7
While they had spent time inside Craterside Supplies, night had drawn in. The town of Megaton had lit up like a Christmas tree, staving off the darkness. The multi-coloured string lights trailed along the paths and thoroughfares. Blinking neon signs twinkled and flashed outside the numerous businesses, starting to close for the night.
The citizens of Megaton still packed the thin paths and trails, moving this way and that, talking, arguing, flirting. From here, on the second level, Patience looked down upon them, a little sad and a little proud. The people of the world had suffered the greatest of disasters. Seen the world in flames, but they had continued. They had had children and their children had children. They had survived and, she hoped, one day they might thrive again
She switched off the radio on her Pip-Boy, not wanting to hear any more hyperbole about her, her actions, or her intentions. She had no intentions. Other than learning who she was and where she came from. The mysterious hidden vault that the DJ, Three Dog, had said he didn't know about.
With the revelations that Moira uncovered, Patience began to wonder if finding out about the vault she had emerged from was a good idea, after all. It seemed they had sent her out on some kind of mission, disfiguring her arm in the process, and having some kind of fail-safe in place. To kill her if she failed in her mission? To heal her if things went wrong? She rubbed her arm around the edges of the Pip-Boy. Ever since she had learned about the wires and tubes in her arm, it itched.
The sound of a lighter firing caused Patience to turn around. Valrie had joined her on the platform, tugging and scratching at the coveralls as if she had found them infested with fleas, cigarette dangling from her mouth. The older woman joined Patience at the railing, leaning almost double against it. She tapped ash from her cigarette over the side, then leaned further out to make sure she hadn't hit anybody with it.
"Comes to something when you get thrown outside to have god damned cigarette!" She picked an errant piece of tobacco from her tongue and flicked it aside. "Fucking sensitive equipment!"
"Her house, her rules." Patience smiled, but Valrie didn't seem to catch the smile but nodded at the words.
"See these fuckers?" She pointed at all the people walking through the town, cigarette held between two fingers, the tip glowing faint orange in the night. "None of them have the first fucking idea what they want from life. They get up, eat, go work or scavenge, come home, eat, maybe they get to fuck someone, maybe they don't, then they sleep. That's it. That's all they've got."
"There's a point to this, but I'll be fucked if I can see it." Patience took the cigarette from Valrie's fingers, receiving a sharp look from the older woman. She took a long drag and passed it back.
"The fucking point is, Miss Smart Mouth, that they got it worse than you. They've got nothing to aim for, nothing to learn, nowhere to fucking go! This is it! All they got." Valrie turned around, leaning with her back against the railing, elbows resting upon the top. "You, you got something to aim for. Find out who you are, why you were sent out of your vault. You have a purpose, even if you don't know what is. Jebus Aitch Christ, these fuckers would kill for half that."
"So, what you're really saying is, take my head out of my ass and get on with it?" Patience stood up straight, thrusting her hands into the coverall pockets. There was a hole in one.
"Figure you got me understood." Valrie dropped the almost dead cigarette and crushed it beneath her boot. "Listen, Moira says she's done all she can with that thing. She reckons, maybe, you could get more out of it if you took it to Vault-Tec headquarters."
"And where's that?" Patience lifted her arm and started switching through the options on the Pip-Boy, landing on 'Map'. The harsh green light from the screen making her face look distorted and monstrous.
"Downtown, in the D.C. ruins. I've no idea exactly where it is, though. That's as far as my knowledge can take you." Valrie gave Patience an odd, sideways glance. "And this is as far as I can take you."
"Oh. Right." It did come as a shock, even though Valrie had said all along that she would only bring her to Megaton. Valrie was a trader, she'd completed her trade and done everything that Patience had asked, and more. "Well, I guess this is goodbye, then."
"Not yet, you dumb fuck! I'm not leaving til morning." Valrie pushed herself up from the railing. "We're sleeping in the shop tonight. The Common Rooms are full and you've got no caps for staying at the saloon. And, when I do fucking leave, I don't want to hear no 'goodbyes', all right?"
Saying nothing more, Valrie headed back inside, leaving Patience alone on the platform outside the shop. It wasn't like she hadn't expected Valrie to leave, at some point. The problem was that she had become used to the cantankerous, foul-mouthed woman. She'd become the highlight of Patience's time in the Capital Wasteland and, for certain, Patience was going to miss her.
Patience knocked her knuckles against the railing and sighed. Tomorrow is another day, she thought.
Patience found herself woken up by a loud clatter of metal, plastic and other things falling to the floor. Moira, wearing tattered long-johns, her hair bunched up and sticking out in odd directions, wandered through the shop area, scratching the nape of her neck. The sleeping bag where Valrie had settled for the night lay empty, beside Patience, left in disarray.
"Oh. Morning. Sorry about the noise." Moira, somehow, noticed Patience had awoken, while sifting through a pile of, what looked like to Patience, junk. "I can't seem to find my insulated screwdriver. Oh, and Valrie's at the Brass Lantern, getting food for her trip home. She says she'll spot you a breakfast."
"Thanks." Patience rubbed her eyes and looked to her side, noticing her clothes, now dried, dumped on the floor beside her.
