A New Player

"You thought the collar was going to kill me," Sarah said. It wasn't a question.

Jack nodded with a small shrug.

Sarah settled opposite her. It had taken a good ten minutes to calm down after the beeping stopped, her neck feeling strangely light and naked without the heavy metal band. "Why did you hug me? It could have hurt you."

Jack suddenly looked a little embarrassed, grinning sheepishly at Sarah, before letting the smile drop when it wasn't returned. Jack shrugged again. "It was a...a spur of the moment thing. I gambled with your life, instead of testing the damn thing properly first. Chip told me I needed to test it on one of Shank's spare collars, but I saw you and it felt like fate. Until I thought I'd fucked it up. And then I just...I dunno. Wanted to share the repercussions."

Sarah gawked at her. "That's stupid."

Jack's smile returned, sad now. "Gage would say the same, if he knew."

Sarah shivered at being compared to him and folded her arms. She stared at Jack—really looked at her—and close up, by the dim light of the bathroom, realised how much Jack had been neglecting herself. Sarah bit her lip, wondering what Gage said or did to make her like this—because it had to be something to do with Gage. Sarah couldn't think of any other reason to bring on such a stark change.

Licking her lips, she asked, "Do you love Gage?"

Jack hung her head but didn't answer.

Sarah let the silence linger for a few moments, and then pressed on. "I heard you tell Mr. Corbett you were finished…?"

"You have a nasty habit of overhearing things you shouldn't," Jack snarled, her head snapping up to reveal eyes glittering with malice. "One day it will get you into trouble." She paused, her face smoothing out into a blank canvas. "We were never anything to begin with. He clarified that detail for me."

Sarah knew she was venturing on thin ice, but her curiosity got the better of her. "Is that why you haven't told him about...whatever it is you're doing?"

"Releasing the slaves," Jack replied, so bluntly Sarah could only stare. Emotions rushed in like the tide, drowning her with each wave—elation, at the freedom of so many people. Apprehension, that the slaves might be killed the moment they were free. And beneath it all, fear, though she couldn't quite say why.

"Does Mrs. Bossanova know the plan?" she asked, already suspecting the answer. Jack shook her head, and Sarah frowned. "But she was in the market today. I thought she'd…"

"You heard what I told Corbett, right?"

"Yeah. You said you were buying Chip. You said Mrs. Bossanova wanted him to join in with selling people."

"The boss approached me a few weeks ago and told me she wanted help 'acquiring' people." Jack's face screwed up like a brahmin eating a tato. "Told me I knew how the whole slave thing worked, so I'd have no trouble convincing them to go along with it." Her expression grew ugly. "No doubt Gage put the idea in her head; one last dig at me, where it hurts."

She sighed, drawing her knees up and hiding in them. "So I got my orders. And I did my best to avoid them. Everything from leaving the brothel to hiding on the outskirts of Nuka World—all the excuses I could muster. But in the end she found me, and I wasn't given a choice in the matter. I did it, or things would get...nasty. I had to put my people first." Jack lifted her head and looked at Sarah. "I suspect the boss came to the marketplace to check up on me—make sure I did as I was told." A sly smile spread across her lips. "But I'm ahead of her. She wants me to do her dirty work? I'm gonna sabotage the entire fucking thing right underneath her rotting nose hole."

"Is that why she hit me?" Sarah asked, feeling the stinging echo of the slap across her cheek. "She thought I would stop you from buying Chip?"

"Not too sure," Jack replied with a shrug. "Best guess is you were being an idiot and the boss had to save face. Nuka World is dangerous—slaves challenging the boss opens a door for the raiders to step through. Talk shit, she'll crush you back into your place, no matter how much she likes you."

"Likes me?"

"Sure. You're still alive, aren't you?"

Sarah blinked, unable to wrap her head around this. But all the talk of slaves brought another thought to the forefront of her mind. "Won't...won't Gage and Mrs. Bossanova get in trouble with the other raiders if the slaves leave? Won't they be killed?" She'd heard them argue about the topic enough to know it was true.

Jack considered her for a moment. "Didn't think you'd care."

"I don't," Sarah insisted hotly. "They're both horrible."

