(AN: Would you look at that? More chapter updates! The end of the world must be...oh, never mind then! That joke has probably been done to death, and it's far too on-the-nose, given that this is a Fallout story.)
(Two things about this chapter: one is that I distinctly had Nathan describe Valentine as similar to Humphrey Bogart in his voice and mannerisms, which I thought was a nice touch of the hat to the "early 20th century retro" feel of the Fallout universe. The second is that a big, slightly dumb, character by the name of Malone brought to my mind a certain accountant from Scranton New York [one who makes a mean chili, according to rumors].)
The Robot Sleuth
They made their way back to the doors of the Combat Zone and peered outside. The storm was still going on outside, and they closed the doors behind them. Piper kicked a piece of junk on the floor, while Cait went around to the door with the two bound raiders. She reached into her mess of red hair and pulled out a bobby pin, with which she began trying to pick the lock of the door. Nathan grinned as he watched her work, and Piper, teasingly, walked over to his side and muttered:
"Like what you see, Blue?"
Nathan gasped, then cleared his throat. "I was impressed by her lockpicking."
"Uh-huh, sure," Piper said, not believing his excuse.
"I mean it!" Nathan returned. "Nora knew a similar trick like that. She showed it to me years ago."
"You'll have to show me this trick, then," Piper replied, biting her lower lip in a smile.
"Oi!" Cait spoke up. "I can here ye two, ye know...ah, fuck!" In her frustration, she pressed too sharply on her pin and it snapped. She took the pieces out of the keyhole, then retrieved another one from her hair and went to work again.
"What's in there that you want?" Nathan asked.
"Those two jack-offs," Cait said. "They've probably got a few caps between 'em. After I knock their heads about with me bat, they'll be willin' t' cough 'em up."
"You're going to rob them?" Piper exclaimed incredulously.
"Why not?" Cait returned. "D'ye think they'd hesitate to rob ye if ye were tied up and they weren't?"
"Still, I think Piper has a point," Nathan interjected. "Perhaps we should just leave them be."
"Suit yerself," Cait grumbled, as the pins snapped beneath her fingers. "But ye owe me some bobby pins fer this...and a good stiff drink!" With that, she left the door and began pacing the floor while they waited. Nathan and Piper sat down with Dogmeat against one wall, while Nathan played around with his Pip-boy. The radio signal was coming in, and a little diddy by Sheldon Allman came crooning over the speaker. By the time the song ended with one last triumphant "Why don't you Crawl Out Through the Fallout back to me", Travis' stammering voice was heard. Cait groaned and kicked at the outer door, then drew it open.
"Oi!" she called out. "Turn that shite off. The storm's gone."
Nathan and Piper came along after her, followed by Dogmeat. True enough, the sickly green pallor had left the sky passing on eastward, while the noon sky was starting to clear up. The four of them left the Combat Zone and, creeping along quietly, made their way along the northern side of the Boston Commons. There was no sign or sight of Swan, but neither Nathan nor Piper were willing to trust their luck. Cait, however, was still smarting from being withheld from whacking the two punished raiders.
"We shoulda whacked those bastards," she said. "They'll get free and then call more o'them here. This place'll be crawlin' with raiders before nightfall."
"Hopefully we'll be gone by then," said Nathan.
But their departure from the Combat Zone hadn't been unnoticed. From one of the ruinous building wrecks to the north, there appeared a nondescript wastelander: one of the vagabonds of the Commonwealth, dressed in ragged clothing made of the hide of some irradiated beast. The only thing that stood out from his outfit was the pair of sunglasses which he wore over his eyes. He remained in hiding until the three and their dog passed him by; then slowly he peered out to watch them leave. At this, the dog paused and turned about; the wastelander quickly ducked out of sight and tried to hide himself. The voice of the man was heard calling their canine companion to follow after them. The fact that he obeyed meant that he wasn't one of the irradiated hounds that wandered the cities. The strange man breathed a sigh of relief, then poked out his head and looked in the direction of the Combat Zone: he let out a sharp, amazed whistle.
By and by, the small party made their way along Tremont Street; their destination, to Nathan's surprise, was coming up on the left at the corner of Tremont and Park Street. It was the entrance to the old Park Street station. In Nathan's day, he remembered something in the newspaper about the station being purchased by Vault-Tech: it didn't make any sense why a military-contractor needed a public subway station, and it was one of many reasons why he was skeptical of them back then. He was almost going to think fondly of them until he remembered what he saw on the terminals in Vault 111.
"You alright, Blue?" Piper asked. Apparently she had noticed it.
"Yeah, just...reminiscing," Nathan replied.
"Well, can we reminisce later?" Cait asked. "Don't we got somethin' t' do first?"
"You're right, first we find this Nick Valentine," Nathan said.
But his thoughts lingered on what he had seen in the computer terminals. His thoughts lingered on this as they came to the entrance of the subway station. Large signs, many of them rusted, peppered with bullet holes, or painted over with rude graffiti, were erected which read: Property of Vault-Tech. No Trespassing. Violators will be shot on sight.
"Guess they weren't fond o' visitors," Cait remarked.