"You know, I've been thinking." Moira picked up a piece of metal and stared at it for a while, seeming to wonder what it was, before tossing it aside. "You'll be needing a map to get through downtown to get to Vault-Tec headquarters. The only person I know that might have one is Colin Moriarty, he owns the saloon. Only, he won't give it you for free."
"But, I don't have any money ... um ... caps." Patience dragged herself out of her sleeping bag and began getting dressed. "And I don't have anything to sell. Well, nothing that I don't need."
"I've been thinking about that, too." Moira scratched her armpit through a hole in the long-johns and sat on a small stool, looking at Patience for the first time. "I could always use more parts. Circuit boards, components and the like. You bring back whatever you find when you're in Vault-Tec HQ and I'll pay you for them and I'll give you a hundred caps as a sort of downpayment?"
"Will hundred caps be enough for this Moriarty guy?" Patience shoved a hand into the strapless top, adjusting her breast inside the tight, leather garment.
"Couldn't tell you, but it's more than you have." Moira shrugged, raising her hands. "Oh! And if you find any Super Mutant body parts I'll take those, also, especially brains."
"I'll look for components." It felt good to have her sidearm back on her hip and the assault rifle slung across her body. "I'll leave the body parts to others. Thanks."
"Okay. No problem." Moira didn't seem disappointed. In fact, since meeting her, Patience couldn't say she hadn't seen Moira without a smile on her face. She just seemed like a cheerful person. Moira looked down at her long-johns. "Oh. I thought I'd got dressed already."
Before disappearing into the back room to get dressed, Moira pulled out a small bag from behind the shop counter and gave it to Patience. Opening it, Patience found a tidy sum of caps, most like more than the hundred that Moira had promised. She hadn't even counted them before handing them to Patience. Patience considered that making a profit was not the highest priority in Moira's chaotic mind.
Outside the shop, the day had started with a fine mist trailing everywhere. It gave the town a dull sense of foreboding. Even the town's residents, so vocal and busy the night before, appeared subdued and quiet.
Patience found Valrie sat outside the Brass Lantern, throwing some kind of porridge-like paste down her throat, using a bent spoon. Noticing Patience arriving, she gave a curt nod and pointed to the seat beside her. Jenny, the woman behind the counter, straightened up and pushed her hair behind her ear upon seeing Patience.
"Now, don't go starting that flirtation nonsense again, Jenny!" Valrie used her spoon to point at Jenny. Jenny's face flushed. "Just let the girl eat."
"What's on the menu this morning?" Patience hitched up on to the tall seat, giving Jenny a little smile.
"Some kind of muck made from insects. Apparently, Mole Rat Burgers ain't a fucking breakfast item." Valrie gave Jenny a cold stare, even as she continued eating. "Insect muck for my friend here. Please."
"Thanks. I'll pass." Patience held up a hand before Jenny turned to call the order. "But I will have some of that not-coffee, please."
"So, any idea where you're gonna start? Going in to Vault-Tec?" Valrie held up two fingers, telling Jenny she'd like a not-coffee too. "Personally, after what you found out last night, I'd humbly suggest fucking off that death trap. Come back with me. I could use a bodyguard when I'm on my trading route."
"I would, but I'd always be wondering. I'd never be able to settle." She mouthed a silent 'thanks' to Jenny as the woman placed the not-coffee before her. Jenny grinned and dipped her eyes, blushing. "Moira says a guy called Moriarty might have a map to the HQ."
"Colin Moriarty?" Valrie slapped her hand on the counter, hitting it with the spoon. "She's sending you to that weasel faced fucker? God damn it!"
"Alright. So, I take it that this Moriarty guy is no good?" Patience raised an eyebrow at Valrie's outburst.
"No good? No fucking good?" Valrie adjusted her football helmet staring, with unrestrained anger, at the counter. "That fucker could split himself in two and they'd both try to fuck each other over. Or fucking kill each other and hide their own fucking body! No good? No, he ain't!"
"Well, I guess I'll just have to find a way to the HQ some other way." Patience took a sip of the not-coffee and almost didn't gag.
"No." Valrie sighed, bowing her head. "If anyone knows how to get there, it's him. Despite everything else, the man knows a lot of shit. Just don't fucking trust him! Don't ... Ah, hell! Fine! I'll come with you! God damn it! You're gonna be the death of me, girl."
Patience couldn't lie. Knowing Valrie would be there when she met this Colin Moriarty gave her a degree of comfort. She was still finding her way in the Capital Wasteland. Still had a lot to learn and, foul mouth or not, Valrie was a good teacher.
She just hoped this anger she had against Moriarty didn't spike the proceedings that were to come.
"The Brotherhood of Steel, fresh from kicking the Enclave in the collective ass are now battling their own.
The Outcasts, former Bee-Oh-Ess members, have clashed with their old compadres several times over the past few weeks with no clear winner in sight.
What does this have to do with you, dear listeners? Well, it seems neither side are too choosy about who may be around when the bullets, electricity and super-heated plasma are being thrown at each other.
