Chapter Summary: Beth has her first meeting with Mr. House, which causes quite the stir on the Strip.
Chapter 6: In the Merry Old Land of Oz
Inside the Strip's north gate, Beth took in the scene as the sounds of Dean Martin blared in her ears from unseen speakers. Nothing had changed since the last time she was here several months ago: scantily clad prostitutes dancing on the sidewalk in front of the Gomorrah, NCR soldiers drunkenly staggering down the street, securitrons keeping everything civil.
What she did not expect was to be stopped by one of the securitrons just inside the gate. "Howdy, pardner!" it greeted her with its artificial folksy drawl. "Glad to see you made it in one piece. Welcome to New Vegas!"
"Victor? What are you doing here?" she asked. He seemed to be the same robot who had pulled her from the grave in Goodsprings.
"Consider me your welcome wagon! The big boss of New Vegas, Mr. House, is real interested in makin' your acquaintance. Just follow me to the Lucky 38 and I'll send ya right up."
She looked at him skeptically. "Tell Mr. House I might stop by. I have some pressing business to attend to." She was anxious to get to The Tops before Benny got word that she was alive and on the Strip. If he listened to the radio, he might have already gotten tipped off.
"The boss don't extend invites to just anyone. If I was you, I wouldn't dawdle, missy." Victor turned and wheeled to the entrance of the Lucky 38.
"Friend of yours?" Boone asked.
"Sort of. He's the one who dug me out of the grave in Goodsprings and took me to Doc Mitchell. Didn't stop Benny from shooting me, though," she grumbled.
"And now a face-to-face meeting with Mr. House?" Boone commented, sounding subtly impressed. "He won't even meet with President Kimball,"
This made her pause. With all her focus on Benny, she hadn't really considered that there could be larger implications to her mission. She rubbed her forehead, pushing back her headache as best she could. "What do you think he wants?"
"Who knows?" He shrugged. "He sure made it sound urgent, though."
"He did, didn't he." Mr. House was an almost mythic figure in New Vegas, never seen by a living soul, as far as anyone knew. Now a random courier steps out of the Wastes and is summoned by the Wizard personally. "Does this make me Dorothy?" she wondered to herself, remembering an old pre-war movie she saw as a kid. Looking at Boone, she thought, "Does that make him the Scarecrow or the Tin Man?"
"Guess we should go in and find out," she said. "Maybe he knows something about Benny."
At the door to the Lucky 38, the cowboy robot stopped them again. "Sorry, pardner. The boss don't just let any ole cowpoke in to see him. Your buddy's gonna have to stay here."
She glanced apprehensively at Boone. "Wait here."
"You sure?" he asked, eyeing the robot suspiciously.
"Yeah. I'll be fine. Don't worry." She handed him her pack, but kept her weapon holstered at her side. It wouldn't be any match against a securitron, she knew, but it still made her feel somewhat at ease. Taking a deep breath, she proceeded through the large red double doors.
Unexpectedly, the Lucky 38 was not dark and empty inside. The casino floor shone with bright lights as the blackjack tables and dormant slot machines awaited their absent gamblers. The check-in desk still had papers on the counter and the bar on the mezzanine looked fully stocked. Gaudy and worn carpet covered the floor. It had everything any other casino would have. Except people. The state of it gave the impression it was shut down suddenly, likely when the bombs fell.
The dusty and stale air felt cool on her skin. She wondered if they always air conditioned the uninhabited building or if it was done for her benefit. Two securitrons stood guard near the entrance and one stood by the elevator with Victor's face on its screen. Either there was more than one Victor or he could transfer himself to whichever securitron he wanted.
She reached into her back pocket and pulled out a small metal box. Fishing two of the little red pills out of it, she popped them in her mouth and put the box away. As the mentats dissolved under her tongue, she felt the clearing effects on her mind, almost making her feel normal, aside from the still painful headache. While she had avoided taking them previously, since she was aware that mixing chems was a decidedly bad idea, this was a special circumstance. The plan had been to take them when she she got to Benny, but they seemed more necessary now.
Tucking her sunglasses into her shirt collar, the Courier did her best to compose herself on the ride up the elevator and to prepare for what would come next. When the doors reopened, however, she found those preparations lacking. Would she be meeting an actual man or another securitron? Some kind of artificial intelligence? A ghoul perhaps? Who else could survive for so long?
