Decided to expand more on the Children of Atom story. I wish you could have done more in the game with them! As always, I hope you enjoy and feedback is appreciated! I apologize for any errors.
THE NUCLEUS
The night seemed darker than usual. Though my time on the island had been limited, it felt like the moon didn't even shine quite like it normally did. And I found, as I traveled further and further inland, that the radiation became almost unavoidable. At times, my rads spiked to the twenties. I'd safeguarded against them, but even then, I had half-imagined myself slowly devolving into a ghoul. Pockets of billowing, yellow steam littered the island, that far in. I did my best to keep my distance. They were like little saunas for the Children of Atom, to be sure. I tried to think back to my time as a housewife, to distract me from the anxiousness burgeoning in the pit of my stomach. Baking pies, holding Shaun, snow falling on Christmas Eve, the taste of good wine - not the bottom shelf booze everyone seemed to horde those days. It felt better to imagine myself two-hundred years ago, when the closest to radiation I had come was a microwave.
Though I tried to avoid it, I thought about the fallen Paladin; what it all meant. I feared as he slipped further and further into himself, further into that aching ire, he would become nothing more than a shell. He said he cared - I wanted to believe that. There was a time that was all I wanted. But it began to transform and take shape of something a bit more selfless. I wanted him to be happy. I wanted him to be okay. But the longer he went on, knowing he was not the man they had designed in that lab, the more he resented himself. Every day he slipped further and further into that chasm. What if he went so far, he was nothing but a ghost?
The strand that held us together, was constantly strained. It seemed we were passengers, on a continuous coil of pain. We took turns hurting one another. What kind of life could that be? A smarter person would end it - cut that thread that bound us together, altogether. Maybe we were just two fools that wanted to feel something, anything, so we tortured one another relentlessly, just to experience that suffering. Just to remember we were alive. I would have never thought, something that should be so simple, could contort into the mess we had created.
I could sense that I was nearing the location DiMa had marked on my map. Banners, covered in symbols littered every other pocket of radiation. It was obviously the work of the children. They appeared with more frequency as I neared the top of a slight incline. I could see the sprawl of the entrance to the sub base before me, covered in banners and fortifications. I paused, steeled myself and kept on. As I neared the gates, I could hear a man's panicked voice. I stopped and listened quietly, hiding behind the skeletal remains of a tree.
"Richter, please, you can't do this we've been loyal-"
"That's Grand Zealot to you. And your dedication has come into doubt," someone interjected hotly. I peered from behind my tree and could see a circle of figures. Three were armed, two were not. I assumed it wasn't a fun party where everyone got to eat a yummy rad cake and sing America the Beautiful. "You need to prove your faith. One of you may return to the fold. The other... will return to Atom," the voice said grimly. I didn't have to be an initiate to know what that meant.
"Richter, this is insane! You can't expect us to-" before the panicked man couldn't even finish his sentence, the figure beside him pulled out a weapon and fired at him. There was a metallic ringing as a flash of yellow-green engulfed him and he was flung off of his feet. His lifeless body tumbled in midair and landed in a pile of trash nearby. My eyes widened, as it was clear to me, that these people weren't just insane, they were downright fucking psychotic.
"Will there be anything else?" came the voice of a woman. She holstered her weapon, coolly, as if all she had done was taken a walk in the park, not kill a man in cold blood.
"Jesus," I whispered, tightening the hold on my gun. I wished Danse was there, so he could tell me how much of a stupid idea it was. How I was irresponsible, stubborn and a menace to society.
"That will be all, sister," the cold man replied. What had I gotten myself into?
"Thank you, Grand Zealot," she replied with a bizarre amount of calm. With that, she glided away, towards the entrance to the Nucleus. I quickly holstered my gun, though every instinct in me said not to. I gave myself a quick pep-talk, a one, two three and came out from behind my tree.
I swear, if I make it through this, I will put down my gun a settle down. Start a farm, maybe a trade route. I could sell tatos and make tato juice to sell to the hungry masses. Steamed tatos, mashed tatos, sliced, diced and marinaded. I'd have a cow, I'd name her Violetta. Before I knew it, I was standing in front of the center of the three armed men. My eyes were as wide as saucers. No, maybe Colette.
