Chapter 1 - Joining The Club

COURIER: I want to join the Think Tank.

KLEIN: JOIN us?! Become one of these LOVELY brains?! Why that's…that's a good idea. Yes, it would be quite interesting.

DALA: It would be marvelous to have another to speak to after all this time. One not felled by Mentats addiction!

8: [I am NOT addicted! I can quit anytime I want to!]

BOROUS: SUUUUUUUURE you can! And I'm the King of England!

KLEIN: YOU ARE?! Why haven't you gotten us more funding? More personnel, make some noise in the British…what were we talking about?

COURIER: Me joining the Think Tank. And it sounds like you need me.

0: Ooooooh, look at this skinsuit, thinking he is the most important thing since nuclear fission.

COURIER: Look, you've all been cooking in that brain juice for two centuries. Don't you think you could use a new perspective?

[pause.]

[agreement.]

-abef-

COURIER'S BRAIN: Rest in pieces, skinsuit!

0: Indeed! I can hardly shed a single tear.

KLEIN: And now that that annoying interloper has been FRIED TO A FUCKING CRISP, let us begin the EXPERIMENTS!

BOROUS: BOOOOOOOOOOOOOM! That is the explosion of SCIENCE!

COURIER'S BRAIN: Will you silly fools calm down for just one moment? We must begin our research.

KLEIN: Yes, that sounds good. Research. Research of the Mojave!

Chapter 2 - Experimental Research

Cass was a singing, dismembered head.

It was pointless to pretend this was impossible, since it was literally happening. But it was still fucking annoying.

It had all started two days ago, when something strange began happening at Mojave Outpost. Two of the NCR soldiers stationed there had found their heads cleanly severed from their bodies, with not so much as a single drop of blood to be found on the dirt. And more bizarrely, they were still alive, and singing a pre-War song called Papa Loves Mambo.

Then the force field had appeared.

Nobody could escape. The heads never stopped singing, and a few people had killed themselves to be free of the infernal racket. But by the end of the week, those that hadn't had joined the singing chorus.

That had been a month ago. Now Cass was singing Big Iron with the other heads, wishing desperately that someone could find a way through the force field and shoot all of them. Their bodies were decomposing, but they needed no food or water. They just sang.

And sang, and sang, and sang, and sang…

-abef-

KLEIN: RESEARCH REPORT!

0: The heads sustained themselves for six months before expiring. In that time, they sang through nearly all of popular recorded music going back to the 19th century.

COURIER'S BRAIN: Splendid! And the inhabitants of the Wasteland?

DALA: That is not a concern. The force field has been expanded, and nobody may exit or leave. We can continue our experiments.

COURIER'S BRAIN: Then let us turn to Mr. House!

-abef-

HOUSE: There are not words available in English to describe by hatred for the six of you.

DALA: Come now, Robert, don't be so glum! You're one of us now!

HOUSE: Only after you forcibly removed me from my life support chamber, brought me here, and put my brain in one of these accursed jars! Now I am stuck with all of you for eternity!

KLEIN: STUCK?! WE CAN'T GET STUCK! We have WORK TO DO!

BOROUS: All work and no play makes…how does it go again?

COURIER'S BRAIN: Imbeciles.

HOUSE: If there is a god, I pray that he will kill me now.

Chapter 3 - Run Goodsprings Run

"What in the heck is that up in the sky?" Doc Mitchell asked.

"Beats me," Sunny Smiles replied. "Seems like-"

She said nothing else before a hexcrete block that had fallen out of the sky crushed her, killing her instantly.

"HOLY SHIT!" Mitchell exclaimed! "EVERYONE, RUN!"

The townsfolk who had been gathered around to witness the strange aerial phenomena immediately scattered at Mitchell's directive. Alas, it was not enough to save them, for the Goodsprings Force Field had already been activated.

Mitchell lasted the longest. The very last hexcrete block lingered over his form for a moment as he said the Lord's Prayer, and then he was no more.

-abew-

BOXCARS: This doesn't feel right.

JOE COBB: Don't tell me you actually feel sorry for these assholes? If you do, I might have to break your legs again.

BOXCARS: No, boss, nothin' like that. Goodsprings got what was comin' to 'em. It's just…

[pause.]

JOE COBB: Spit it out!

BOXCARS: The way it happened feels…off to me. Kinda ominous, you know?

JOE COBB: Actually, yeah, I get that. They all just got crushed by shit fallin' out of the sky. It's weird.

BOXCARS: We should probably keep our eyes-

[force field.]

[hexcrete.]

[death to the Powder Gangers.]

-abew-

KLEIN: RESEARCH REPORT!

COURIER BRAIN: We have received some fascinating insights into the human body's ability to tolerate crushing.

HOUSE: You are sadistic barbarians.

BOROUS: Barbarians! They go RAAAAAAAAAAAAAWR.

DALA: Come now, House. Surely you can see the scientific value of our work?

HOUSE: No, truthfully, I do not. There is no scientific value in torturing people for your amusement.

COURIER: You will come around in time, Robert.

