Chapter 16: War Games
The next evening, Nora scrutinized the Gen-2 synth who sat directly across from her in the Directorate meeting room. DiMA looked right back at her; his expression was pleasant but enigmatic and vague. Around them sat the rest of the Directorate: Dr. Secord, Dr. Filmore, Dr. Binet, and Dr. Holdren and they all looked expectantly at Nora to begin the meeting.
She cleared her throat. "I wish I had better news for all of you but I can only tell you the reality of what we are about to face."
Her bottom teeth worried across her upper lip as she thought sifted through the overflowing mental file of all that she experienced and witnessed in the last few days.
"While I was imprisoned, Dr. Li managed to slip me some key intel about her work on Liberty Prime." She fished out a warped and formerly waterlogged folded paper from her pocket. Dr. Li's sharp, neat handwriting was clear despite the fact that the ink bled slightly from the water damage. The bottom left corner was completely soaked with blood — Nate's blood — and she closed her eyes and blocked out the intrusive thoughts that threatened to sweep through her mind.
"I can take that." Dr. Binet gently offered. "Madison and I worked together regularly and aside for her assistant, Rosalind, I have the most experience with Dr. Li's work."
Nora slid the paper over to the scientist and she cleared her throat. Under the unforgiving fluorescent lights, the faint bloodstain on the paper looked fresh. Nora grimaced as the scent of Nate's blood filtered back into her nostrils and she tucked her hands beneath her arms to protect them from the encroaching Commonwealth cold.
"… Nora?" Dr. Filmore asked. "Are you okay?"
"Hmm?" Eight pairs of eyes … well ten, including DiMA's, watched her warily and she flushed from the sudden attention. "Uh. Yeah. Sorry. I just haven't slept all that much recently."
She shook her head and the smell and the chill disappeared and Nora was fully back in the Directorate meeting room again.
"Uh. As I was saying. The Brotherhood of Steel will likely march on us within a week, if not sooner. While on the Prydwen, I was interrogated by Elder Maxson before being imprisoned, and he seems convinced that me leading the Institute as its Director spells danger for the rest of the Commonwealth. Before we activated the reactor, the Institute wasn't a threat to the Brotherhood, but now —"
"— now they want to cut off our literal and metaphorical heads before we get a chance to strike back." Dr. Binet replied grimly.
"Exactly." Nora agreed. "Even with the sabotage done on Liberty Prime, they will march on us with their entire force so we have to be ready for it. They have hundreds of fully trained soldiers at their command, while we have several dozen willing, able bodies ready to fight. The numbers aren't looking good for us."
"So are you saying that we've already lost?" Dr. Secord interrupted.
Nora leveled a somber gaze at the normally venomous woman. "I am saying that we need to consider the real likelihood that the Brotherhood will breach the Institute's defenses even despite Dr. Li's sabotage of Liberty Prime."
Dr. Holdren spoke up, "We've been protected and secluded by these walls for over a century. Surely the Brotherhood —"
Nora shook her head, "— The Brotherhood knows that all they need to do is dig a few dozens meters down outside the CIT ruins and they'll bust into the Institute like they're busting into an ant hill."
Dr. Secord let out an impatient noise that sounded like a feline growl, "So what? We can't just surrender! I don't know about you, but I'm not one to give up so easily. The Institute is my home! I'd rather die than see it destroyed by a group of raiders."
"I'm not saying we should, but we also have to deal with the very real possibility that many people will die!" Nora's hard voice filled the room. "To counteract that fact, I'm trying to save as many lives as I can but we need to be pragmatic about this. I'm no military tactician but I know people who are. If the Railroad can —"
"Oh here we go again!" Dr. Holdren drawled sarcastically. "Those toaster-lovers are nothing more than glorified terrorists! And we —"
"— And we need those glorified terrorists to give us even a fighting chance at surviving this!" Nora snapped. Then she directed her question to Dr. Filmore, "How many people do we have currently living in the Institute?"
"At this moment, we have fifty-three human scientists, but I'm not sure on the exact number of synths without looking into some of the SRB's files."
"I have that information." Dr. Binet interjected and he sifted through a manila folder full of triplicate forms, spreadsheets, and charts full of alphanumeric code, "Including the Coursers who accepted reassignment, the Gen-2 janitorial and food production workers, and the Gen-3 laborers, we have 109 total active synths."