"What do you want? Did the Harbor send you?" said the man in the center, the one who was calling all the shots. He was tall, stocky, much like Danse. His hair was cropped neatly, not something I expected to see. His facial hair seemed to be groomed. Over his right eye was some sort of carefully painted, significant symbol. Scars adorned his mouth, temple, the bridge of his nose. Someone who had seen his fair share of battles.
"I- I'm not from Far Harbor," I said quickly, making my eyes soft, "I'm from the Commonwealth," I said, trying to seem as harmless as I could.
"Hm. Quite the journey," he nodded, then narrowed his eyes at me, "So. Explain to me, what you're doing here. You come seeking a place among Atom's children?" he asked, sounding just as deluded as every other one of them I had run into.
"Yes, I'm interested. So, sign me up," I said nervously, trying to lighten the conversation.
"Decisions on who may join, we leave to Atom," he said, not in the least amused by me. Well, he really was like Danse with that piss poor sense of humor. "You'll have to perform a ritual. Prove yourself worthy in his eyes," he said, eyeing me, looking for something, perhaps sensing my deception.
"By doing what, exactly?" I said, glancing to both of his cohorts.
"There is a small spring close to here," he motioned with the flick of his neck, "Those chosen by Atom drink and are granted something. A token, in experience. Those not chosen... rarely return." Of course. Of course it involved drinking from a holy spring that would most likely rupture my stomach so I could keel over and bleed out like an idiot.
"I will do whatever is required of me, by Atom," I said, almost unconvincingly. I needed to work on that.
"Let us hope he deems you fit. Go to the spring. Drink. If you come back, we will discuss you joining the faithful."
I nodded my head low and slowly backed up, until I was far enough that I couldn't smell them anymore. Did they also believe in not bathing? I rubbed my nose and took a deep breath. I immediately headed in the direction Richter had pointed me in. I glanced at them as I headed down to a rickety series of docks. They merely watched me until I was out of eyesight.
The crude walkway was far from stable, is it moved to and fro underneath my feet. I traversed their soggy planks as quickly as I could, lingering no longer than I had to. I tried not to imagine what lurked beneath the water, waiting to swallow me hole or bite me in half. As I reached the other side, I quickly began looking for the springs he had sent me to find. I figured, they wouldn't be hard to miss. Given the Children's penchant for outdoors decor, it would probably be covered in giant banners, with weird swirly hieroglyphics that read No baths allowed because it offends Atom. I snorted and continued my search. I tried to keep close to the underbrush, avoiding the fog where it was thickest. Along my trek, I ran into a pair of gulpers, who were bickering loudly over a carcass of some kind. I knew they were easily fought, having taken down a few outside of Far Harbor. But at a distance, I wasn't sure I could actually connect a shot. So I elected to sneak past them, as they nibbled on their rotting prize.
As I had suspected, the springs were easily spotted. Candles, banners, skulls and all manner of holy objects surrounded the loud murmur of a good sized spring jutting out from between two rocks. As I approached it, I took one more Rad-X for good measure. I stood before the spring, holstered my weapon and sighed.
"Well, here goes," I whispered, then leaned forward, cupping my hands and bringing them quickly to my lips. I drank a mouthful of the sour, sulfur water and gagged. It felt like my throat was engulfed in flames. I let out a strangled cry and fell to my knees. I was dying. Danse was right. I'm going to die right here in this pool of shit water and no one will miss me. Suddenly, the edges of my vision were blurred. I could barely make out the yellow-white columns of water that hissed in front of me. I rubbed my eyes, groggily and nearly toppled over in panic. A black figure stood atop the rocks, staring down at me. Oh sweet mother of god, I was crazy now too!