So, here's some advice: If you see a throw-down between the Bee-Oh-Ess and the Outcasts, avoid them. If you can't avoid them, find the strongest cover and hide. And if you can't even hide, hit the deck and pray you don't get your ass shot off.
And if any Brotherhood or Outcasts are listening to this; Play nice, children. The Wasteland is hard enough without you fools making things worse for normal, everyday citizens just trying to survive.
As always, this is Three Dog telling you to be safe out there."
At any other time, Patience would have described Moriarty's Saloon as a dive, but, after seeing the rest of Megaton, it was clear the bar was in keeping with the rest of the settlement. Several tables spotted the room, along with accompanying chairs. A couple of patrons cradled whatever alcohol they had ordered this early in the morning.
At the rear, beside a set of stairs, two women and two men sat on chairs, waiting, hopeful. The bar, like the floor, was sticky and grimy. Even then, the bar top was being rubbed in fastidious fashion, with gusto, by a poor, disfigured creature.
"Don't stare." Valrie whispered as she saw Patience's open-mouthed look at the creature. "Ain't you never seen a ghoul before?"
"What happened to him?" Patience returned the whisper, more quiet than Valrie, horrified at seeing the poor creature. Skin seeming to have sloughed from its skull, what skin left resembling a putrid, sickly green. Eyes, without lids, staring, bloodshot. Nose half-rotted away.
"The Wasteland happened. Some people spend too much time around rads and they die horribly. Others turn into fucking ghouls. No longer human." Valrie pinched Patience's arm, hard, and it shook her out of staring at the ghoul. "His name's Gob. Just don't stare, alright?"
"Hello, Miss Valrie. Long time, no see." The ghoul, Gob, leaned against the counter. "What can I get you? We got the usual stuff, all kinds of alcohol. We got four whores now, two of each. Only hundred and twenty caps and room thrown in."
"We don't want no fucking whores, Gob. We want to see your fuck-face boss." Valrie's words almost seemed to make Gob flinch. He stopped leaning against the bar and stood up straight.
"Mister Moriarty is indisposed right now." The ghoul threw a quick glance at a door behind him, nervous. He leaned forward again in a conspiratorial fashion. "Please don't insult the boss, Miss Valrie, he takes it out on me."
"Not my fucking problem, Gob." Valrie took a shot glass, grabbed a bottle and filled the glass before knocking the drink straight back. "You should have run away to find your Mom when you had the chance. It's not my fault you stayed working for the ass-licking piece of shit."
"Valrie! I thought it was your dulcet tones I heard." A man emerged from the door behind the bar. A middle-aged man, with greying hair and a Van Dyke beard. Patience guessed this was Colin Moriarty. "And what brings you into my establishment, my lovely?"
"Don't 'my lovely' me, you rat bastard." Valrie grabbed the neck of the nearest bottle and, thinking she was about to throw it, Patience grabbed her arm. "Now, I'm not one to hold fucking grudges, you piece of shit, but I make exception for you."
"Grudges? My dear Valrie, there's no need for grudges." Without even asking Patience's name, he stood beside her and leaned against the bar, making a close examination, from head to toe. "Valrie, you see, thinks I welched on a deal. I did. I have to admit, but it was ten years ago. I moved on."
"Why are you telling me?" Patience didn't like the man. Straight away, she found a great distaste for him. She couldn't explain it. From the forced Irish accent, to the way he moved and the way he spoke. He reminded her of a snake.
"Because I'd get more sense out of this bar, than from Lovely Valrie, so, surely, I'd get even more from you and ..." His eyes roved up and down her body again. She almost expected him to lick his lips. "Well, look at you. You're far more interesting than that dusty old mare. No offence, Valrie dear."
"I need information. I'm told you might have it." Patience dropped her hand to her sidearm. She had spotted the silhouette of another man through the door Moriarty had emerged from. An armed man.
Moriarty slapped the bar in dramatic fashion and looked around at the four whores and two patrons.
"Straight to the point! I like that! Too many of these arses beat around the bush before getting to the fucking point." His head snapped back to Patience. "Information is a premium business, darling. What kind of information are you looking for?"
"A map. To get to Vault-Tec Headquarters." Moriarty's eyes narrowed and he drummed his fingers upon the bar top, several times. After a few seconds, he reached behind the bar and brought out a dusty bottle of whiskey. Taking two shot glasses with him, he turned back towards his office.
"Let's discuss this somewhere more private." The hand holding the shot glasses raised a finger. "Not you, Valrie. Just me and your girl here."
"Does that include the mouth breather with the .45 in your office?" Patience's hand remained on the butt of her sidearm.
Moriarty stopped, half-turned, and looked Patience up and down once more. Less lascivious this time, more calculating. She could almost see the calculations and strategies whirring through his mind. He made a half-impressed shrug and crooked his finger to Valrie, urging her to follow.
Patience didn't like this. She didn't like Moriarty and she didn't like the idea of going into a private office with him, whether Valrie was there or not. Valrie had been right, the man couldn't be trusted. That was clear and obvious, but, she felt, he was also a very dangerous man. Very dangerous, indeed.