"What about Gen-1s?" Nora asked.
Dr. Secord sighed and pulled out an equally thick manilla folder and read from packet of compiled information: "Out in the Commonwealth we have maybe 300 units spread throughout Boston. I'd wager that 20% are either outside of our signal range now and are unreachable and another 15% have been destroyed by enemy fire, feral ghouls, or animal attacks."
"What about the ones we have here?" Nora asked.
Dr. Secord shrugged, "We have as many as you'd like — five hundred units … maybe more. The director before Father spent most of his tenure building up our Gen-1 synth defenses. That's partly what put us into a resource shortage as once we upgraded our units to Gen-2s, we had very little use for them other than as a literal skeletal crew for maintenance and recognizance."
DiMA shifted in his seat, "May I offer my advice?" His voice was soft and almost melodious.
"Go ahead." She replied.
"Like the rest on your council, I am doubtful about how helpful the Railroad can be. I don't like that they — a group that says they help synths — convinces them that their only option is to lose their entire identity and hide. They may volunteer for the memory wipe but they pay for their freedom with their identity."
"We need the Railroad's help." Nora insisted.
DiMA nodded. "By all means, let them fight with you but I simply ask that you consider an alternate plan for the synths rather than just releasing them into the Commonwealth unprepared and unprotected."
Nora realized that DiMA had a point. The Railroad had worked tirelessly securing safehouses all across the Commonwealth, but their work only amounted to five or six secure locations. That wouldn't be enough to accommodate over 100 newly freed synths. They'd all need food, supplies, and weapons. They'd need to have jobs secured for them lest they turn raider like Gabriel.
"Then what do you propose?"
"Allow me to bring them back with me to Acadia. The Island is no less dangerous than the Commonwealth but we've managed to carve out a section that is free of Fog and has arable land for farming. Acadia is a refuge and the synths who come with won't have to hide or change their identity. They will be welcome for who and what they are."
The consternation that DiMA's request garnered from four-fifths of the Directorate was both profound and defining. Dr. Binet shot Nora an apologetic look which she returned with chagrin.
Then Nora stood up, brought her thumb and index finger to her mouth and let out a shrill whistle.
"Enough!" She commanded.
Much to her surprise, the entire group calmed down and looked at her. The annoyance and ire that bubbled in her guts would only add to this smoldering trash fire if she let any of it go. So she tapped into the stoic calmness and reserve that she had once seen her son use when the Directorate meeting had a similar reaction to appointing her his successor.
"I will not tolerate any more infighting. Disagreement is natural and I promise that I will hear your complaints, but if we stand any chance at fighting the Brotherhood then we need to stop tearing each other's god damned throats!"
"I am not your enemy and please believe that I did not come here to create dissent among you all." DiMA said softly. "But all of you are scientists, rational thinkers, can't you see the value of independent synth life? You all have the opportunity to see how wondrous that can be. Don't squander this opportunity that Nora is giving you. Take a chance to see how wondrous synth independence can be."
"This is complete bullshit!" Dr. Secord seethed. "Synths are not people. You were created to be tools for humanity not an extension of it. I cannot sit idly by while you make a mockery of everything Father had created. I'm resigning effective immediately."
Nora leveled a steely gaze at the blond-haired woman. "I will accept your resignation Alana and I'd be lying if I said that I was sorry to see you go. But you must understand that until this war resolves, you will not be permitted to leave the Institute. You are a security risk. You have intimate knowledge of how the Institute operates, and I can't risk the fact that you could give this information to the Brotherhood to hurt us. I'm sorry."
Dr. Secord's enraged look paled when Nora spoke her command into her wrist communicator.
"Please escort Dr. Secord back to her private quarters. She is to be confined there until further notice."
"Affirmative." X6 said over the communicator although he wasn't all that happy about it.
The former Courser came into the meeting room wearing a normal Institute uniform rather than Courser leathers and he still looked formidable and intimidating. Dr. Secord left without protest and the entire Directorate seemed to relax a bit.
Nora sank back into the chair. "Are there any other staffing changes that I should know about before we proceed?" She asked wearily.