Something, distant and hoarse, as if from the mouth of the very earth itself, whispered to me, beckoning me. "Follow," it rasped. I swallowed hard, my throat still aching from the springs. So I obeyed and followed the specter before me. As the figure, which seemed feminine in nature, glided before me, I was yanked along by an invisible thread. All around me, the world seemed muffled. I could hear the dull roar of what sounded like flames, crackling. A could hear the sobs of a child, somewhere in the forest. A radstag burst through a nearby thicket and pranced away, each hoof-fall seemed to glow to life. "Atom's realm," whispered the voice, sultry, gently. Though the world passed by me, blurred, glowing, I didn't feel my own feet. It was as if I were swimming, sinking, further and further under. "Children's land," the kiss of voice calmed me, my heart thudded slower and slower. I wasn't sure, but I thought I might be dying. Hallucinating before my heart just stopped beating altogether.
As we glided through the forest, I could hear hundreds of voices, crying, speaking in hushed tones. We passed by the same gulpers I had encountered moments before, but they acted is if we weren't even there. I marveled at this world, completely at a loss. As we threaded further and further into the dark, glowing forest, I could hear the guttural snarls of the shrimp-like beasts. But they did not chase us. They merely looked past us. My frenzied eyes felt hot, tired, like they were burning away into ash.
Finally, the ghostly silhouette stopped before a building. Toxic barrels of yellow-green liquid littered the pavement around the shabby, metal hut. Candles and lanterns laid about the exterior, flickering in the slight wind. The trademark banners stood at every corner, whipping to and fro. "There," the voice hummed, stretching out an arm and pointing at the dilapidated structure. As I stepped up to the building, my Geiger counter shrieked, clicking away on my wrist. My mouth felt sour and dry, as I toed around the edge of the building. I could feel reality, slowly slipping back. I could feel my feet again, the sure feeling of my own fingers and toes.
Two stray ghouls, sunning themselves in the glow of the large cloud of radiation, shrieked as their eyes fell on me. I unholstered my shotgun and quickly dispatched two rounds. The first ghoul went down where it stood. Its torso exploding into nothing more than a hollowed out bowl. The second ghoul, charged me. His arm splintered into a wet paste of blood and rot as it fell to my feet with a fading gasp. I loaded two more rounds into my gun and continued on. I reached the front entrance, just as another ghoul awoke from its slumber on the barren ground. It groaned and immediately lunged for me. I hit both barrels and it's head disappeared into the air. It hit the pavement with thud and rolled away into the dark. I quickly opened the door with my shoulder and raised my gun, prepared for the next target. But I found nothing but the body of a ghoul. I closed the door behind me with my boot and lowered my weapon.
Inside, was a small mesh gate, with a security door. A terminal buzzed beside it. I immediately tried to access it, but it required a password. I narrowed my eyes and sighed with irritation. Though I could feel my senses once more, the sounds of the realm were still thick around me. Hushed voices cracking the thin veil between hallucination and actuality. I poked around the room, looking for any semblance of a password. The tables and shelves were littered in candles and skulls, trinkets and cultist knick-knacks. I spotted a periodic table of elements poster on the wall closest to the terminal and padded over to it. I looked behind it and found nothing.
From the corner of my eye, I could see something painted on the side of a shelf beside the poster. As if someone had smudged it there, with their fingers. It was the symbols for molybdenum, thorium and erbium. "Mo-Th-Er," I sighed, "Clever." I immediately tapped the word into the terminal and it unlocked. I quickly tapped the option to unlock the security door and listened to a loud click and groan. I skittered into the closed mesh room and glanced around. In the back, sat an old table, littered in candles and more morbid knick-knacks. In the center, sat a crude, wood carving of a woman. I picked it up, looked it over with my hands, then tucked it into the pocket of my coat. "One ugly, little statue of a weird lady? Check," I said out loud to myself. I mentally prepared myself for the radiation induced lunacy that awaited me back at the Nucleus.
As I arrived at the gates of the submarine base, Richter was standing quietly in much the same spot I left him in. Had he moved at all? Maybe he slept standing up.
"Hm," he said, tilting his head, "You're back. More than I expected," he said, pleasantly surprised. "Did Atom reveal something to you?" he asked, cautiously.
"I drank from the spring and was led to this statue," I said slowly, "But was it supposed to be by a creepy woman?" I said, exhausted. His eyes widened in shock.