"Shh!" Nathan shushed. "We don't know what's waiting for us down there, so try and keep it quiet. If you see anyone, take them out quickly but quietly." Nathan gripped his .45 and led the way, while Cait and Piper, shotgun and 10mm in hand, followed on behind him and Dogmeat took up the rear. Down a flight of stairs they went into the main lobby of the station. Just then Nathan held up his hand to call for a halt; he could see someone moving out of the corner of his eye at the bottom of the stairs.
"Alright," Nathan whispered. "I'll go in first, find cover, and start laying down a wall of fire. Cait, you follow after me and fire when you see a target, got it?"
"Aye, cap'n," she replied.
"What about me?" Piper asked.
"You cover us from the stairs," Nathan said. "Make sure Dogmeat doesn't run out into the firing zone."
"Jus' watch yer arse," Cait added. "These blokes are Triggermen; they're a step up from raider scum."
"You know who they are?" Nathan asked.
"I hear shite from the folks at the Combat Zone," she replied. "They've got a lot o' machine guns. Won't be easy."
"Understoo..." Nathan stopped short. He realized that they were making more noise than he had initially thought. For a long, tense moment he held his breath and shushed the two ladies with him. He noiselessly counted the minutes as the Triggermen walked towards the sound they had heard. At last, the guard grumbled and went on his way. Nathan gave a gesture for the two women to wait for him as he went the rest of the way. At last he arrived at the bottom of the stairs, in full view of everyone at the other side of the turn-style.
"Hey!" one of the Triggermen called out. "Who the hell are y..."
Bang! Louder than outside rang the shot that Nathan set off on the Triggerman, blowing a hole in his chest. All at once, half a dozen guns turned towards Nathan as he ran for cover. Shots rang out over and over, the loud rattling of the machine guns, nearly deafening those inside the subway station. Peering out from the other side of the stairway, Piper let out a squeal and then took her gun in her hands, squeezing the grip tightly as she then swung her arm around and fired off a shot in the general direction of the Triggermen.
"Shit! There's more of 'em!" one shouted.
"Keep it up!" Nathan called back, before peering up from cover and taking a shot at one of the Triggermen: he missed the chest and hit him in the right arm, but he went down. They unloaded rounds after rounds at his location, and bullets were flying all over the place. Nathan called for Piper, and she shot her arm out and squeezed off three more rounds, sending the Triggermen scrambling for cover. Nathan fired off another round, but it bounced off of the wall of the ticket booth.
"Cait!" Piper shouted, as she aimed her gun back around the corner and fired off three more rounds. "Could really use your help right now!" She fired off two more, then ducked back under cover as a hail of bullets peppered the wall at the bottom of the stairwell. Turning around, Piper saw that Cait was bent over, as if hiding something.
"Hey!" Piper shouted, and jabbed Cait in the shin with her boot.
"Shite!" Cait retorted, leaning back up: something fell from her grasp onto the floor, but the sound was muffled by the gunfire.
"We're in deep!" Piper said. "How about lending us a hand?"
Nathan rose from cover briefly to fire off another round, hitting one of the Triggermen in the shoulder. Another hail of machine gun fire peppered the wall behind him.
"Ladies!" he shouted. "Cover me!"
Piper leaned back out and fired three rounds, then her 10mm clicked.
"Dammit, I'm out!" she swore. She ducked back behind the wall and fumbled in her jacket for the next round.
"I'm comin' for you, bitch!" one of the Triggermen taunted.
But while Piper was reloading, Cait came out with her shotgun. One of the Triggermen, a Ghoul, turned toward her: a blast from her weapon blew off his arm and sent him falling to the ground. Another one aimed his machine gun at her, and squeezed the trigger. Click. He was empty. Cait didn't even bat an eye when the gun was aimed at her, nor even did she flinch when the trigger was pulled. When no bullets came, she frowned slightly, then sent off a blast from the hip that tore a hole in the Triggerman's suit.
There was no gunfire. Nathan rose from his place, looking about this way and that. No one took a shot at him. Piper reloaded and came out from cover when she saw that the others were out in the open.
"Are they dead?" she asked.
"This one ain't," Cait exclaimed. The one Nathan had hit in the shoulder was not dead. Taking out her baseball bat, Cait smacked the fallen man's head with all her might, exploding it like a watermelon. She then went among the bodies, looking over them and hitting those she thought were not 'dead enough.'
"Wish it hadn't come to that," Piper said to Nathan, eying Cait's brutality.
"Ye dunnae last as long as I have," Cait commented. "Without knockin' a few skulls. Gotta make sure ye put 'em down good, or they always come back t' bit ye in the arse." She knelt down and wiped her bat on the Triggerman's suit, and when she stood up she noticed Nathan was glaring at her oddly.
"Oi, cap'n!" she said. "Dunnae stare, speak! And if yer lookin' fer a shag, the answer's no."
Nathan blushed at her boldness and lowered his face. "Sorry, it was just...well, I've never seen someone stare down the barrel of a gun like that before. Stupid thing to do. You could have been shot."
"Not the first time I've stared down the barrel of'a gun," she replied. Piper noticed a hint of grimness in her voice, but didn't say a word. "And I dunnae need ye holdin' me 'and. I'm a big girl."
"I know," Nathan replied. "But this isn't a dick-measuring contest. We're out here, risking our lives, we have to have each other's back."