Dr. Holdren shifted uncomfortably in his seat but said nothing while Dr. Binet and Dr. Filmore simply shook their heads.
"Good. Then let's table this discussion until tomorrow morning." Nora replied. "DiMA. I'll consider your request and have an answer for you by then, if that's alright with you."
"Of course." He replied.
"Thank you. Until then, you're all dismissed."
Nora waited until the other three scientists filtered out of the room before she stood up. DiMA followed her lead and followed her out of the meeting room.
She didn't say anything until they reached her private quarters, but instead of going inside, she walked through the automatic doors that led to the shared balconies and fished a pack of cigarettes from her pocket.
Nora started smoking the night after Synth Nate had died. She found one of Hancock's packs in the Starlight Drive In and she took them with her when she came back to the Institute. She could almost feel his silent approval as she gave into her vice once again. But with Nate gone, she didn't have a good reason not to smoke anymore. And to hell with it all: smoking made her feel good. There were too few things in this world that she could say that about.
Nora pulled a cigarette from her pack, lit it with a flip lighter she had left on the balcony railing, and exhaled a stream of thin grey-white smoke.
"I'm sorry you had to see that." Nora said quietly. "I wish that would've gone better."
DiMA didn't look at her. Instead he stared out at the Institute's atrium and watched the workers and synths go about their duties.
"They are scared." He said. "These scientists have never known what it's like to be threatened before. They are not used to how fear feels."
Nora scoffed and took another drag off her cigarette. "Lucky them."
She felt DiMA's eyes on her when she said that and she turned to meet his gaze. DiMA's eyes were identical to Nick's, and although his face was smoother and less weatherbeaten, Nora noticed that DiMA's eyes held none of Nick's warmth. His eyes looked truly mechanical and almost alien.
"You are afraid too." He assessed.
"I'm always afraid." She remarked and flicked her cigarette on the edge of a ceramic ashtray. "If you live in fear long enough, you get used to how it feels I guess. But it doesn't stop the feeling from sitting in my brain like some parasite."
"Are you afraid that you will die?" He asked softly.
Such a blunt and direct question threw Nora off.
"No." She responded automatically. And then she actually considered what she was scared of them most.
Nora thought back to the Brotherhood vertibird they hijacked and the jubilant chaos of fighting. Running away from the Brotherhood as Synth Nate shot them out of the sky had been sort of fun in retrospect. Well…fun until they crashed in the lake. It was fun until the synth clone of her husband bled out in front of her and died on the shore. It was fun before she had to sneak her way through half the Commonwealth while an entire army's worth of soldiers were hunting her down. The Commonwealth was a disturbing blend of macabre beauty and blood-curdling terror; she just wished that the consequences weren't so dire.
She sighed and rested her lit cigarette in the ashtray. "No. I'm not scared of dying as much as I'm scared that something will happen to Nick. If he died…well…I just…I couldn't…"
DiMA looked at her and Nora caught his gaze. He didn't look surprised, in fact, he looked like he had been expecting that answer.
"He has the same fear about you too."
"He does?"
DiMA nodded, "He said you've had a few close calls already. He told me about your close call with a deathclaw and about being stabbed with a poisoned blade by a madman."
Nora felt slightly irritated but she couldn't pinpoint exactly why. What right did Nick have to go and blab personal things about her to a complete stranger? That move sounded more like something Piper would do."
"Well did he also tell you I tried to kill myself…twice actually?" She spat.
"He did not." DiMA said in an even tone.
Nora's ire tempered a little at that and her irritation cooled to become uncomfortable shame. "Yeah, well…" She swallowed thickly. "I couldn't handle being here. Before I took over, this place was different — it was like a prison — and I fight the Directorate at every meeting to keep it from becoming that again. That blowup back there was nothing. I've seen worse. Hell, I've done worse. I wanted to wring that stupid bitch's neck but I promised myself that I'd be different than Father."
DiMA sighed regretfully, stood next to Nora, and looked down at the people and synths below. "How did they hurt you?"