"A woman?" he repeated quickly, I could see something calculating on his face, "Led you to that icon?" he said, as if I had lied to him. "What woman? What did you see?" he sounded enthusiastic. A whole lot of bullshit, pal.
"It was... otherworldly," I explained, shaking my head, "The woman, she was like a living shadow, cloaked in mist," I sighed. I used words more appropriate than, "It was weird and I thought I was dying. A weird, scary lady that floated told me to go there and then disappeared. Also, that spring is probably not cool to drink out of."
"Atom above!" he said with a raised voice, "You really did see her. The Mother of the Fog." I tried not to burst out laughing. "The Mother is a messenger from Atom, acts as a guide to those important to his plans and the future of this family. She's the one who led the first of us to this place. And if she showed herself to you... well I'd say the path he has laid for you, is clear," he said firmly. "If you're prepared to take the next step, then I believe there is a place for you among Atom's children."
"I'm ready to follow his path," I nodded. There. That was not so hard. A little disgusting and unhealthy, but not so bad.
"Then it will be so," he breathed. "Head inside and present the icon to the High Confessor when his sermon is done. He will be curious to see that," he motioned to the statue in my hands, "When you're finished, come see me. I have a task for you," he rasped. He reached behind his back and produced a bundle of clothes, "And here is some more... appropriate attire," he paused a moment, fleeting me a warning glare, "Know this, any action against the family, will not be tolerated... messenger or not. Welcome, sister," he said, lifting his chin to look down at me. I tried to look thankful and accepted the bundle of rags.
I thumbed through the atrocious bundle of cloth and wriggled my nose. This might be the lowest point yet. Drink from a rad laden spring? Sure! Follow a hallucination through the goddamn forest to an abandoned building? You got it! Wear a tattered set of rags that smelled like spoiled milk? Absolutely not. I glanced around and found some privacy behind a crude wall fortification. I slipped off my coat, rolled it into a bundle and found a hollow tree stump to hide it. I slipped the rags over my pants and ripped button down, trying not to retch. It felt greasy. I shuddered and plopped the hat on my head. I felt like an absolute moron. I imagine if anyone I knew saw me, they would get a good laugh at my expense. I pictured the Harbormen, who already had low expectations from the drunken mainlander and sighed. This was just pathetic.
After I had donned my beautiful new outfit, I trudged to the door, leading into the belly of the beast. As I pulled the door open, a gust of warm, stale, pungent air assaulted me. I coughed slightly and glanced over my shoulder. No one had noticed. I was a bit more innocuous than I had thought.
Once inside, I could hear the muffled sound of a man's voice. Unmistakably, providing a sermon. A very strange, perverted sermon. It was hard to listen to his fist-pounding, pulpit fury. People actually bought into this garbage?
I slipped down a long hallway, meeting a pair of rusted doors. I pushed them open, the warmth and stench multiplied, my rad counter chirped its terse little warning. This is seriously irradiated man. As I entered the submarine bay, I was greeted by raggedy figures. Some were down on their knees, their arms outstretched to the mighty voice of their messenger. Some had their eyes closed, chanting soft little prayers of mania to themselves. I put my head down, trying to look meek, and navigated my way around the shanty town. There were catwalks and wooden shacks, spread all the way to the ceiling. All encasing the rusting, behemoth frame of the submarine. Wall to wall shabby buildings, filled with people. I couldn't count them, shocked at the number of potential casualties. I couldn't imagine the fallout of a war between these people and the Harbor. The death counts would be astronomical. The gravity of the situation hit me, like an atom bomb.
I slowly walked up the first ramp, opening up to me. As I traversed the highway of walkways and shacks, I kept my eyes on the High Confessor. His sermon had a lot to do with the Harbormen, their sins, the righteous will of Atom. I began to feel quite unnerved, the brink of war being encouraged by someone with such authority. It would not take much, to work those brainwashed masses into a frenzy of blood-lust. Then, the High Confessor began to shout about the center of the Nucleus and DiMa's memory banks. The wiping out of the island and the cleansing of Atom's righteous land. Things were much more bleak than we had imagined. How much time did I have? I wasn't even sure if I could succeed. What if they didn't believe me, accept me? What if we were too late? They could be moments from breaking into those memories and the nuclear fallout of their holy war.
