party of China, and the Exalted and Glorious Chairman,
Tsu Fong
PS: Upon my return, I will introduce to you the only thing the American's have produced that are genuinely delicious, a pastry they call 'Twinkies'."
Exeter chortled and looked down at the bones on the floor. "Looks like you never got to go home, huh Fong?" He leaned back once more onto the chair. "That explains a hell of a lot. The Chinese infiltrated this operation and were actively sabotaging it. Good thing that Raul caught those phony measurements. Though I wonder, if this guy's fake ones actually did cause something, is there a possibility to make them work?" He pondered on that for a while, then reread his files on the crystal. "Wing 7. I think that's adjacent to this office." With a small grunt, he stood, gathered his belongings, and headed out the door. "C'mon Dogmeat. Let's fetch us a shiny thing." The dog rose from its haunches and followed, continuing to sniff around as he went.
After getting lost for another hour and circling back around 3 times, he finally located Wing 7. Thankfully, this time the doors were not locked. The inside of the research wing was rather generic, much like the offices; workstations, desks, computers and filing cabinets were strewn haphazardly about, creating a feeling of organized chaos. Most machinery inside was powered down or damaged, but otherwise in good condition, compared to the rest of the offices he had entered, anyway. He scanned along the numerous shelves and cabinets, but had no luck in locating the crystal he was interested in. Sure, he found the occasional quartz and the like, but none that matched the description. He sat in a nearby chair to collect his thoughts.
"Containment field. Energy source. Should be obvious to find but no such luck. Where else would there be.. Hm." He stood again and started scanning the walls and roof, shining his light along until he found what he was looking for: wires and piping. Following the wiring for a good five minutes, he eventually came to a dead end at one of the walls. He felt around, trying to see if there was some hidden mechanism or pressure switch, though he found nothing but the same dreary, barren walls and after ten minutes, gave up. Sighing, he sat on the edge of a desk, fuming. "Damn it. That always works in the movies. Why isn't there.." He looked up and noticed a door at the far end, clearly titled: "CONTAINMENT FIELD. DANGER. KEEP OUT." Grumbling, he stood and walked to the door.