Chapter Summary: At the Old Mormon Fort, Arcade is the target of some unexpected and unwanted attention.

Beth, Boone, and Veronica explore Vault 22 in the hopes of finding tech that will convince the Brotherhood's elder of a new course for the Mojave chapter.

Chapter 32: No Moon at All

For the first few days after being unceremoniously dismissed from the Lucky 38, Arcade assumed every approaching footstep was the NCR coming to arrest him or Julie with a guard ready to eject him from the Fort. That didn't happen. He examined the faces of his colleagues for signs of suspicion, but saw only friendly, relaxed expressions. He dissected the meaning of every word spoken to him and eavesdropped on conversations. No one so much as uttered the word "Enclave."

He expected the fragile life he had built to come crashing down around him, but it didn't. On the contrary, he was treated by many as though he'd been touched by something wonderful, even holy: the Courier.

"Excuse me, doctor?" a woman greeted him in a soft, timid voice from the doorway of his tent.

"Yes, can I help you?" Arcade answered, turning away from the book he was unsuccessfully trying to focus on. Even for a Wastelander, she was thin with sunken cheeks and her dark skin was weathered, making her look much older than she probably was. The canvas pants she wore were too long, so they bunched at the ankles, and her t-shirt was over-sized for her small frame. A combat knife was sheathed at her hip. From her downcast eyes and shaven hair, he guessed she was an escaped Legion slave.

"Are you the doctor who travels with the Courier?"

A pang of sadness hit him in the chest at Beth's mention. "Yes, I suppose I was. Why?" He tried to keep his voice gentle, despite his poor mood. This woman had been through enough bad experiences with men, and he wasn't going to add to them. The way she worried her hands and averted her gaze, he could tell she was uncomfortable talking to him.

"I just...I was wondering if you could speak to her for me."

"Oh?"

"I was at Fortification Hill when she liberated it. She freed us and said that if we needed help, we should go to the Followers in Freeside. I wanted to thank her...for what it's worth. I didn't think escape would ever be possible." There was a swell of emotion in her voice. "It was a miracle."

Arcade was taken aback. He knew Beth and Craig had stormed the Legion's fort to assassinate Caesar, but she hadn't mentioned freeing the slaves there. Maybe it went without saying, since slavery was largely synonymous with the Legion. "What is your name?"

"Siri—no," She winced and gritted her teeth. "Lana. My name is Lana," she corrected with increased strength, only now looking him in the eye.

"Well, Lana, as much as I would like to pass along your gratitude, I don't know when I'll be seeing her again...if ever. I'm sorry," he said genuinely, feeling remorseful in more ways than he could express.

"I understand. Thank you for your time, though." She turned to walk away.

Then he had a thought. "If you want to write to her, I could help you...if you need help writing."

She turned back, straightening her posture. "I appreciate your kind offer, but I actually was training to be a doctor back in New Mexico before my home was overtaken by the Legion."

"Oh, forgive me, I shouldn't have assumed..." In her place, he would have been rather offended at such an assumption.

"No, it's alright. Literacy isn't very common among Legion slaves, especially women."

He nodded. "Anyway, if you did want to write to her, give the letter to one of the robots at the gate to the Strip. I'm quite sure she will get it. I know it would mean a lot to her to hear from you and to know that you're safe."

"I will, thank you."

"And if you wanted to continue your education," he added, "we, the Followers, can help you with that."

"Yes, Julie said that someone who is so used to working under...less than ideal conditions with limited resources would be a perfect addition to the Followers." She gave a reserved smile.

"I couldn't agree more. If nothing else, ipsa scientia potestas est." He said it without thinking until she took a step back from him. "Oh, dear, I'm sorry." After Craig's reaction to is proficiency with Latin, he'd been cautious not to let it slip out in front of him, but being out of his company, he'd let his guard down in that regard.

She shook her head, looking more concerned than suspicious. "No, it's alright. I just didn't expect it. Were...were you a slave, too?"

It was a surprising question. "No, I have had mercifully little direct contact with the Legion. I mostly learned Latin through books and holotapes," he answered. "If I may ask, why did you assume I was a former slave, rather than a soldier?"