"Horrible enough to die?"

Sarah opened her mouth to retort and then closed it again. She'd almost said, "Yes," but that would make her like Gage. Instead she pouted, and in her most stubborn voice said, "No."

"Glad you agree." Jack stretched out, leaning back against the base of the sinks, her eyes staring into the distance.

"But then...why?"

"Because," Jack said, still not looking at Sarah, "I can't do this anymore. I can't let Nuka World exist as it is. It's a mini nuke waiting to explode, and I ignored what was going on here for…" She paused and swallowed, bowing her head. "I allowed this shit to happen. I shouldn't have. I should have left or done something about it. Well now I'm doing something about it, consequences be damned."

"What if Gage dies?"

"You let me worry about Gage," Jack snapped, glaring at Sarah. The topic was closed. Move on.

The question lingered on her mind, though. What if Gage died? What if Mrs. Bossanova died?

The moment the slaves escaped, the two of them would be exposed. She'd heard the complaints across Nuka Town, especially from the Disciples. The word 'favoritism' was in the air—the old lady had given the Bottling Plant to the Operators, and everyone knew Dry Rock Gulch was on the table as well. Most of the raiders weren't happy, and there were mutterings of "Taking things into their own hands."

How much time did Mrs. Bossanova have left? And did Sarah really give a damn? Her first thought was 'No.' The remains of Oswald, what had been done to him, sickened her to her core. But Mrs. Bossanova also hadn't actually killed him. And if Sarah was completely honest with herself, she never gave Mrs. Bossanova a full chance to explain everything. The old lady tried, but once Sarah heard the bare bones, she'd shook her off, demanding to be returned to Nuka Town. And Mrs. Bossanova listened.

In the grand scheme of things, no. Mrs. Bossanova didn't deserve to die.

But what about Gage?

Sarah thought of all the things he had done to her—the kicks and the punches—the collar he'd snapped around her neck. The way he spoke to and belittled her. The murder of Oswald.

But there was also his brutal honesty and determined grit. The belt she wore around her waist. The way he told her the truth about Oswald, even when she hadn't wanted to listen. And how he'd saved her from the raiders.

Sarah still didn't understand why he'd stepped in—risked so much for someone he clearly hated. The act took her completely by surprise, not least because staring down the barrel of Gage's gun was a frightening experience in itself. But even he'd seemed shocked by his own actions, and yet he'd carried on anyway, flying in the face of the market's sour mood...for her.

The bastard kicked her afterwards, though. A comfort, really, to know Gage hadn't completely lost his marbles.

He was an awful person. But he wasn't always awful to her. There were glimmers of kindness somewhere deep inside, and they showed best when he didn't think about what he was doing. Sarah twisted her mouth to the side. She couldn't say whether she liked Gage, but she didn't want him to die either. Especially not at the hands of someone as cruel as Nisha. And ultimately, if she wished such a terrible death on Gage, wouldn't she be as bad as him?

Sarah shivered. She looked at Jack, who was staring absently into space again. "Jack?"

"Hm?"

"When you free the slaves, will you take Gage and Mrs. Bossanova with you?"

She gave a short, barking laugh. "Gage would never abandon this place. It's his baby. He'd rather go down guns blazing, killing anyone who disrupted his little project, than running off back to the wastes like some common raider. It's his last chance to make it big and he knows it."

"Oh." Sarah bit her lip.

"As for the boss...I don't know. Maybe? She's had a taste of power and she likes it. Don't think she could stop if she tried."

"How are you gonna do it?" Sarah asked, her stomach tight at Jack's words. "How you gonna free them?"

"Deactivate the collars and help shepherd the traders out when I can, before anyone realises their numbers are dipping. Then take my own people and go."

"Sounds risky."

"It is. But the alternative is leaving them here. I can't do that."

Sarah considered this, and then saw the discarded device used to break her collar. She remembered the discussion she overheard between Jack and Chip when she first followed them into the bathroom, and the outline for the remote. "Who's Shank?"

Jack's face darkened. "You should know who Shank is. He's a slaver turned raider entrepreneur. Still supplies the collars and he's the only one who can remove them. But I...know a few things about collars too. I just needed someone to build a prototype deactivation remote for me that can be used over and over again."