HOUSE: Curse all of you.

0: Curse us all you want, but you're kind of stuck here, so you better get used to us!

Chapter 4 - Primm And Proper

BEAGLE: What do you think all of this crazy nonsense is about anyhow?

WASTELANDER: Beats me.

BEAGLE: I'm nervous. We can't leave the Mojave, and now I have to-

[X-RAY ZAP]

-abew-

COURIER BRAIN: Fascinating. We have perfectly replicated the results of a nuclear strike without any of the components required for one.

8: [WHEN WILL WE DO MORE SONIC EXPERIMENTS?]

HOUSE: May I make a suggestion?

[pause.]

DALA: Of course you may, Robert. I am pleased to see you participate.

HOUSE: Perhaps we could consider terraforming the wasteland.

KLEIN: TERRAFORMING?! Do you have ANY IDEA how much time and resources that would take for a single experiment? And what would be the purpose? We already KNOW humans can live in nuclear-free environments!

DALA: I agree. It is not a fruitful use of our resources.

HOUSE: Typical dross nonsense. If I may ask, what is the purpose of ANY of your experiments?

0: To obtain data, obviously.

HOUSE: Data for what? What are you going to accomplish with all of this?

DALA: Personally, I am of the opinion that science is its own reward.

HOUSE: You cannot be serious.

0: Come now, quit being confrontational! One day our experiments will yield results that are beneficial to all of humanity.

HOUSE: Such as?

KLEIN: THE GLORIOUS LIMITS OF HUMAN ENDURANCE!

BOROUS: Indeed! It is so fascinating to see how many ways humans can die, and how far they can be pushed!

COURIER BRAIN: Robert, you must accept the state of things. You are not in control of our direction.

HOUSE: Yes, I am PAINFULLY aware of that.

Chapter 5 - The End of Jacobstown

It was the end.

Marcus knew that Jacobstown was doomed the moment the accursed satellite began looming above them. The twisted, sadistic science experiments that had laid waste to the Mojave were now coming for them. He hoped it would simply kill them all instantly, as it had the unfortunate souls of Primm. But what had happened instead was far worse: it drove the Nightkin insane.

"GIVE ME STEALTH BOY NOW!"

He sighed as he bashed the brains of yet another deranged Nightkin in. They were tearing Jacobstown apart, and he had already given the order to abandon it.

The Mojave was dead, and science had killed it.

-abef-

0: Fascinating creatures, the nightkins! Like super mutants, but less stable, dependent on brain-altering Stealth Boy technology.

BOROUS: They are BIG! And PURPLE! Just like my MOTHER-IN-LAW!

DALA: One wonders how the Master managed to keep control of such an…unstable group of individuals.

HOUSE: If you six are any indication, instability is no impediment to action.

DALA: Must you continue insulting us for all eternity? It grows tiresome, dear Robert.

HOUSE: If you don't like it, you could always just kill me.

KLEIN: AND WASTE THAT BRAINPOWER?! NEVER!

8: [SONIC EXPERIMENT]

COURIER BRAIN: Not to fret, 8. Our next experiment will involve the Black Mountain Radio signal. And it should be a fruitful one indeed!

Chapter 6 - Black Mountain Madness

Raul Tejada was not having a good week. He thought escaping from Tabitha's custody would be the start of something new, but so far it had been nothing but nonstop horror. He cursed whatever horrible being was conducting all of these deadly experiments.

First, he had to escape Black Mountain. That was difficult enough already with super mutants, but these damn experimenters had also unleashed carnivorous brahmin on the Mojave. Brahmin that were large enough and strong enough to give DEATHCLAWS a run for their money! Somehow he had managed to evade them, but he had nearly lost his arm.

But that wasn't enough. Oh, no. He made his way to Camp Searchlight, hoping the radiation would encourage people to leave him alone. But people weren't the problem. The problem were yet MORE carnivorous creatures, this time plants. He had barely escaped with his life, again, only to be washed away by a sudden and massive shift of the Colorado River.

Now he was on Scavenger Platform, surrounded by angry lakelurks who were circling said Platform and waiting for the opportunity to eat him.

Who in heaven did I piss off enough to deserve this?

-abew-

HOUSE: Please don't. You don't understand what Vegas represents-

KLEIN: PORN AND GAMBLING! We have a more noble purpose.

HOUSE: …excuse me?

COURIER BRAIN: Come now, House. Surely you can admit your own feelings towards Vegas are colored by your experiences as a capitalist.

HOUSE: Perhaps, but it is still a Jewel worth preserving!

0: A compromise? Perhaps we can keep the Tops as an experimental subject residential dwelling.

[sigh.]

HOUSE: I suppose that's the best I'm going to get. Very well.

Chapter 7 - Stripped Bare

Yahweh would have approved of Gomorrah's experimental "punishment".

Notorious as the most sleazy and disease-prone of the three casinos, it had been chosen by the Think Tank to be the target of a prototype STD. Said prototype STD was a fungus that grew within genitalia and eventually caused death via violent rupture.