"Because you are a friend of the Courier," she said, as though it were obvious. "She wouldn't befriend an enemy soldier."

The words bit at his gut. "Indeed she wouldn't."

To his increasing dismay, his conversation with Lana wasn't the only encounter of its type: his association with "the Courier" caused several people to seek him out in order to kiss his proverbial ring and ask him to convey a message. A woman with her two teen-aged children approached him the following day, saying that a "blood-spattered angel" had saved them from Legion slavers at Cottonwood Cove after wiping out the camp. From the Rangers, she learned that their rescuer had been the Courier. The woman was unable to hold back tears when she shook Arcade's hand, as though he'd had some role in their liberation.

Later that day, he found Troike busy scrubbing pots in the mess tent. After fleeing the Omertas, he had come to the Followers to get clean, at Beth's suggestion. Even after only a few days of Fixer treatment, he already looked like a new man. He too wanted to pass on his thanks to her.

Anna was also doing as well as one could expect, considering all she had been through. The group and one-on-one therapy with Dr. Usanagi was helping, she said. She timidly expressed her gratitude to him for the part he had played in her rescue and subsequent recovery, as well as to ask when he expected Craig and Beth to be back. He said he didn't know.

Even those whom Beth hadn't directly saved asked him for information. What was she like? Did she really wipe out the Legion's fort and assassinate Caesar? How did she do it? Was she the same courier who survived being shot in the head they'd heard about on the radio? Some asked if she traveled with a squad of NCR bodyguards. Others asked if she was really a lone traveler.

Arcade tried to answer their questions, but he often found himself uncharacteristically lost for words. Did they want to hear of a good-hearted, but mostly ordinary woman thrust into extraordinary circumstances? No, they wanted to hear a mythic legend of the Hero of the Wastes. He was ill-equipped and unwilling to oblige by saying anything that wasn't true. Having never been one for storytelling or embellishing, his answers came out as boring and factual, even to his own ears. When they asked what she looked like, he knew they wanted a lavish description when he could only manage the most clinical details. He didn't know how to give much more than that. Whatever he said seemed to prove unsatisfactory.

"I'm a doctor, not a biographer!" he snapped during one particularly pushy encounter, then mumbled an apology before walking away.

Arcade was acutely aware of their disappointment at his lack of excitement and awe. They didn't understand that his lack of reverence wasn't due to lack of admiration, but to personal familiarity. Nor could they see that his his muted demeanor was due to profound sadness and worry. To them, she was a legend. To him, she was a dear friend who had cast him out as an enemy. Rather than making him feel like he was part of something greater, all the attention just made him feel like more of a fraud.

He also knew Beth wouldn't appreciate him speaking about her at all, let alone being treated as her representative. The sound of the cup shattering against the wall and her screaming at him to get out echoed fresh in his ears. He wasn't even sure he could cross the New Vegas gates now-not that he would try.

Now he was back to living his exiled existence. Despite being in the bustling Fort full of people, he had never felt more alone. His tent used to be his private refuge, but now the small, dusty place was suffocating. Paging through his research notes, it all seemed so fruitless, so pointless. He missed being out in the Wastes, doing things that mattered. It reminded him of why he had joined the Followers.

He also missed Beth and their unique kinship. Even if they didn't always agree, they shared most of the same values. Together, they were working toward a better future for the people of the Mojave. Now, she and Craig were out there without him.

He'd enjoyed watching her and Craig's relationship grow from budding friendship to love. It had given him hope: if those two had found each other, maybe there was someone out there for him, too. Unfortunately, most of that hope was dashed.

As the target of so much associated affection himself, Arcade found it odd that Beth's admirers rarely mentioned Craig, and when they did, it was never by name. He was always simply "her bodyguard," "her sniper," or "her partner." Although, knowing the taciturn man, he probably preferred it that way, sticking to the shadows to let Beth do all the talking and take all the glory. Not that she wanted any glory. At this point, however, she had it whether she wanted it or not.