"If you wanted a remote like Shank's, why didn't you just steal his?"

Jack shook her head. "Too risky. He'd notice it was missing. And besides, his version of the device is useless to me—it allows the collars to be deactivated, but only until they're on someone else. I want them shut down permanently, so they can be put back on with no chance of reactivation. That way the traders can leave without anyone stopping them. Why would they, when the raiders think the collars will explode if their slaves get too far away?"

Sarah stared at Jack. She'd really thought this all through.

"Anyway," Jack said, a genuine smile returning to her face, "onto more important things. What are we going to do with you?"

"With me?" Sarah stammered, her heart beat picking up. Had she been a test subject? Was she going to be killed for knowing the plan?

"Where do you want to go?" Jack continued. "Where is home? I can try and get you there, or at the very least send one of my people with you as an escort. I'd do it myself but…" She made a vague gesture towards the broken device again.

"I...I don't understand."

"Your collar is gone. You're free to leave Nuka World. Been a long time coming, huh?" Jack beamed at her.

Sarah's mouth fell open. Once again she realised how naked she felt without her collar, and her hands flew up to touch the band of metal no longer there. "I can go?"

"You can go."

Wiseman pushed to the front of her mind, smiling gently, his black eyes crinkled kindly in the corners. The way he always gave her extra tarberries at mealtimes, and the toys he found for Mr. Glass to repair. How he'd taught her to read and write, while her dad stayed in a gloomy slump. The letters she'd written at Kiddie Kingdom—the ones she kept hidden, folded neatly in her pockets—seemed to come to life, the corners poking through the fabric into her skin.

Then there was Deirdre, a 'nurse' before the war, but now a trader, and her friend Holly. Both of them had helped in the early days, when Sarah's skin peeled away, and her hair fell out, and her body burned. Deirdre had always reached out to others, even when they didn't want to be helped. Sarah remembered the way she'd saved Mr. Danse—a Brotherhood soldier who hated ghouls, alongside his friend, Quinn.

The kindness the Slog showed was without question or expectation.

But she'd left it all behind for a reason. Mr. Glass, alone in the dark, tears streaming down his face as he packed, a holotape of a little girl's voice playing on repeat in the background. She'd asked him what was wrong, and he'd turned away from her. So Sarah took his hand and never looked back.

Now Mr. Glass was dead, and she was so very alone.

Or was she?

Sarah thought of Mr. Corbett and Mackenzie—of Chip and Shelbie and Maddox. She thought of Buttercup the brahmin, of all of them, trapped inside the marketplace, at the mercy of the raiders. She hated to admit it, but despite what they had done, despite how they stood by when the hurt came, she knew they cared. And she thought of Gage and Mrs. Bossanova, aware of it; had the power to change all of it, but did not.

Sarah's face hardened. She picked up her defunct collar, opened it, and snapped it back on her neck.

Jack stiffened where she sat. "What are you—?"

"I'm not going anywhere," Sarah said, getting to her feet. "Not until everyone is free. I'm going to help."

Coffee spilled all over the floor as Mrs. Bossanova dropped the pot with a loud clang. She didn't seem to notice, her eyes fixed on Sarah standing in the top floor doorway of the Fizztop Grille.

"I...you're…" Mrs. Bossanova fumbled her words, her eyes wide, mouth hanging open. Finally she managed, "Why are you here? I thought you weren't speaking to me."

Sarah took this as permission to enter. She stepped inside, letting the newly repaired doors swing shut behind her. A quick glance around the room told her Gage wasn't home. Good. She hated talking in front of him.

Sarah walked slowly over to the old lady and climbed onto one of the badly singed bar stools. Mrs. Bossanova realised her mishap and quickly grabbed a rag off the side, mopping the coffee up. When she was done, she straightened, her eyes narrowed. "Is this because I hit you?"

"I wanted to talk about Oswald," Sarah said coolly. Speaking his name cut her soul in ways she could never have imagined. This last, great grief had molded her, shaped her into something sharp and cold, like a knife. "I wouldn't listen before. I...I couldn't. But now I can."