The Penthouse gleamed clean and white with its polished marble floor. Sunlight shone in bright through the windows, which gave a clear unobstructed view of the mountains surrounding the desert valley. The lavish furnishings looked new and unused. Curtains separating rooms were the only things that seemed at all tattered, likely from being caught on the robots over the years.
Another securitron stood directly in front of the elevator. This one's screen showed the face of a woman with sultry eyes and a flower in her hair.
Feeling uncomfortably under-dressed in her dirty jeans and dusty boots, Beth took off her hat and combed her fingers through her dark, sweaty hair.
To her left through the doorway and down an open staircase hummed a console. A large screen showed the static image of a middle-aged man with a mustache. There were three more securitrons in view, as well. Did they always stand guard or was this a unique show of force?
This all brought to mind her meeting with President Eden all those years ago back in the Capital Wasteland. At least this time, she hadn't had to fight her way here. Mr. House had total control of his soldiers and she could be confident she was safe. If he had wanted her dead, Victor would have left her in that grave.
Slowly, she made her way down the stairs, her footsteps echoing in the nearly silent room. "Hello?" she asked cautiously as she approached the console.
"Ms. Evans. This meeting has been a long time coming, hasn't it?" said the speakers on either side of the screen. The voice was deep and business-like, but subtly warm and friendly.
She looked at the screen, puzzled. "If you say so. Nice to meet you, too, Mr. House," she said hesitantly.
"I have to ask, now that you've reached your destination, what do you make of what you see?"
Was he just extending pleasantries or did he actually want to hear her opinion? "Very nice. I've never seen anything like it," she replied honestly, looking around the room. Having been in a few luxurious places before, they all paled in comparison to the Lucky 38's penthouse.
Suddenly, the screen went blank and flashed a "Connection Lost..." message. Then, it flickered and the face was back again.
"Vegas always was unique, although it now pales in comparison to the city's glitz and glamour prior to the Great War. Yet, I managed to preserve its spirit." His voice glowed with pride. "Or were you referring to the Lucky 38? While she has worn a bit over the years, her impressive tower is still a shining beacon, able to be seen for miles. As it was intended."
"Why the VIP treatment? I'm just a courier." From what Boone had said, even the higher-ups in the NCR had never set foot in here, never spoken to Mr. House directly. What was so important that he had to see her face-to-face? So to speak.
"Oh, please. I cannot abide false modesty. You've been playing a high-stakes game since you came out of the ground. Don't be afraid to admit it." She could almost hear a smile in the way he said the last sentence.
She knew she had been taking more risks since being pulled out of that grave. The searing throb in her head had given her a sense of urgency along with her desire for revenge. Is that what impressed him enough that he had to meet with her?
Overall, his manner was very interesting, very human, which put her more at ease. If "The Man Behind the Curtain" was just a man, or even a ghoul, she could work with that. However, she needed to know for sure? "Who are you exactly, Mr. House? I mean, I know who you are, but..."
"You want to know what I am."
She nodded. "Yes. If you are the actual Robert House, you must be well over 200 years old. Unless you're a mutant or a ghoul, that's impossible."
"I assure you, I am as human as you are. My knowledge of the science of longevity would fill several textbooks. Perhaps at another time, we can discuss it further."
That was unlikely, she knew. "Let's get down to business, then," she replied with confidence.
"Excellent. The bottom line is that one of my employees has stolen something extraordinarily valuable from me, the package you were hired to deliver. The Platinum Chip. I want it retrieved."
"Benny is your employee?" That she had not expected.
"Yes, as all of the Three Families are. In fact, before his recent betrayal, I had intended to make him my protege. Fortunately, you've come along as a more than suitable replacement." He sounded oddly pleased with that.
Again, she was confused. "Why do you need a 'protege'? And what makes you think I'd want the job?"
"I need a capable human agent to carry out specific...tasks that my securitrons are incapable of completing. As for why you would be interested, the rewards are quite immense. To start, bring me the Platinum Chip and I will pay you four times the delivery bonus stipulated in the contract. I will also grant you full use of the Presidential Suite for as long as you'd like."