Nora's voice caught in her throat. Dammit, she thought. Her voice became hollow when she spoke, "How didn't they? Father manipulated me. He imprisoned me here and made me work as one of their Coursers. I have this scar from the cybernetics they drilled into my skull so they could control me and keep tabs on me. He threatened to kill my loved ones if I disobeyed. Then Dr. Secord's boss, the old leader of the SRB, he … raped me —" she swallowed the words down like they were bitter poison "— and Father took his side. A young man who used to live here helped me escape but I didn't think I was worth anything anymore. They damaged me; Hell, they damn near broke me, and I thought that Nick deserved better."
"Who is 'He'?"
"My son." Nora said.
She looked at the holographic gravestone that sat in the center of the atrium. The iridescent Vitruvian Man was the only image inscribed there. No name, no birth or death date; Shaun's legacy was boiled down to one thing: The Institute.
"And you still feel like you can redeem them?" DiMA surmised.
"…Yes." Nora replied in shock. "How did you—"
DiMA smirked, "That much Nick did tell me. But he also told me that you and him argued over this issue."
"Nick doesn't think the Institute deserves to be protected after everything they've done to humans and synths."
"And you do?"
Nora's gaze fell on Dr. Binet and Eve as they walked through the atrium on their way to dinner. She thought back to how Dr. Binet believed his son's exile was a guaranteed death sentence and how relieved he was to learn that Liam hadn't only survived, but he thrived in the Commonwealth, and she spoke from her heart.
"I think there are people here who are misguided and have been taught to fear the Commonwealth because they know no other life outside of the Institute. Most of these scientists aren't bad people; they've worked under a bad leader…or several bad leaders. I want to at least give them a chance to do good. There are so many people struggling and dying in the Commonwealth; starvation, disease, and raider attacks happen all of the time. The Institute has the means to help others. The only way to atone for their past sins is to help out in any way they can."
DiMA was quiet for a solid minute but when he spoke, Nora heard a thin wisp of doubt in his voice.
"I created Acadia to be a refuge for synths, a place where they could come and be accepted as who and what they are. The citizens of Far Harbor reacted … poorly to our existence and despite Nick's assistance, it's been a struggle maintaining the peace. Violence against synths is a common occurrence and it's gotten to the point where Acadia's had to close its doors against the outside world. Don't mistake this as doubt Nora — what you are trying to do is admirable — but this type of peace and coexistence is counter to human nature."
"That doesn't mean we shouldn't at least try." Nora replied.
That made DiMA smile. "I can see why Nick likes you."
Another person cleared his throat and a smokey baritone spoke, "Hey now DiMA. 'Like' is a bit of an understatement, don't you think."
Nora spun around to face the doorway and there Nick Valentine stood, tan trench coat, dirty fedora, cigarette, and all. A whirlpool of emotions sent Nora's mind spinning. Nick was back! He came back to the Institute of all places. But how? Why?
DiMA nodded. "I suppose you're right, brother. I'm still struggling with the abstract concepts behind the word 'love.'"
"Don't worry. I'm sure Faraday can explain it to you if you ask." Nick replied and he shot Nora a conspiratory grin which was lost on her. "But now, If you don't mind, I'd like a word in private with Nora."
"I will be here for twelve more hours, Director. Should you wish to speak with me, I'll be in Dr. Binet's laboratory. I will await your decision on what I requested earlier."
He offered Nora his hand and she took it.
"Thank you. DiMA. I'm glad to have met you." Nora replied.
Once DiMA was gone, Nora felt the panic, jubilation, and fear rise up to her throat.
"Nick." She choked out. "W-what are you doing here?"
The synth's neutral expression darkened slightly at her question but he didn't take her eyes off her. "I'm here to bury the proverbial hatched, doll. I messed up."
"Nick, you don't—"
His sigh cut her off, "— Dammit Nora. I hate being mad at you. When I traveled to Acadia looking for DiMA, all I could ever think about was you. I had no idea if you were alive or how you were doing with all this shit, and when I got back —"
"— Nick, wait —"
"— I found out from Hancock that you had been kidnapped by the Brotherhood that you and Deacon crashed a vertibird, and —"
"— Nick! Please!" Nora pleaded but he shook his head.
"I should've been there for you Nora!" He yelled. "Goddamn it! I left you to do this alone like a goddamn coward and—"
Nora grabbed Nick's hand and dragged him back into her sleeping quarters less the entire fucking Institute hear their private affairs.