Mrs. Bossanova slowly sat down on the other bar stool, watching Sarah with great apprehension. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything. How he died. Who killed him. And why."

The old lady let out a long sigh, closing her eyes. When she opened them again, she gave a short nod, and then began to speak.

The truth wasn't any easier from Mrs. Bossanova's lips. But at least it was the truth. Sarah listened, her stomach churning as she heard each and every terrible detail. How Mrs. Bossanova tried to win him over while Gage stayed out of sight. The way Oswald accused her of hurting Sarah— he wasn't mad at me after all —and how he'd finally started to come around, right up until Gage's blunder ruined everything.

Oswald attacked Gage. Mrs. Bossanova stopped it.

She didn't shirk away from her part in Oswald's death, at least. Sarah respected her for that.

The old lady's head was bowed as she reached the end, her breathing quick and hard. Sarah studied her, wondering if she was trying to trick her. But after a moment of study she realised Mrs. Bossanova genuinely felt bad about it.

"He wasn't dead though, was he?" Sarah asked, her throat tight.

"No," Mrs. Bossanova admitted. "He wasn't. That...that was the worst part. I didn't want him to suffer, but there he was...because of me." She swallowed and met Sarah's gaze. "Gage could see I was upset. He stepped in and finished the job. Ended it cleanly. For my sake."

Sarah's eyes were burning now. She blinked rapidly, banishing the tears. They were for later, in private. "Why did you lie?"

"Because…because I didn't want you to be hurt. You're a rare, innocent thing, Sarah. I don't think you realise how rare. I haven't seen someone like you since before the war. I wanted to protect that at all costs. Protect you."

"Yeah, well, didn't work did it?" Sarah said, scowling.

"No. It didn't. I'm sorry."

She brushed the apology aside, not wanting to hear it. "Why did you tell Jack to buy slaves?" she asked, deciding to push her luck while Mrs. Bossanova was talking. "I heard her this morning before you spoke to me."

"She's an ex-slave," Mrs. Bossanova said, looking surprised. "Who better to get them on board?"

"On board for what?"

"To bring Nuka World up to shape. Gage told me Chip—or whatever his name is—was repairing the park before I killed Colter in the arena. That project fell by the wayside when I took over. Nuka World runs off the backs of the slaves, whatever the raiders like to think. We need them to cooperate and work with us if the place is to succeed—and at the moment, they're running off beatings and fear. All they need is one opportunity for retaliation and the park will be lost. Even with the collars."

Sarah clutched at hers, careful not to pull too hard in case she accidentally tugged it free. There had been a small part of her grateful for the collar's return when she'd snapped it back on, the weight a familiar, sickening comfort on her bare neck.

"So you're going to make Mr. Corbett a slaver to keep everyone in check?" She couldn't hide the revulsion in her voice.

Mrs. Bossanova nodded, her features placid. "Something like that, yes."

Rage eclipsed all thought. She stared at Mrs. Bossanova as if seeing her plainly for the first time.

All afternoon Sarah had been weighing her options—did she tell Mrs. Bossanova about Jack's betrayal? Her indecision brought her to the boss' lair, to find that scrap of sympathy needed to reveal all. But sitting in the clean—if somewhat burnt—Fizztop Grille, high above the stink and squalor of the market, Sarah felt nothing but fury. The slaves were at Mrs. Bossanova's mercy, and she had done nothing to help them. Now she was planning to turn them against each other. Why the hell should Sarah warn the old woman what was coming?

No. Let her find out the hard way.

Sarah got to her feet, trembling with anger, the blood roaring through her ears as she turned on her heel and stomped away. But one last question demanded an answer, and she stopped when she reached the exit. "Why did you hit me?"

Mrs. Bossanova's expression was grim. "You challenged me in front of the raiders—something I can't allow. Nuka World is a game, Sarah. Play it."

Sarah's lip curled in disgust. She strode from the room without another word, but Mrs. Bossanova's parting shot rattled around her head as she ran down the stairs to the ground floor.

A game, is it? she thought, shoving the main entrance door open so savagely it bounced off the outside wall and nearly hit her. Fine. I'll play.

I'll play to win.