It was all starting to remind him of how people in the NCR had spoken of the Chosen One when Arcade was growing up after fleeing Navarro. The man had been their legend, their champion against the evil Enclave. Anytime the subject had been brought up in school, Arcade had needed to bite his tongue to keep from giving himself away. To him and his family, the Chosen One hadn't been a hero. He had been the villain who destroyed the Oil Rig, murdering so many of their family members and friends. For the rest of her life, Arcade's mother hadn't been able to talk about it without sobbing. Had his parents and the others not moved to Navarro a couple of years before, they would have been killed, as well, and he never would have been born. The Chosen One had been a figure of his nightmares well into his teenage years.

Of course, now he knew the full story. The horror of what President Richardson had planned to do with the FEV was common knowledge, as was the fate of Vault 13. Arcade also knew what the Enclave had done to the Chosen One's tribe at Arroyo.

Although no one ever said so, he'd long suspected his father and the rest of the Devil's Brigade squad had been part of that particular atrocity. A look had washed over Eb Johnson's face when it was mentioned once in passing, like he'd been there. He was as terrible a liar as Arcade himself was. Maybe worse. He wore his conscience on his sleeve like a black armband. Maybe that was why he hid away in his cave, rarely interacting with anyone. Even though Arcade largely kept to himself, he didn't want to become a hermit and shun the world. Solitude was fine in measured doses, but not a foundation for an entire life.

Besides, Arcade hadn't truly been a part of it himself. It was his family legacy, yes, but he was never a participant. What he felt was shame, not guilt.

Maybe Beth would have understood all that if he hadn't chosen to defend them when and how he did. That had set her off the most.

Despite knowing the truth about the Enclave, it was still difficult for him to reconcile it all with what he knew about his parents and the people he considered his extended family. He couldn't believe in his heart that they were evil people, despite them being complicit in many terrible things. Even Orion Moreno, who remained devoted to his upbringing and training, still had decency in him. As much as Arcade was disappointed that the man was still so unwaveringly loyal to the Enclave, he had been just as loyal to Arcade and his mother. They wouldn't have survived fleeing Navarro if it hadn't been for Moreno.

Arcade wondered again what the Enclave had done to Beth. As a whole, they were capable of almost anything. At least he knew that those he considered family hadn't been a part of whatever had happened to her. It was a small comfort, but he needed something to hold on to.

More than anything, he wanted to know that Beth was alright. If something did happen to her, he'd hear eventually, considering how news of the beloved Courier flowed through the Fort. The way she was going, diving head-first into the Wasteland's dangers, it was very possible she would be captured or killed. If that happened, he knew he'd be utterly devastated and wracked with guilt that he hadn't been there.

Deciding to take some of his own advice, he sat down and started to write.

"Wow, look at that," Beth gasped before Boone rounded the corner behind her. When he did, he was also amazed, but said nothing. Inside the narrow passage was a garden, lush with greenery. A carpet of grass and other thriving plants covered the sandy ground. Ferns seemed to spring right out of the stones. Vines twisted up the rock walls, spreading beyond the canyon and onto the hillside. Mushrooms as big as a person's head grew in between. Despite the season, colorful flowers bloomed, and the trees still had bright green leaves.

Back when he was growing up in the NCR, his grandma had taken great pride in her flowers and vegetables, but this went well beyond that. Looking closer at these plants, most were unlike anything he'd ever seen before, not even in her pre-war gardening books. For something so natural and beautiful, it was decidedly unnatural in an unsettling way. Overgrown, unplanned, and completely unmaintained, it looked alien, like a creature taking over the land.

"Strange. It's almost...tropical," Beth commented as she bent down to examine a bright purple flower.

Yes, that was the word: tropical. There was even a noticeable increase in the air's moisture compared to the rest of the dry desert. There had to be a water source nearby that they couldn't see.

Veronica pushed aside vines growing over a crudely painted wooden sign and read it aloud: "'Stay out! The plants kill!'"

"There must be poisonous plants in there," Beth said. "We'd better be careful going in. If anyone feels strange or sees anything out of the ordinary, say something, okay?"

Boone and Veronica nodded.

Beth reached into her bag and handed them a few Rad-X tablets. "There might be radiation, so we'd better take these to be on the safe side."