"Glory to Atom!" Tektus shouted, raising his arms wide and closing his eyes in fervor. The crowds chanted his words, utterly awash with their visions.
I watched as the High Confessor disappeared from his perch atop the submarine. Quickly, I slipped through the maze of ramps, catwalks and crude buildings. I bowed my head lightly at every person I encountered. "Atom's blessings," I would murmur, bobbing my head reverently. The faces of those I passed were gaunt and bruised. Most of them were missing hair or teeth. Occasionally, someone would be missing a section of their nose, or eyes. I started to pity them. They had been duped into giving away everything they had to follow that megalomaniac. They were even willing to lose their own flesh, at least some of them. People could be so strange. Especially when they were lost. Some people turn to alcohol, drugs, the Brotherhood, the Minutemen, whatever faction appealed to them - then there was this; to devote every waking moment to lapping up radiation, their brains turning into Swiss cheese. It made me shudder to think about.
I slipped past the various guards, mostly unnoticed. Word must have traveled fast in the Nucleus. More than one had mentioned the icon I carried, asked to see it or touch it. I was a bona fide celebrity, it seemed.
I found Tektus is his quarters, inside the sub, which they deemed The Vessel. He sat atop a gaudy makeshift throne, lined with banners, lights and bottles of glowing liquid. Seeing him closer, he was nothing more than a frail man. A stiff wind would have knocked him over. If all it took to fix the incoming war, was kill him, I could accomplish it with little more than a pillow.
I stood before him and bowed my head, "High Confessor," I breathed, bringing my eyes up to meet his. He eyed me with glossy, sunken, green orbs. I could see the smugness etched into the fading lines of his face. Someone who needed to be admired and followed. I could see pieces of Maxson there, in his smile.
"Ah, I'd heard whispers of a new convert," he said motioning to me. He looked me over, approvingly. I tried to hide a look of annoyance, quickly disguising it with a smile, "Welcome sister," he rasped, returning my smile with his own thin, cracked lips. "How does it feel to take your place among Atom's chosen?"
I sighed inwardly and mulled it over for a moment, "It is an honor," I said, closing my eyes in mock disbelief. I could only hope he was buying the facade. I felt like I was doing damn well. He nodded with appreciation, standing up and bringing his hands behind his back.
"This place- the Nucleus- the Island. Atom has claimed it all for us. His chosen," he said, closing his eyes, revering his own words. "All but one blasted corner" he hissed. My eyes shrank to small slits. I already knew where he was going and was not a bit excited to be along for the trek. "You've been to Far Harbor, yes? Seen it's barriers against Atom's holy fog? It's citizens blasphemous refusal to vacate what is clearly his domain?" I merely nodded softly to his words. He turned, walking as he spoke. With his back to me, he paused. "What would you do with such a place?" his raspy voice coiling in the soft glow of the chamber. I swallowed a lump in my throat, my mind racing for an answer. My answer was risky, but I had to try.
"Try to make peace," I said softly. His head snapped, recessed eyes meeting mine with venom.
"Do you think we have not tried?" he sneered, untying his hands and turning to face me. "For years my predecessors begged for peace, while Far Harbor fortified their bastion of heresy," he growled. "We tried to help them, to bring them Atom's light. Many of our brethren ended up dying for it." He began walking towards me, closing the space between us. I did my best to stay rooted in place, my hands clenched at my sides. If he looked closer, he would have seen the white rounds of my knuckles. "Now that I am High Confessor, that time is over," he said, with a dark finality. "All of Atom's foes, whether it be Far Harbor or that ancient robot who hid his memories in our very home... they will come to recognize Atom as the true master of this land." His face darkened as he looked at me with half-lidded eyes, "But it is only through unity that we can prevail. Atom requires devotion from all his children," he rasped, his eyes looking me up and down, once more.
I bowed my head again, "Thank you High Confessor, I will do whatever Atom requires," I said gently. As I left, I could feel his putrid gaze on me. I quickened my step, until I was far enough away from him that I could breathe.