"Why?" Cait asked. "What good's that done anybody? Folk as expect somebody to have their back wind up dead or worse."
"Look, just don't take any unnecessary risks," Nathan replied. "If there are more of these Triggermen around, it'll be tough going for all of us. Now, form up on me."
"Is that some kind of army talk, Blue?" Piper asked.
"Yes, it is," he replied. "It means line up behind me. Now let's move out. If there are more of them, they'll have heard the firefight. Let's make this as quick as possible, got it?"
"Sure thing, Blue."
"Aye, cap'n."
Before they left, Nathan made a search of the bodies. To his dismay, none of them had any .45 ammunition. He double-checked his ammo: not enough to last him in another fire-fight of this size and length. He thought again of Righteous Authority, still in his duffle-bag. But the shape and feel of the .45 reminded him of the War, when he had one of these as a side-arm. Perhaps he was feeling nostalgic for a time now long gone, a time when the world made sense: a time when people were somewhat less savage than today.
"Not yet," he muttered. Turning around, he whistled and Dogmeat followed after them.
From the turn-style, they went farther downstairs until they came to a loading ramp. It was deserted, and they were permitted to cross over to one of the large subway tunnels. The trains had long since come to a halt, and the tunnels were almost completely pitch black. Lamps powered by nuclear reactors continued to burn in some places, emitting eerie light here and there on the loading platforms but not in the tunnels. Nathan had to flip on the light of his Pip-Boy in order to see as they progressed through the subway tunnel.
As they were about half-way through one of the long tunnels, Piper whispered over to Nathan.
"What are you doing with that slug-thrower?" she asked. "That laser rifle you had at the Combat Zone's much better."
"Maybe I'm nostalgic for the old days," he replied. "But I'll keep that in mind when I run out. Not a lot of .45 ammo around here."
"Not a lot of ammo anywhere," Piper added. "Maybe Arturo has something. When we're done here, we should stop by Commonwealth Weaponry at Diamond City."
Nathan gave a quiet shush again. He could hear voices from the far end of the tunnel, and flashes of light.
"I take it that's the others," Nathan said. "Let's go in quickly. Take cover as soon as you find it and fire as they appear. Piper, keep Dogmeat safe. I'll go in first."
Running in a crouched position, Nathan made his way through the tunnel. The echoes he had heard were growing louder: someone was on the other end of the tunnel. A shot echoed loudly in the tunnel, followed by the faint, distorted cries of others farther down in a wide hall beyond. Soon bullets were flying every which way, and the three of them had to duck down for cover to avoid being hit. Luckily, there were several desiccated box-cars still on the tracks that gave them a substantial amount of cover, and the Triggermen had no explosives or grenades.
A shootout began in the tunnels, with Nathan, Cait, and Piper fighting off a dozen Triggermen. The lights in the tunnel were still running, thanks to whatever nuclear-powered generator they were hooked up to, and Nathan still had V.A.T.S. with him: a good thing, as it could spot a target in dim or low light conditions where even his own eyes could not see them. One by one, Triggermen started dropping as target after target was found. The last one was pinned with a shot to the head from Nathan, who then swore as he checked his .45.
"I'm out," he sighed. "And I liked this gun too!"
"Save it for when we get back to Diamond City," Piper advised. To this Nathan assented, and grabbed Righteous Authority to be his sidearm instead.
They made their way out of cover slowly, looking this way and that for any sign of movement. Cait would walk among the bodies, picking up anything she thought was useful, and giving them a smack with her baseball bat to make sure they were dead. Dogmeat followed behind Nathan and Piper, for he did not seem very fond of Cait.
The tunnel in which they were in led to a wide hall with a lofty roof. To the left they could see what looked like a construction zone: cranes, crates, and traffic signs were still standing - or riddled with bullet-holes - all along the left side of the hall. Nathan flipped on the spotlight of his Pip-boy and shone it into the construction zone: a gasp escaped from his lips as he saw what was inside. The rock had been drilled away and there stood a huge circular door in the side of the solid rock: he recognized the cog-wheel shape of the door itself.
"A Vault..." he gasped.
"Yeah," Piper added. "All these excavators here, it's like where they go to die."
"Looks like they never completed it," said Cait.
In the center of the Vault door was the number 114. Nathan walked up to the door and saw nearby the terminal. It was of the same style and make as the one he used to escape from Vault 111. He pulled out the plug and cord from his Pip-boy and plugged himself into the system.
"What are ye doin' that fer?" Cait asked.
"It's how I got out of Vault 111," he explained.
"And yer not seriously thinkin' 'bout goin' in t' one o' these?" Cait asked.
"Why not?" Nathan asked. "This is where we need to go, isn't it? Besides, you said it wasn't finished."
"Aye, it looks that way," she replied. "But it could be otherwise. I heard o' some fucked up experiments Vault-Tec did in these vaults. I heard down in th' Capital Wasteland, there's one that's filled with hundreds o' clones o' one guy: mad as a bat and only says one word a'fore 'e guts ye."
The glass panel on the terminal opened and Nathan pressed the red button.
"I've heard stories about Vault 108 down in the DC hell-hole," Piper added with an ominous hint. "They say the vault was looted, but some of the clones escaped. Wastelanders say that you can always tell where the clones have been: everywhere, they leave signs of their whereabouts. Spray-paint, blood, pieces of junk, all spelling out the same word over and over, everywhere: Gary."