They nodded again and took the tablets as instructed.

The vault door was rusted and overgrown with vegetation, but pried open just enough for them to squeeze through. They experimentally inhaled the humid air as they entered. It smelled like a mix of rusted metal and damp grass with a dusty floral tinge. Since the underground space would be too small to use his rifle effectively, Boone readied his pistol. As he scanned the room for dangers, Veronica sneezed loudly, startling him and making him turn to glare at her.

Meeting his eyes, she sniffed and mumbled, "Sorry."

He grunted and ignored Beth's sharp glare as he walked deeper into the vault.

As much as Beth seemed to like Veronica, the scribe got on his nerves. She was actually a lot like he had expected Beth to be when he first met her: too talkative, unnecessarily cheerful, and prone to high pitched screams and squeals that cut through his skull like a vibroblade. He had been wrong about his first impression of Beth, and he was eternally grateful for that, but so far, his opinion of the annoying scribe hadn't changed. She was a decent fighter, but her hand-to-hand ("punching") style of combat wasn't really compatible with his, since she frequently got in his way. In close-quarters like this, he expected that would be even worse.

When his demeanor did soften toward her, Veronica had a particular talent for saying something to irritate him once again. She'd ask him something too personal. She'd call him "big guy," which he hated. If he would string more than three words together, she'd say something like, "He speaks!" Even small things that didn't bother him much with Beth, like laughing loudly or snoring, would set his teeth on edge with Veronica.

Although his hatred was mostly focused on the Legion, maybe some anti-Brotherhood sentiment was leaking into his assessment of Veronica. He hadn't really thought much about them over the last decade, but he'd grown up being told that they were the enemy of the NCR. He'd never actually met any members of the Brotherhood, to his knowledge, up until now. Beth's admission that she had fought alongside them and even been invited into their ranks hadn't changed his feelings about her at all. If she had been a member, or still was, he didn't think it would change things. Maybe it really was just Veronica.

While he did feel a little bad for being so impatient with her, he had never been good at faking being nice. At least she had stopped trying to make conversation with him. Being honest with himself, she wasn't actually that annoying. Part of him knew that he was mostly taking things out on her because he couldn't address the real source of his frustration: Beth.

She tried to hide it, but he could see the sadness in Beth's pinched, down-turned mouth and deep, silent sighs. Her eyes were slightly red and puffy, ready to cry if she let her guard down. When she noticed someone looking, she'd suddenly brighten and pretend nothing was wrong. He'd never had the energy or self-control to do that in his darkest times, which was why he had avoided people. She had been the one to bring him out of so much of that-it ate at him that he couldn't do the same for her.

He wasn't sure how much of it was about their fight and how much was about Arcade. Regardless, Boone knew a lot her old wounds had been opened up. He had watched for moments over the last few days for an opportunity to talk to her, but she avoided it. She stuck close to Veronica, where he knew that she knew he wouldn't approach her with more than a bare and necessary sentence or two. It was starting to become clear that he might have to wait until they were back in Vegas before they would be able to fix things between them, which was intensely aggravating.

Further into the vault's entrance, they came to an elevator. Boone pressed the call button a couple of times, but nothing happened. Turning, he saw a sign above a door. "Stairs this way," he said.

"Hold on, big guy," Veronica piped up, "let me look at it." Pulling out some kind of multi-tool from her pocket, she popped off the elevator panel. "Just give me a sec."

"Is it getting power?" Beth asked, peering at the wiring from behind the scribe's shoulder. "The lights out here are working, so the vault's reactor must still be operational."

"Looks like some of the vines got in here and caused a short."

"Can you fix it or by-pass it?"

"I think so. We need to cut these vines away first."

Beth pulled out her small pocket knife. "I got it."

Boone stood by as the two women worked on repairing the elevator, feeling rather useless. He could dismantle a rifle with his eyes closed, but electronics were beyond his expertise. He was used to Beth being able to fill in the gaps in his skill set, but having someone else along that seemed to have so much in common with her made him a little jealous. For some reason, he hadn't felt that way when Arcade had traveled with them.