I stepped into a side room and hid just around the corner. I leaned against the wall, braced my hands against my knees and took in a lungful of sharp air. I was exhausted. My chest ached from my little spiritual hike through the forest. My feet felt like they were filled with cement. The inside of my mouth, still dry from the springs. What I wanted above anything else, was to sleep. I decided, as I could hear the nearing of hushed voices, I would speak to Richter. Once I found out what he needed, I would get some sleep. I just hoped it didn't involve ingesting radioactive sludge. I took a few moments to steady myself, slicked down my rags, as if it mattered what I looked like, and stepped back into the soft glow of the chamber.
As I wound my way back down to the chamber floor, I kept to myself. A woman stopped me, asking to see the icon, which I had neglected to show Tektus. I mentally kicked myself for forgetting. I showed her the small, wooden piece and listened as she marveled over it. How blessed I was to see the Mother of the Fog, how I was on a path, guided by Atom. As she chattered on about how amazing it all was, I tried not to fall asleep standing there. Out of the side of eye, I saw the Grand Zealot, weaving between the shacks and planked walkways. I excused myself abruptly from the woman.
"Uhhh, may Atom guide you, or whatever," I murmured, touching my forehead and giving her a quick wave. I didn't catch the annoyed glower on her face. I was too busy trying to shuffle my way towards Richter. Another person, a young boy, no older than eighteen shouldered into me. "Fuckin shit," I hissed as he stepped back, holding his hands up to apologize. "Are you blind?" I growled, rubbing the joint between my shoulder and chest. I was exhausted and was running out of patience. The boy's eye widened and he quickly scurried on his way, fleeting a glance over his shoulder at me. I cleared a path of youngsters, playing with one of those glowing bottles. As I toed past them, I nearly fell over, just managing to grab a splintered wooden beam. "Grand Zealot," I said, raising my voice above the giggling of the little ones. Richter paused and scanned around until he found my tired face. I held up a hand and awkwardly pawed my way to him.
"What?" he asked, sounding absolutely cheerful to see me. I scratched the back of my head and took a steady breath.
"You wanted to see me," I replied sheepishly.
"Ah, yes. I have a job for you," he said in a raspy voice. I sighed heavily, imagining my nice warm bed from two-hundred years ago.
"What kind of job?" I asked sleepily. I reached up and rubbed my eyes gently.
"A matter of heresy that needs to be dealt with," he responded, his eyes darkening. Oh goody! "There is a woman, one of our own. Or she was. But she's given herself over to something... dark," he said, his shadowed face rippled with a look of concern. "Others have sent to deal with her, but this heretic has eluded them. She has begun profaning our holy sites with her mad ravings. Flouting the holy word of Atom," anger sparked over his face, like a live wire, "The High Confessor wants her found. And executed." Did everyone always have to die? What was with these people?
"Why me? I imagine other Zealots know the area better than I do," even my mouth felt tired. Every muscle in my body was heavy, my eyes felt bloodshot.
"Consider it a test," he answered, his voice soft and cryptic. I narrowed my listless eyes and nodded.
"I'll find her," my answer seemed convincing enough. He gave me a tight nod and walked away, his weapon still clutched firmly in his hands. I wondered if he slept with it like that. Did he sleep? Were they allowed to? If you were to base the answer on the state of their addled brains and sunken eyes, one might surmise the answer as a no. "Oh," I said, trailing after him for a moment. He looked over his shoulder at me, a brow raised. "Where can I sleep?" I asked, a little anxious to hear the answer. He pointed me in the direction of a row of sleeping bags. I frowned and trudged away.
I managed to find some privacy, on the very bottom of their makeshift city. I went about cleaning my face with my hands, trying to use as little water as I could. I rummaged through my pack and found my last few doses of Rad-X. I quickly popped one of them in my mouth and chased it with an entire bottle of water. After washing the grime from my hands and face, I pushed my pack against the wall and laid my head on it. The cement beneath me was cold and unwelcoming, but I was happy enough just being able to close my eyes.
I dreamed once more, my journey plagued with something wicked, as they had been the night before.