There was a loud roar as the alarm alerted the opening of the Vault. They stepped back as the great door turned and passed inside: the mouth of the Vault yawned open before them, leading down into the depths of the earth into who knows what. Nathan shouldered Righteous Authority, gently rubbed Dogmeat's side with his boot, then turned to the two women.
"Are you coming?"
"Do I have a choice?" asked Cait.
"This is where Ellie said Nick was, right?" Piper replied, checking the bullets on her gun. "I'm right behind you, Blue."
As they went in, they found two Triggermen who came from deeper inside to see what was making the noise. A blast from Righteous Authority slew one, and Dogmeat attacked the other one long enough for Piper to get a shot off: Cait, not convinced he was dead, gave him a few blows to the head with her baseball bat. Now they passed inside, Nathan eying the inside of the Vault with discomfort and grim memory. Noticing this, Piper walked up closer to him.
"Hey, you holding up there, Blue?" she asked.
"Hmm? Oh, yes," he dismissed, rolling his eyes. "Nothing quite like the feeling of being trapped inside a Vault far below ground with angry Triggermen around us."
"Alright, alright, I get it," Piper smirked. "Now what's really bothering you?"
He sighed. "Bad memories, that's all."
"I could imagine," Piper remarked. "That story about Vault 108 is only the strangest story I've heard about what went on in these places: some of 'em...really bad!" She whistled. "So, just so you know, if you ever need someone to talk to..."
"Thanks," Nathan said, curter than he had intended it to be. But he was starting to feel that uncomfortable feeling that he was replacing Nora with Piper. It still felt wrong, so close to her death (in his memory, at least).
He chose instead to focus on the task at hand and go forward quickly and as quietly as possible. He had managed not to get hit so far in this strange new world, and he did not like the idea of treating his wounds with irradiated water and not a single bit of clean cloth. The others noticed his lead and went as softly as possible: even Dogmeat slowed down his steps. Suddenly he paused, perking up his ears and cocking his head.
There were voices coming from the other side of the corridor that went down deeper into the vault. Nathan had them gather close to the walls of the tunnel and wait for them to arrive. They were now close enough that their voices could be made out.
"...probably some raider assholes," a gruff voice said. "The boys did 'em in good."
"Then why ain't they respondin'?" replied a less hoarse voice. "What, are they all takin' a piss or somethin'?"
"Fuck if I know. It ain't my job to ask questions, just to shoot shit."
"Jeez, what wise guy came up with the bright idea of buildin' a vault in a subway tunnel? It's the opposite of air-tight."
"You fuckin' moron," laughed the gruff voice. "Nobody ever meant it to be finished."
"How the hell do you know?"
"We used to pull this kinda con all the time back before the War. Get a bunch o' union guys to do some construction work that never gets completed but keep 'em on the payroll."
"Why the hell would you do that?"
"How the fuck should I know? It was a fucked up time, back then. Anybody who even made a whiff of bein' a socialist was clapped for bein' a spy for the Chinese. Not that that did much good no-how, as quite a few ended up in office right up until the bombs fell. Bah! Socialists and capitalists can both go to hell: they screwed us over big time and left us with the mess."
"How do you figure?"
"A ghoul buddy o' mine went down to the old Boylston Club just down the street from 'ere. Used to be some ritzy social club or another, where all the white collar pricks used to sip wine and brag about how much money they have; I don't know. Anyway, my buddy scavved the place up; said that he found terminal entries there about some sort o' mass suicide right around the time the bombs fell. Fucking useless pricks screwed us over and took the easy way out!"
"Tough shit."
"Easy for you to say. Your face don't look like fried ass!"
About this time, two Triggermen rounded the corner right into the oncoming group. They didn't stand a chance. But Nathan was going over what he had heard from them in his head. Was this true? He knew about the Boylston Club; several former US presidents frequented that club, as they were among the lucky few in the US Commonwealth that could afford the $500k annual fee. Had they really done as this Triggerman's ghoul friend had said? Had they left the world to its doom, uncaring and unwilling to even remake it in their own image?
At that, Cait delivered a blow with her baseball bat to the ghoul Triggerman and made a scowl.
"Fucking sentimental piece of shite," she said.
"Was that really necessary?" asked Nathan.
"I don't hate ghouls more than I hate everyone else," Cait replied. "But his bitchin' and moanin' about the past was gettin' on me nerves. There's no point in thinkin' about days long gone. They're past, and they ain't comin' back: no good lookin' back." She pointed with her bloody bat to the ghoul's face.
"Whatever happened long ago don't mean shite to us," she added. "That world is dead...and this one is fucked as well."
"So what's the answer, then?" Nathan asked, his eyes seeing past her as he looked at her.
"How the fuck should I know?" she retorted. "I'm hopin' to get a good stiff drink at the end o'this slog. Let's get goin'; the sooner we're done here, the better."
Nathan nodded, and they went on their way down the winding tunnel into the depths of the vault. But Piper was looking with interest at Nathan. The questions brought up by Cait were of interest to her, and she was curious if Nathan wanted to talk about this later. She had a few ideas of her own, and wondered what he would think about them. Also...