A few minutes later, the elevator hummed to life and Veronica replaced the panel with a satisfied grin on her face. Boone thought about saying, "Good job," but didn't. Instead, he waited for the elevator doors to open and silently followed the two women inside.

On the deeper level, growing out of flowerbeds on the metal floor were more plants, similar to the ones growing outside. The beds were also not planned, as they had no boarders and grew in the middle of walkways. Vines climbed up the walls and into the cracks of the metal, merging to the point where it was hard to see in places where one ended and the other began.

"So strange," Beth marveled. "We're pretty far underground, but it doesn't seem like the lack of sunlight or moisture matters to these plants, at all."

As they continued walking, a rustling sound interrupted the eerie silence. The companions froze.

"What was that?" hissed Veronica, her eyes wide.

Firmly holding his gun, Boone scanned the area and caught movement out of the corner of his eye in one of the patches of vegetation. Unsure of what he saw, he nudged Beth and pointed. As he did, a green, man-like creature charged on all fours out from the cover of the plants. Boone fired two quick shots to the creature's head, sending a sickly green spray out the other side and it collapsed onto the metal floor.

"Holy shit!" the scribe said, holding a hand to her chest. "I think I figured out what that sign outside meant."

Boone stepped toward it, giving it a nudge with his boot. The creature's green, bumpy skin looked like the mossy bark of a tree, and a spiky growth protruded from its back. "The hell is it?"

Beth bent down and visually examined it with the calm air of a doctor looking over a patient. "From the looks of it, it used to be human. It isn't anymore," she said flatly. "Probably some kind of infection."
"Like FEV?"

"No, that's a virus. This looks like...fungus." She stood, pursing her lips thoughtfully.

"You've seen this before?"

"Not exactly, but close. We need to keep moving. There's likely to be more, so keep your eyes open and don't let them get too close. At least we know what to look out for."

Strangely, she didn't seem as unnerved by the situation as he and Veronica did. She actually seemed rather relaxed, especially compared to how she'd been since they'd left the Lucky 38. On the one hand, it was nice to see her not as tense, but on the other, he didn't understand how she could be so calm in their current surroundings. He worried she would let her guard down.

Before he could, Veronica asked, "Doesn't all this freak you out?"

"Not really," Beth said with a shrug. "I've been in a lot of vaults and, trust me, I've seen worse."

"Worse than people turned into murderous plants?!"

"Yes. Besides, it's actually kind of pretty in here. Where else have you seen greenery like this? Look at all the flowers."

"I don't know how you can enjoy any of it with those things jumping out at you."

"Relax, Veronica. Boone's an excellent shot. And if anything gets too close to you, you can always punch it."

"I guess. I just hate being startled, is all."

Further on, they found the lab. Beth immediately went to a computer terminal and started typing. "Someone's been here recently. These logs are from just a couple days ago."

"Who?" Veronica asked, approaching to look over her shoulder.

"A scientist from the NCR. Someone named Keely." She turned to Boone. "Ever heard of them?"

He shook his head. "Not really my circle."

She turned back to the terminal. "Hm...it looks like the NCR has taken an increasing interest in this place lately."
"Makes sense," Veronica said. "If something is making these plants able to grow here, the potential for agriculture and geoengineering is enormous."

"Or even terraforming."

Veronica hummed in agreement.

Beyond agriculture, Boone had no idea what they were talking about, but didn't want to ask and look stupid in front of the scribe. It didn't really matter if he understood, anyway.

"Do you know why Elijah would be interested in this, though?" Beth asked.

"I don't know," Veronica answered. "Normally, the Brotherhood wouldn't pursue something like this, since it's not a weapon. But Elijah had a lot of ideas and interests that were at odds with the Council. Maybe he saw the potential in helping the Brotherhood become more self-sufficient. I just hope McNamara sees the value and doesn't just stick his head back in the sand." She sighed wistfully. "Does the terminal say anything else?"

"Only that Keely wasn't the only scientist from the NCR to enter over the last few months, but, according to this, none have come back."

"We should look for survivors, then," Boone said, tired of just standing there.

She nodded, switching off the terminal. "Right, let's keep moving."