"You don't need to support the Institute Nick!" She urged. "It was wrong of me to ask that of you. I —"
"— I don't support them Nora, I support you." His voice crackled a little when he said it and the anguish on his face was palpable. "I love you Nora. I'm so damn sorry I left. I was a damn fool."
And like that, whatever tension and resentment that had been building between them was broken. Nora's shoulders slumped a little as a significant weight lifted from her chest. She let out a shuddering breath and slipped beneath his arms and held onto him.
She placed her hand and Nick's warm chest and felt his steady heartbeat beneath her palm. Nick was alive and he was here. That's all that mattered.
"I love you too Nick."
He cupped her cheek and bent down and kissed her. She caught the slight scent of the ocean air on his cracked grey skin and his lips tasted like salt and sweet cloves. Her hand slid down from his chest to encircle around his waist and she pulled him against herself. He let out a low sigh at the physical contact which only ignited the desire for physical contact that Nora had suppressed in lieu of more practical and pressing matters.
"Doll…" Nick groaned as her fingers skillfully pulled the bottom of his dress shirt out from his slacks.
The coquettish look she gave him made his internal temperature climb a couple of degrees. God he missed that look.
"I don't have any more meetings for tonight. I'm all yours if you want." She purred.
The heat behind those words and the sheer desire that crackled through Nick's body killed whatever witty response he had thought. All he could do was nod.
Nora walked over to a wall panel, punched in a four digit number and said, "Please set my room to secure. I do not want to be disturbed for the rest of the night."
"Of course, Mother." A deep bass voice responded. The green light above the panel turned red and Nora looked back at Nick.
The synth already took notice of the fact that she was limping slightly and she had contusions, several bruises, and had lost weight again.
"Doll, what happened since I was gone?" He asked.
She sighed, walked over to the desk and fished out another cigarette, and met Nick in the middle of the room. He had his lighter out before Nora could even ask and he lit her cigarette. She took a long drag off the filter and blew the smoke out through her nose and mouth.
"Do you want the whole story or the cliffs notes version?" She said.
"The whole story if you're up to it." He said.
Nora nodded and guided them to the couch. Nora leaned back and kicked her feet up and rested her legs across Nick's lap and she told him the entire story. He listened patiently and pulled Nora to his chest as she recounted Synth Nate's death. The fact that the Brotherhood had the gall to kidnap and imprison Nora was enough to make his circuits crackle with rage. But Synth Nate's death all the more tragic because his existence — like DiMA's and like Nick's — was because of unrestrained scientific progress. Synth Nate never had a chance to be anyone except the mere shadow of a dead man, yet that didn't mean Nora mourned him any less intensely than she had her late husband.
They spent nearly two hours wrapped up in each other fully clothed but far more intimate than the had been in a long time. After a while, Nora's heart thumped softly and steadily to indicate that she had fallen asleep. Nick set the half-filled ashtray on the end table and gingerly scooped Nora up in his arms. He carried her over to the bed but noticed that the pillows and blankets were spread out on the floor. A thick pad made out of pliable foam acted like a makeshift bedroll, but he didn't understand why Nora was sleeping on the floor when a perfectly good bed was a mere ten feet away.
"I get nightmares." Sleep slurred her voice. "I can't sleep alone in a bed anymore. Sleeping on the floor makes me feel more safe. 'S weird. I don' understand it."
"It's okay, doll." He murmured as he kicked back the covers and set her on the inch thick mat. "You're safe with me."
"I always am." She murmured as sleep took her once again.
Nick kicked off his shoes, undid his tie, slid his suspenders off his shoulders before settling in behind Nora's back.
He gently brushed back her brown hair and kissed the pink scar that ran from her temple to behind her ear.
"I love you Nora." He whispered. She grunted her affirmative response but didn't wake up. Nick draped his arm over her waist and slipped his other beneath the pillow she was using and just held her.
This woman had been burned and abused in all manner of ways and by all manner of people could still see the good in a group most considered irredeemable. He had met all manner of people ever since DiMA had rescued him from the Institute a century and a half ago, and in all that time, he had never met a person as driven, courageous, and compassionate as Nora.
Nora was a kind of woman that came along once in a lifetime. Pre-War Nick Valentine had Jenny but he, the synth Nick Valentine, had found Nora.
And Nora was the type of girl he could see himself marrying some day.