On and on they went, going deeper into the earth. Several of the passages they came to where unfinished, and either fenced off with signs or blocked with large steel boxes. There were more Triggermen, but their numbers were starting to diminish the further they went in. At last, after a brief firefight, they came to a half-constructed room. There were no doors or passageways going farther in; only a service hatch that went down two stories with no ladder. The only other way to go was back into the subway station and out into the Commons.
"Dead end?" Piper asked.
"No, not yet," Nathan returned. "We go down."
"That looks like all o' twenty feet, at least!" Cait commented. "Unless you feel like limpin' on away at the bottom."
"No one's limping," said Nathan. "I'll climb down, and then you can jump down and I'll catch you."
"You sure you can climb down that?" Piper asked.
"Shouldn't be much different to basic training in the Army," he replied. Taking off his duffle-bag and setting aside Righteous Authority, Nathan flung his legs over the edge of the hatch and swung there idly for a few seconds. Then, kicking his legs back, he pushed himself off and leaped onto the lip of the second level below. He was now halfway down. Repeating the step with the second opening, he made the much shorter drop down to the third and lowest level.
"I'm down!" he called up. "Who's coming down first?"
"Uh-uh," Cait said, shaking her head. "I ain't jumpin' into yer arms t' let ye cop a feel. I'll make me way down same as ye."
"Can you make it?"
But Cait made no further answer. Instead, she was already dangling her legs over the edge of the first hatch. But though she was nimbler than Nathan, she was not as swift in the descent. She clung to the lip of the hatch until her fingers turned paler than before, and looked down periodically to see where she was going to put her feet. When at last she swung herself down onto the second level, her footing was uneven and it was only the swift grabbing of a wall pipe that saved her from falling down the rest of the way. Once she had recovered from the shock of nearly slipping, she made her way to the edge of the second hatch to try her luck.
"It's not that far to drop now," Nathan said, stepping back apace as her feet went over the edge. "You can make it from there if you hang from the edge."
"I know, I know," she replied. "Gimme some room, and stop starin' at me arse."
Cait now turned around and hung from the second edge for a few seconds before she too let go and landed on her feet with a smile and a chuckle. She then went down the hall to check things out while Nathan stepped back under the opening for the others.
"What about you?" he asked Piper.
"Oh, no way I'm climbing down that," Piper chuckled.
"Well, you have to," said Nathan. "Or you could jump. Otherwise, you'll have to go back alone."
Piper let out a squeal and peeped over the edge, trying to judge how safe it was to make the leap down into Nathan's arms. Instead, she decided to send their gear over first. Stuffing the laser rifle into Nathan's duffle-bag, she dragged it over to the hatch with both hands and slid it down. Nathan caught it and placed it to the side, then turned to look back with his arms held out.
"Are you ready?" he asked again.
"Eh, just give me a minute!" Piper begged. She rose up and paced the floor, while Dogmeat walked over to the edge and looked down. Nathan held out his arms and called for Dogmeat, whistling and making clicking sounds with his tongue. Before Piper could make a sound or try to stop him, the dog leaped down the hatch and landed in Nathan's arms. He placed Dogmeat down, despite him licking his face over and over.
"Come on, Piper!" Nathan urged. "You can make it."
"Well, if he caught Dogmeat, maybe he'll catch me," Piper muttered to herself. Warily, and with her lower lip held in place by her upper teeth, she began to slide her legs over the edge of the hatch. Then, to Nathan's surprise, he saw that she was going to land on him feet first. He tried to tell her off, but she had let go and her foot slipped on the edge of the second hatch. He held out his arms and caught her as she was falling, but the force of her body threw him to the ground with her whole body pressing on top of him. Their faces were almost nose to nose, and her green scarf was dangling against his chin.
It was the first time since before the bombs that he had been this close to a woman. He noticed very suddenly her scent: whether she knew of some way to cleanse herself in this post-apocalyptic world, or her body odor was not strong, she smelled of something that reminded him of...home. Nora had been very meticulous about her perfume and always smelled of roses; but this smell was different, almost reminding him of his mother's chicken soup from when he was a child. That earthy, wholesome smell of meat in boiling stock.
"Thank you," Piper breathed.
"Yeah, don't mention it," Nathan groaned. Piper's whole weight was on top of him, especially on his groin. For a moment, she did not move, only looked down at him breathlessly.
Suddenly Cait cleared her throat loudly and threw Piper's hat into her face: it had slipped off her head when she had fallen onto Nathan. Taking her cap, Piper climbed off of Nathan, apologized sheepishly, then placed her hat back onto her head. Nathan grabbed the duffle-bag and took Righteous Authority out from it, then took point and led them into the lowest level of the vault.
Now the sound of Nathan's Pip-boy radio was nothing but static: no signal this far beneath the earth. They went on down the deserted corridors, with Dogmeat following on behind. If there were more Triggermen, they were not coming after them. Perhaps, this far down in the Vault, the sounds of above could not be clearly made out. But as they progressed, they became aware of voices echoing from farther on ahead. Nathan paused and made his way towards a closed sliding door with the words 'Vault 114' painted upon them. He heard one voice, clear and full of bravado, and heavy with the Bostonian accent.
"How you doin' in there, Valentine?" the voice said. "Ye feelin' hungry?"