The vault was a maze of corridors and doorways. Boone was completely lost, having no way to navigate underground, so he just followed Beth, who somehow seemed to know where she was going with only occasional glances at her Pip-Boy.

As they went, they encountered more of the creatures, as well as some giant mantises and some large rooted plants with spiky mouths that spit at them. "Don't let the green stuff hit you and don't get to close!" Beth she shouted as she dodged the plant's attack. "Aim inside the mouth!" It was as though she'd encountered them before. Boone made a mental note to ask about that later.

After hours of making their way through the vault, they finally found the main research terminal with the data they were looking for. Beth and Veronica were pleased, but Boone was too tired and sticky with plant guts to care much.

They still hadn't found any of the NCR scientists. Beth said it was possible that some of them had changed into the plant creatures, but that such a change wouldn't happen over the course of just a couple of days, so Keely might still be here. Even though they were exhausted, they all agreed to keep looking.

Further on, they came to a spot where the vault opened up into a passage in the earth, which lead to a large cavern. Looking up at the ceiling several stories above his head, Boone became fully aware of how deep underground they really were. Even in the large space, he was beginning to feel claustrophobic at the thought. He was about to suggest that they turn back when their presence woke more of the spitting plants.

"Look out!" he shouted as he pulled Beth behind a rock pillar and out of the path of the plant's projectile.

As usual, Veronica charged at one of the plants, attempting to avoid its attack, but not really succeeding. Since she was blocking Boone's line of sight, he wasn't able to help her with that one, so he took aim at another plant, shooting it just as it opened its large mouth. Beth took out three approaching mantises before they got too close.

When all the creatures were taken care of, Veronica's robes were soaked with green goo and her shoulder was bleeding. She wiped her face with the inside of her collar, her expression sour.

"I told you not to get too close to those things," Beth scolded, handing her a stimpak.

"I thought I could dodge it," Veronica replied. "Ugh, I feel sick."

"Hello?" a raspy voice called out. "Who's there?"

"Are you Keely?" Beth replied in a raised voice.

"Yes!" When a ghoul emerged from around a corner, Boone was momentarily startled. "Did the NCR send you to find me?" she asked.

"No, we saw your recent log entries on the vault's computer system and thought you might still be here." She appeared completely unphased by the scientist's appearance.

Glancing at Veronica, she was frowning with a wrinkled nose, but that could have been due to her fight with the plant. Boone had told Beth he didn't have a problem with ghouls, and that was true, but he also hadn't had much close contact with them. He didn't want to accidentally say the wrong thing and piss anyone off, so he decided to do what came naturally: keep his mouth shut.

Keely led them back into the vault to the elevator where she commented approvingly on the quality of the repair job. Back in the lab, the three women discussed what to do about some spores or something in the vault. Boone wasn't really listening. Most of it was either over his head or didn't interest him. In the meantime, he'd stand guard and wait, hoping they would leave soon.

"Boone? Hello?" Beth said, breaking him out of his thoughts.

He turned around quickly. "Yeah. What is it?"

"We need to head back to the fifth level and take care of the spores."

"Spores?"

"Yes, the spores that are turning people into plant creatures."

"How do we do that?"

The ghoul sighed, as though annoyed that he hadn't been paying attention.

"We need to set off an explosion," Beth told him patiently and walked to the door, waving him to follow. "Come on."

"I'll wait here," Veronica said. "I'm still feeling funny. I think I need to sit and take some Rad-Away."

On the way, Boone wanted to try to talk to Beth, but if they were going to be working with explosives, this was not the time for a deep, emotional discussion. Still, he was glad to have some time alone with her for the first time since they left the 188.

As they rode the elevator down to the lowest level of the vault, she explained the plan to him. Keely released an explosive gas through the ventilation system that they needed to ignite to burn off the infectious spores. It sounded simple enough, but when they reached the vent, it became clear that the main problem was not igniting the gas so much as not blowing themselves up in the process.

Without Veronica around, he felt more comfortable asserting his opinion. "Seems to me that the best strategy would be to stand in here," he said, pointing to the small room nearby where they had found the research data, "tossing a grenade and shutting the door before it goes off."