It had taken less than a week for every prostitute in Gomorrah to get infected, and the former strip club now looked like something out of a horror show.

Not that the White Glove Society was spared. Oh, no. The Think Tank had correctly deduced that the casino practiced cannibalism, and so they were fed the remains of experimental subjects. This was not the most healthy human meat, and before long members of the White Glove Society were sick with a wide variety of aliments. The research data was truly fascinating.

On the other hand, the Tops was doing fantastic.

-abew-

SWANK: Doesn't really feel like it's happening does it? I've been pinching myself a lot lately, but I guess this ain't a dream after all. Ring-a-ding.

CUSTOMER: I'm just glad I got here when I did.

SWANK: Don't forget that you only get to stay here if you spend. We're being generous, but you're due to gamble or buy a drink today.

CUSTOMER: Oh, fine! Give me a shot of the house rum.

SWANK: Will do!

-abew-

COURIER BRAIN: We must expand the scope of our experiments beyond the Mojave. Starting with those uncivilized ruffians calling themselves Caesar's Legion!

BOROUS: YES! DEATH TO THE NEW ROMAN EMPRIE! The old one was bad enough!

DALA: Perhaps Rome does not have to die. Perhaps it can be…reformed.

0: Intriguing. Please, do go on.

Chapter 8 - Goodbye Legion

Caesar was proud of the Lunar Roman Empire.

He still wasn't quite sure how he (and his entire Legion) time-traveled to Ancient Rome. He was still surprised to learn that there was an Ancient Rome on the moon. But he had taken advantage of the opportunity, and soon all of the Earth's satellite would be his!

GLORY TO CAESAR!

-abew-

COURIER BRAIN: Well, we seemed to have pleased the New California Republic with the Legion brain-scrubbing.

HOUSE: I must admit, this is the first thing you've done that I wholeheartedly approve of. Caesar's Legion was an abomination, and brainwashing them all into believing they are part of a lunar-based ancient Roman Empire does seem fitting.

KLEIN: WE'RE NOT DONE YET! Those damn self-righteous Californian skinsuits are JUST as ripe for experimentation.

0: What exactly did you have in mind?

KLEIN: They love the pre-war world so much? How about we GIVE them the pre-war world, forever and ever! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

-abew-

Dr. Stainislaus Braun was very intrigued.

"So," the little girl said to the projection of the Courier's Brain, "you want to expand Tranquility Lane?"

"In a manner of speaking," the Brain replied. "We wish to…attempt a real-world experiment involving it."

Her expression brightened. "That sounds like fun! Who are you going to try it on?"

Upon being sent the files on the New California Republic, he/she laughed out loud. "That sounds wonderful! I'll send you a copy of my code! I can't wait to see President Kimball get brainwashed!"

Chapter 9 - Goodbye NCR

Mayor Aaron Kimball knew something was wrong.

He really had to think to figure it out. But once he did, the doubts crystallized in his head:

* Where did Tranquility Lane come from? It was all any of them had ever known, and all their history books mentioned. But…didn't someone have to create it at some point?

* How could millions of them fit into one street?

* Furthermore, how did that street go on endlessly?

There was only one other person who shared his suspicion: a homeless man whom he sometimes saw as he walked out of his house early in the morning.

"We're not supposed to be here!" He would say. "None of this is real!"

But how could it not be real? He had been Mayor of Tranquility Lane for seventeen years, like First Mayor Tandi before him. All of the history books confirmed that. Everyone he knew confirmed that.

So why did he find himself thinking about the homeless man so much?

He doubted he would ever have a satisfactory answer.

-abew-

KLEIN: What comes next, fellow researchers? THE WORLD IS OUR OYSTER! Our OYSTER, I say!

0: Well, there's your answer! We can experiment on anyone we want! Maybe we could all each do a different part of the country!

DALA: A splendid idea! The more places we have to experiment on, the more valuable our data!

HOUSE: I will experiment on space travel.

BOROUS: SPACE! THE FINAL FRONTIER!

0: Where'd you get THAT line?

BOROUS: You know, I…don't know. It just sort of came to me. Does anyone know what a "Star Trek" is?

ALL: No.

Epilogue: War Of The Sciences

17 years later…

Amata Almodovar opened the door to Vault 101, the blank expression on her face reflecting her current mind-wiped status.

"Greetings, Think Tank," she said robotically. "We welcome you to our home, and will now evacuate to make room for you."

She and the other residents of Vault 101 marched single-file outside the Vault and to their likely deaths while the Think Tank set up its eastern base of operations.

And so the experiments continued. When the Capital Wasteland was exhausted, the Commonwealth was next.

And it was there that they met the Institute.

-abew-

SHAUN: Well, it looks like we're at war.

MADISON LI: Indeed. Can we defeat them, though?

SHAUN: Perhaps. Perhaps not. We would not have had any chance at all if my mother had not sided with us and eradicated the other factions. Now, however? It does appear that we have a chance.

MADISON LI: A chance isn't a guarantee.

SHAUN: What in life is?

-abew-

And so the battle for the future of humanity and science began.