Another voice spoke: stoic and even, but in a clear voice. It almost reminded him of Bogart from the holo-tapes of old films from the 20th century he used to watch as a child.
"Keep talking, Dino," said the second voice. "You'll give Skinny Malone plenty of time to figure out how to bump you off."
"Don't gimme that crap, V!" the one called Dino replied. "You ain't got shit! You know nuthin'!"
"Really?" asked the second voice. "I saw him writing your name in that black book of his. 'Lousy cheating card-shark' were his exact words; then he struck the name off three times."
"I don't think they know we're here," Nathan whispered to the others. "I'll go in and see what's up."
He pulled the lever and the door slid open. Inside was a large room with two stories: it looked like a prison cell, but with no bars. There were plenty of lights still running down here, and he could see everything. On the far end of the room, on the second level - the level above his - he could see a lone Triggerman, Dino, standing in front of a glass mirror. What appeared to be a very pale man in a trench coat and fedora was standing behind the mirror, as still as a board. Nathan crawled over and took Righteous Authority out and aimed it at the Triggerman.
"Three strikes in the black book!" gasped Dino. "I...I ain't never...Oh, shit! I gotta smooth is ovah..."
Nathan lined Dino up in his sights and squeezed the trigger as a blast of red light burst from the muzzle of Righteous Authority. Dino screamed aloud and then fell to the floor, a hole burned through his back with the blast.
"We're clear!" Nathan shouted.
The others stood up and followed him as he ran across the hall, found the stairway, and ascended to the second level. When he came to the glass window, he saw that the man inside had turned around and he could not see his face. But the back of his head, barely visible between the brim of his fedora and the collar of his jacket, was especially pale. Only a day or two and already he was looking this pale? Perhaps he had been poisoned and needed to be rescued at once. He went to the door leading to the room where the pale man was imprisoned, and found that there was no latch to open it. To the right of the door, against the wall, was a computer terminal.
Here Nathan was stuck. The Museum of Freedom had ware and tear on the keys and had been relatively easy to guess the password. This one, far underground in a Vault, had no such stains. He might spend hours trying to guess what the correct password was, and be locked out over and over.
"I don't know who you are," the voice of the occupant inside the room called out. "But we've got three minutes until they realize 'muscle for brains' ain't coming back. Get this door open."
"I'm trying!" Nathan retorted, as he pressed a key on the terminal. 'Please enter password' appeared onscreen. He looked around and tried to find some hint of what the password might be: maybe some letters printed or scratched on the side.
"You need to get in?" Piper asked.
"I don't know the password," Nathan sighed.
"I've heard that some of these terminals can be hacked pretty easily," Piper muttered. "Unfortunately, I'm not much for all that computerized stuff; good ol' pen and paper for me."
"What about you?"
"Me? Are ye daft?" Cait laughed. "They dunnae teach ye tech-shite in the Combat Zone...or in the wastes outside." There was something uncharacteristically grim about the way Cait said that last bit that made Nathan curious.
"Wait!" Piper spoke up, as she was rummaging through Dino's coat. "If that bozo was keeping Nicky locked up in there, then maybe he's got the password somewhere." At last she pulled out a security card and gave it to Nathan. Upon the card was written the password, which he put in at once. No sooner had he been let in, but he moved down with the keys to select the manual release for the door lock.
The door opened and Nathan walked into the dimly lit room. Then he froze, and gripped tightly to the hand-grip of his weapon. The man in the coat and fedora approached him and lit up a cigarette. The flickering light showed that the face, which he had taken to be deathly pale, was not human at all: it was the pale gray face-plates of the synths he had encountered at ArcJet with Paladin Danse, only dirtier and with more dings and scratches. The artificial skin around the neck was almost completely gone, and Nathan could hear the whirring of gears and servo-motors. The most unnerving parts about him were his hands and his eyes. The left hand still had its pale-gray, beaten and scratched false skin, while the right hand was a thin metal skeletal hand of bony steel fingers. The eyes were yellow: not the natural yellow of a wild animal, but the mechanical glow of a halogen lamp.
"I take it you're my knight-in-shining-armor," the machine said; the voice sounded the same as he had heard before, little to nothing artificial about it. "Question is, why did he come all of this way and risk his neck for an old private eye?"
"What the hell are you?" Nathan asked.
"I told you, I'm a detective," replied the machine, as its metal hands removed the cigarette from its lips. "Look, I know the fake skin and metal parts ain't comforting, but it's not important right now. The only thing that matters is why you went through all this trouble to cut me loose."
"Hey Nicky!" Piper spoke up.
"Piper," the machine said, a grin appearing on its face. "Fancy seeing you here. Thought you'd be out chasing a story."
"That's why I'm here, actually," Piper replied. "Chasing the story of the century."
"And this guy here," the machine said, turning to Nathan. "You still haven't answered my question. Why are you here?"
"It's...complicated," Nathan replied. "Your secretary told us that we could find you here, so we decided to come and rescue you."
A smirk appeared on the machine's face. "Ellie's responsible for my rescue, then? I outta give her a raise. Now, listen, as I said, we gotta get out of here quickly. Turns out the runaway daughter I was hired to track down wasn't kidnapped; she's Skinny Malone's new flame, and she's got one hell of a mean streak." The eyes seemed to turn and contract, almost as though there were something resembling thought.