"Sounds like a plan," Beth agreed, pulling a grenade out of her side pack and holding it out to him. "Want to do the honors?"

He shook his head. "Nah. Your aim with those is better than mine."

"Well I was the MVP of my vault's baseball team," she added with a sly grin.

"For real?"

"Yup."

"How did they fit a baseball diamond inside a vault?"

She shrugged. "They made some modifications to the game."

In spite of all the tension still between them and their strange surroundings, having a light moment like this reassured him that everything between them would be alright in time. He could hold onto that until they got to Vegas and could clear the air.

Pulling the pin from the grenade, she tossed it toward the vent in a perfect arc. At the same moment, he hit the button to close the door. In the half-second it took it to respond, he feared that it wouldn't and he was about to throw himself at her in a shielding embrace before the door slid shut. Three seconds later came the bang from the grenade and an almost simultaneous wave of fire passed the room's window. The heat from the flames warmed the room, but they were safe. When the fire extinguished itself from lack of fuel, they exited the room and returned to the elevator.

"Feeling better, Veronica?" Beth asked when they got back to the lab.

"Yeah, that Rad-Away really hit the spot," she answered, patting the drained pack. "Where would we be without the wonders of pre-war medicine?"

Keely grunted. "I see the spores have been taken care of," she said, examining the computer terminal. "Good work. Now I just need to erase the research data so this never happens again."

Beth and Veronica looked at each other, but said nothing.

"Wait, what?" Keely said. "This says the data was downloaded to an external storage device sometime in the last twenty-four hours." She turned to Beth, eyeing her Pip-Boy. "Would you know anything about that?"

"Yes, I copied the data when we were searching the vault. It was what we came for."

"I hope you can see now that this research is very dangerous and cannot be allowed out of this vault. Give me your arm so I can erase it."

Beth clasped her right hand protectively over her Pip-Boy. "In the right hands, this research could also be very valuable. Think how many hungry people could be fed from plants that can thrive in the Wasteland. Think about the medicines that could be created from new plant species. Think of the possibilities for geoengineering. Yes, this research has killed dozens of people, but it could save thousands."

Boone listened, the persuasive passion in her voice making his heart beat faster. Not many people could say no to her.

The ghoul raised a hairless eyebrow. "And how can I be sure you will deliver the technology into the 'right hands'?"

"You can't, but we could have just taken the data and left. Instead, we came looking for you. Doesn't that show we have good intentions and aren't just mercenaries out for profit?"

"Hm...I suppose it does. I can see your bodyguard there is NCR," she said, glancing at Boone. "Is that who you're working for?"

"My partner is a former soldier, but, no, we don't work for the NCR."

"So who are you going to give the research to?"

"The Followers of the Apocalypse. If anyone can be trusted to be careful with this technology and deliver the benefits to the most people, it's them."

Keely seemed to consider her point. "Very well. I hope they can find a good use for it. Thank you for your help."

"You're welcome. Stay safe."

The three companions left the vault and headed back towards Vegas.

"Good job back there," Veronica said to Beth. "I mean, it's a shame that you had to lie, but I don't think Keely would have been persuaded if you'd told her you were giving the tech to the Brotherhood."

"I wasn't really lying. I am going to give a copy to the Followers for all the reasons I said. I just left the part about the Brotherhood out."

"What about the NCR?" Boone asked.

She turned to him, shaking her head. "No, clearly the person who sent those scientists is reckless and can't be trusted. I'm sure the Followers will make sure that the benefits are distributed to the citizens of the NCR safely."

"You're probably right." He knew she was. To send scientists into any vault without guards to protect them was beyond foolish. If that person couldn't be careful with their lives, how could they be trusted to be careful with this research?

Even though he knew that Beth's plans were the best thing for the NCR, sometimes he still struggled with his feelings of disloyalty. Before Bitter Springs, his faith in the NCR had been unshakable. Since he was seventeen, he'd devoted his life to it, nearly given his life for it on more than one occasion. Until that day, he'd never questioned that the army was the best use of his life.

Now he knew that following Beth was the best thing he could do, both for himself and the NCR.

ipsa scientia potestas est: knowledge itself is power