I was running through the forest. In the distance, I could hear the trill of an unforeseen creature. Though I could not see it, I was aware that it could see me. It felt almost useless to run, because no matter how far away I managed to get, the creature was always just behind me. Looming, like a massive blackened cloud at my heels. Before me, its shadow spread like a tower, seeming to go on forever. I felt very small, dwarfed in comparison with the colossus pursuing me. As I weaved through the trees, I began to realize I was running in an infinite loop. Despite this knowledge, I could not will myself to stop. All at once, I broke through the edge of the forest, just as a massive clawed fist shattered through the plane in front of me. The ground shattered, like a window pane. As I skidded to a stop, I turned to face the creature haunting me. But all I could see was the shadow of a behemoth. I could not make out any features, save for two brightly glowing, endless yellow eyes. I felt the air purged through my chest as some unforeseen specter hammered into my chest like a battering ram. I could feel the ground slip from under me as I plummeted into the inky abyss. As I fell into that blank, black schism, I could hear the cry of an infant. I immediately knew it was Shaun. A feeling of panic surged through me, knowing I could do nothing to stop it. The sound of a single gunshot echoed on forever in that infinite, murky cistern. I tried to scream, to tell them to leave me alone, but nothing came from my mouth. My chest burned tightly, as if the very breath had been stolen from my lungs.
I awoke with a start, my hands scrambling to whatever surface I could find for support. My fingers scratched at the cement beneath me, unable to pull myself forward. I felt a slap, hard and hot, on the side of my cheek. I sputtered for a moment and threw a wayward punch, purely out of instinct. It didn't connect with anything. A hand tightened around my arm and wrenched me to my feet. My swollen eyes parted to find the Grand Zealot standing in front of me. Abruptly, like I had fallen straight from that black cavern to the surface of the earth, I realized what I had done. My hands reached around blindly for my gun. But I had taken it off and slipped it under my pack while I slept. I was sure it was all over. That I had given myself away. That I had put in all that effort, just to die there.
I noticed a crowd of people gathered behind him, all staring at me. I glanced between them, panic stricken. I could see my life ending, on my knees, a bullet between my eyes. I thought when that moment came, I would be at peace with it. It would finally be over. But I wasn't at peace with it. I wanted to live to a ripe old age. I wanted to be surrounded by people I cared about. Garvey and the Minutemen, Nick and his old-world gritty wisdom. Shaun and countless others I had encountered in my days out of the vault. I wanted to-
"Did you have a vision sister?" someone shouted from the back of the crowd. My eyes frantically found the face of an eager, young boy. The one I had shouted at the day before. My mind faltered, skipped and stuttered for a moment.
"Uh," I clenched my eyes shut and let out a quaking breath, "Yes," I whispered, "Yes, a vision," I repeated. I pushed the heels of my hands into my temples and nodded slowly, my eyes still closed.
"What did you see?" a woman said, her voice anxious. Richter slowly let go of my arm.
"I- I saw a great light," I said eagerly. I opened my eyes and tried to appear as if I had just been visited by Atom himself. "A great light, purging the Island," I said slowly. What the fuck do I tell these weirdos? "And after the light faded," I said slowly, calculating, "The High Confessor lead us to a mountain," I said, improvising. Might as well blow some smoke up the old guy's ass while I was at it. That could gain his trust, surely. "And a messenger," I started but I was cut off.
"You! You are this messenger?" the boy shouted, turning and nodding, smiling to his companions.
"Yes!" I said nodding, glancing back and forth, "The messenger delivered the word of Atom to his Children," I made my eyes very wide, "To go forth and witness his word to the Commonwealth." Richter looked at me, unsure. Had I said too much? Oh god, he was on to me. "For the his holy fog will not end here," I added quickly. Everyone exchanged excited whispers and shouts of praise.
"Leave," Richter said, motioning his hand to the crowd, "Let our Sister meditate on what she has seen, in peace," he said. The crowd dispersed, excitedly hugging and laughing. What on earth did I just tell them? "You have seen all of this?" Richter said now, looking at me with expectant eyes. I nodded and rolled my shoulder, rubbing where he had grabbed my arm. "I apologize," he said, motioning to my arm, "You were frightening those people," he added.