"What about Benny?"
"Do with him what you will. He is of no further use to me."
"Alright." At least he wasn't going to try to get in the way of her revenge—not that she would have let that matter.
"Keep in mind that he has personal bodyguards by his side at all times, except when in his suite on the thirteenth floor of the Tops."
"I'll figure something out."
"I have no doubt you will."
Boone sat on the steps in the shade outside the Lucky 38 and looked out over the Strip. He hadn't been back here since before he'd picked up his discharge papers and moved to Novac. It seemed like a lifetime ago. Thinking back, it almost felt like it had all happened to someone else, like he watched it 2nd hand.
From here, he could see the spot in front of the Tops where Carla had first approached him almost two years ago. She had been right: he had been lost. She had never really found him, though-not who he really was, anyway. It was a small solace to know that she died still believing he was a good and honorable man.
He sighed and rubbed his moistening eyes underneath his aviators.
"Nice day we're havin'," the cowboy securitron said, breaking Boone out of his thoughts.
Without looking back at him, he grunted in response. It was barely mid-morning and it was already clear that it was going to be an exceedingly hot day for October. Days like these reminded him of one of the few things he missed about Rock Bay: the weather. He had gotten used to the heat during his time in the army, but when given the choice, he still volunteered for the night shift in Novac to avoid the heat.
There was a clicking sound behind him and he looked to see if it was Beth coming out, but it must have just been Victor moving around.
Once again, he asked himself the same question he'd wondered several times over their time traveling together: "Who the hell was this courier?" She seemed to know people all over the Mojave, which made some sense for someone who traveled around a lot. But now Mr. House not only let her into the Lucky 38, he invited her. He had insisted, even. It was astonishing. The NCR had been trying for years to get a face-to-face meeting with Mr. House. All their requests reportedly were either refused or ignored, usually the latter. Communications and negotiations were handled either through the securitrons or text correspondence. Not one was ever allowed inside the Lucky 38. People tried, but none ever even managed to so much as lay a hand on the door.
This courier was certainly a strange and interesting person. His curiosity was piqued, but after their previous clashes, he wasn't going to ask personal questions.
All this made him wonder why he was the one she chose to drag along on her quest for vengeance. Maybe she thought he looked lost, too.
Beth stepped outside in to the bright mid-morning sun and put her sunglasses back on. She walked over to Boone who was waiting on the steps nearby and said, "Let's get going."
He stood up and asked, "What'd he say?"
"He doesn't care what happens to Benny. The Chip is all he cares about. Whatever that thing is, it must be really important."
"What's our next move?"
Blinking hard behind her dark shades, trying to push back the persistent pain above her eyes, she scoffed, "I don't care about House's money or his Chip. If I get it back, he can have it. I just want to dispatch Benny and be done with it."
Still, a voice in the back of her mind told her it wouldn't be that easy. As House had said, they were playing at high-stakes here. How likely was it that she could just throw her own chips down, hit a jackpot, cash out, and walk away? Maybe this hand needed to be played closer to the chest. If she went in, guns blazing, she'd likely find herself shot by more than two bullets by Benny and his thugs. What's more, she'd get Boone killed along with her. No, this would have to be a more careful hand. Maybe she could get Benny alone by convincing him that was in his best interest to talk things out. If it didn't work, a more direct approach was still an option.
Beth started heading for the Tops, Boone in tow, when she noticed everyone on the street was looking at her and remarking on her visit to the Lucky 38. She felt her cheeks flush at the unwanted attention. Before she could reach the gate to the middle section of the Strip, a young NCR trooper ran up to her, a bit out of breath. "Excuse me, ma'am! I have a message for you. From ambassador Crocker. Very important. Here you go." He handed her a note and then ran back the way he came.
"What does it say?" Boone asked, craning his neck to see the paper in her hand.
She opened it and looked it over. "Mostly fluff about how great the NCR is, but the gist is that he wants to see me." Giving an exasperated sigh, she put the note in her pocket. "I really don't have time for this."
"I know you didn't ask my opinion, but Crocker might have information you could use."
She considered his point. "Yeah, you might be right, but going inside the Lucky 38 drew a lot of attention. I can't risk Benny getting word that I'm alive and on the Strip. I need to go to The Tops first."