"Anyway," it concluded. "You've got problems and I've got problems; I'd be glad to help, but now ain't the time. Let's blow this joint, then we'll talk."
"I take it you're Nick Valentine, then?" asked Nathan.
"In the flesh," the machine added with a wiry grin. "Well, most of it, any way."
The party now followed Nick the robot sleuth as he led the way back through the hall. Dogmeat was staying close to Nick while Nathan eyed it suspiciously. He had had a rough time of it with synths back at ArcJet, and what Paladin Danse had said about them still rung in his ears. No matter how homey and 'safe' Nick's voice was, it was still a machine. As they were leaving, it stopped by Dino's body and lifted the Thompson off the ground that he had dropped when he was shot.
"Hmm," mused Nick. "Not exactly a pipe pistol, but it'll do."
They went back down the stairs they had gone when all of a sudden there were voices heard in the hall beyond.
"How many of them are there?" Nathan asked.
Valentine leaned out to peer out the open porthole. "About a dozen goons. Enough to mop the floor with us. We can do this however you like."
"I say we go in hot," Cait whispered. "Gun the fuckers down a'fore they know what's comin' t'em."
"Subtlety must not be your thing," said Valentine. Cait cracked a grin, but Nathan said nothing.
"Do you have any ideas, Nicky?" Piper asked.
"I know one," Nick replied. "Worked on a gang of raiders once. Might work this time. Stay here and don't come out until I say so." With that, Nick put down his Thompson and walked out into the hall. His hands weren't up and there was no expression on his pale face. Within moments, the Fingermen spotted him.
"Hold it right there, synth!" one shouted.
"Error: command override," said Valentine. "Self-destruct sequence initiated."
"He's bluffin'!" another one shouted.
"I'm afraid not, bucko," Valentine replied. "I've been rigged to blow. Time minus fifteen seconds and counting." Then the synth detective began beeping.
"Ice it!" another Fingerman ordered.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Valentine warned. "One shot and my core explodes with the force of a mini-nuke. Ten seconds and counting. Beep. Beep. Beep."
"Mothafucka!" a fourth Fingerman exclaimed. "Skinny don't pay me enough for this shit!"
"We have our odahs!"
"You wanna be dead or turned into a ghoul? Not me, I'm outta here!"
With that, the Fingermen ran back the way they came faster than one could blink. Then, to the amazement of Nathan, Nick actually laughed. It was so strange, hearing a distinctly human sound coming from a machine. It was not the programmed "ha. ha." of a Protectron, with which he was at least vaguely familiar: it sounded like a genuine chuckle he could have heard from your average fellow on the street.
"You can come out now," he said.
The three humans and the dog walked out of their hiding place to find Nick standing alone in a room that had once been full of twelve Fingermen. Now they were nowhere to be found: no bodies, no spent shell-casing, no bullet holes, no blast marks, no signs of struggle, nothing. They seemed to have all vanished.
"Bloody hell!" Cait exclaimed. "Where are they?"
"Oldest trick in the book," Nick replied. "Hardest part is to keep from laughing when they trip over themselves to run away."
"I can't believe that actually worked!" Nathan stated.
"People are so afraid of synths, they'll believe anything about them," Piper added.
"Let's hope the next thugs we face will be just as gullible as these goons," Nick stated.
"You have a problem with fighting?" asked Nathan.
"It's a bit complicated," Nick began. "But essentially, most people think that robots have some kind of rules hardwired into their noggins that keeps them from harming humans or allowing humans to come to harm. Problem is, synths don't have that rule."
"Are you saying you could kill us at any moment?" asked Nathan, starting to feel that he had foolishly let his guard down upon hearing this machine laugh.
"Look, I know this is a lot for you to swallow," Nick said. "Believe me, I don't even know the half of it - and it's my brain! But suffice it to say, I won't go around killing random people. There's always another way out of problems that doesn't involve violence."
"That kinda talk is a sure fire way t' get yerself shot in the arse," Cait commented.
"Well, it's a good thing my ass can take a few more hits than all of yours, isn't it?" Nick replied.
"So you won't fight?" asked Nathan.
"No offense, kid, but we just met," Nick replied. "I'm not about to download my memories onto a holo-tape and plug it into that thing on your arm. Maybe after we're outta here, once I have a chance to see just who you are, maybe I'll tell you. If push comes to shove, I will fight: but right now, it'd be best not to."
Nathan agreed, and led the way back through the hall. But as they went, he was perplexed by what he had encountered. Of course, the idea that synths had no subroutines preventing them from harming life was obvious from his encounter at ArcJet. Doubtless if Danse were here, he would use this as evidence that synths were worthless and deserved being blown to bits. Nevertheless, the idea that a robot could act independent of its programming to protect, even value, human life was something bizarre to Nathan. It could not leave his mind, no matter how much he tried to dismiss it.
They carried on through the Vault, encountering very little along the way. As they could not climb out the way they had come, they found a secondary tunnel which led up to the surface. Unfortunately, it was locked and required a password to open. The terminal had no marks, scratches, stains, or any indication that could give them a clue about the proper password. But Nick Valentine was not so easily stumped. He walked over to the terminal and, with his skeletal right hand, inserted a wire into the terminal.
"What are you doing?" asked Nathan.
"Opening the door," Nick replied. "It's a simple process of finding the correct sequence of 0s and 1s in order to make just about any computer do exactly what you want." A beep sounded and the door slid open.
"Open sesame," Nick added with a wiry grin. Nathan chuckled.
They hurried on ahead, going up so many flights of stairs that Nick made a comment about the Vault designer being a fitness enthusiast. It baffled Nathan as to why a robot would say this, as they never got tired. Yet, by and by, they were making their way up to the level of the subway: the level just below ground, which connected again to the entrance. But as soon as they passed through, they found themselves facing the twelve Fingermen again. They were not fearful now, for their Thompsons were all aimed at the small group. At the head of the group was a very tall fat man in a suit with a Thompson of his own, and a shorter woman in a purple sequin dress with a baseball bat in her hands.
"The hell are you doing, Nicky?" asked the fat man. "You come to my house, threaten to blow up my guys: do you have any idea how much this is gonna set me back?"
"Skinny," Nick replied. "We both know I wouldn't be here at all, if it weren't for your two-timing dame. You outta tell her to write home more often."
"What's a matter, Valentine?" asked the woman. "You ashamed you got beat up by a girl? What you gonna do, carry me back home to daddy?"
"This ain't the old neighborhood, Nicky," Skinny threatened. "In this Vault, I'm king of the castle. You shoulda left it alone, cuz I ain't letting some private dick shut me down now I gotta good thing goin'."
"I told you we shoulda just killed him!" snarled the woman. "But you had to get all sentimental, talkin' all that crap about the good times!" She scoffed.
"Hey, I'm handlin' this, Darla," Skinny said to the woman at his left. "Skinny Malone's always got things under control."
"Is that so, fatso?" Darla, the woman asked. "Then what's this guy and his gal-pals doin' here? Valentine musta brought 'm here to rub us all out!"
The group froze in place. Cait was fingering the baseball bat in her hands and sizing up the woman Darla. Piper was eying the hall, looking for cover in case the Fingermen got violent. Dogmeat was crouched down, fur bristling, teeth barred, growling at the Fingermen. Nathan's hands were on Righteous Authority, and his eyes were on Skinny and Darla. But Valentine was already formulating a plan: his positronic brain was capable of computing nearly as fast as the human brain, and did not have the problem of "forgetting" key events.
"The Quarry," he whispered into Nathan's ear.
"What?" he replied.
"Tell Skinny about Lily June on the rocks," said Nick.
"This is gettin' nowhere, Skinny!" Darla growled. "Ice 'em!"
"Wait!" Nathan spoke up in a loud voice. He lowered his weapon and turned to the fat man. "Remember the Quarry, Skinny. Lily June on the rocks? Ring any bells?"
"Wha..." stammered Skinny, a dumbfounded look on his round face. "How the hell did you know about..." He grimaced, then lowered his Thompson. "Stand down, boys. They're free to leave." He then pointed a thick finger at Valentine. "But I'm warnin' you: if you're not outta my face in ten seconds, I'll rub the lotta you out. Don't care about what happened in the old days."
Piper turned to Nathan, a sly grin on her face. Cait was surprised, though her lips were still curled in a frown. Nathan then made his way past the Fingermen, and the others followed behind him. As they were leaving, they could hear Darla chewing out Skinny. And, to their amazement, he was not taking it.
"The hell you doin'? Kill 'em, Skinny!"
"No, Darla, they get a chance to leave," replied Skinny. "I'm puttin' my foot down." She mumbled something about her mother and ran away in a sulk. Suddenly Skinny cocked his Thompson and shouted "Ten!" in a loud voice.
But by this time, the group was already past the Fingermen and heading out the door of the Vault. Valentine led them down a side corridor where he claimed was a service ladder that led to the surface. Following on behind him, they found the ladder and began climbing up and up to the top. Since Dogmeat could not climb the stairs, Nick gave Piper his duffle-bag and held Dogmeat in his left arm while he climbed with his right. At the top, Nick's mechanical strength lifted the man-hole cover with ease and opened the way to the surface. Nathan rose up next, and let Dogmeat climb out of his arms as he sat on the ground to take wind: Cait came up after him, and she was smiling. Last came Piper, huffing and puffing with the duffle-bag.
"Geez, Blue!" she sighed. "What do you have in here, a body?"
Nathan laughed, but his eyes were on the stoic, unwearied synth. For all that he had heard, and agreed, with Danse's assessment of synths, he knew here and now that they wouldn't have been able to get out of the Vault without his help.
"Thanks, Valentine," he said.
(AN: So there we go: our heroes break free and Nathan is only a little bit unsettled by the one friendly synth he's met so far. I referenced Asimov's Laws, which I believe would not have written into the programming of their synths. Although the whole "sentient synths" thing becomes a head-scratcher once you start thinking about the mechanics behind it. Definitely something worthy of discussion, which I may carry out in this story.)
(I'm amazed at how many people are still liking and following this story. All of that has given me the drive to publish another chapter, since most of my energies have been toward writing my official series [and not even playing Lord of the Rings Online! Sad, I know!]. Thankfully, after many long months, I have finally give you a chapter update! Hope you like it.)