"No apology necessary. I understand," I said with a weak smile. He turned to leave, but paused.
"Who is Shaun?" he said coolly. My eyes waned and I let out a small, tight breath. I didn't know what to say, so I just told him the truth.
"My son," I said gently. He turned towards me, a mixture of curiosity and suspicion on the lines of his face. "He died, very long ago," I said sadly. That was truth too. At least, it seemed that way to me. Shaun might have been alive, but the boy I knew was gone.
"How?" he inquired, shifting on his feet. It felt like he was interrogating me. I tried to think of something to tell him. But the longer I took, the more guilty I seemed.
"He was taken from me," I replied, honest again. He accepted this answer, but continued his investigation.
"And his father?" I swallowed a knot of warmth in my throat.
"They killed him." I flicked my gaze to the ground.
"You should be happy for them," he replied gently. I tried not to look as angry as I really was. I kept my eyes locked on the ground. "They are one with Atom now," he said, as if he were jealous of them. I finally nodded and smiled at him.
"You are right," I said, bringing my hands up to hug myself. I wanted to reach under my pack, and unload both barrels of my gun into his face.
"When we die, it is to be celebrated," he explained, lowering his gun to his side. "We are united with Atom through our death." Ugh. I nodded in fake acceptance. I wanted to change the subject before he said something that would push me over the edge.
"What about you? You seem different than most people here. Why is that?" I said, searching his eyes for a hint at what he was thinking.
"I was a soldier before I came to Atom," he replied, after a moment of thought. No wonder he reminded me of Danse. Those soldier types had one setting, didn't they? "Lieutenant Brian Richter. Recon. Capital Region," he added, raising his chin slightly, proud of his past title. "Had been on a long-term scouting mission up north when we picked up the trail of a reserve of Fusion Cores from an old disposal facility," his voice sounded distant, as he recalled the memory. I hugged myself more tightly, remembering my own days as a soldier. "We'd made our way into the containment cellar, only our team engineer hadn't set the door locks right. Fifteen inches of lead-wrapped steel slammed shut behind us and locked tight, not to open again until Division." I tilted my head, listening with interest. "And I got to watch them all crumble and die while I lasted on two sips of water a day and the occasional roach." I clenched my teeth together and tried not to wince. Even these lunatics had encountered pain in their time. But it affected them differently. "The High Confessor- still a Zealot back then, showed up a few weeks later." Ah. There it was. Having witnessed your comrade's succumb to a slow, painful death, paired with starvation, dehydration and desperation - was ripe for the words of a crazed cultist to root. "They cracked the seal on the door, pulled me out, dragged me back here, where the Archemist nursed me back to health. It's only thanks to Atom's blessing I didn't die, vomiting my guts onto the floor, forced to eat my own shedding hair." I grimaced then. "Anything else?" he asked. I could tell the subject was soft and mostly off limits. But I was gaining his trust, very slowly.
"You were a soldier," I rasped, "With what army?"
"They were called the Enclave," he said with the far away look of fondness, "They were a force to be reckoned with in their day... but now, well- it's been a very long time." My eyes narrowed for a moment, but I quickly glanced away. I knew of the Enclave. Danse had discussed them with me, when we were still serving with the Brotherhood. They wreaked havoc on the Capital Wasteland, though they had been squelched by the Brotherhood. It made sense, someone like Richter would have served with them, then turned his fucked-up sense of justice loose of the people of the Island, alongside that feeble piece of garbage, Tektus. I made note, to never mention my past with the Brotherhood. I hadn't considered it up until then. I hadn't planned on sharing any aspect of my life with these people, but in order to gain any good standing, or trust, I would have to.
"I should go," I said quickly, giving my head a shake, trying to rid myself of those old memories. "I wanted to speak with the High Confessor," I added. Richter gave me a curt nod and slipped out of the ground-floor shack. As he left, however, he shot me a small gaze, calculating.
"What is your name, sister?" he asked, his voice was swimming with something I couldn't quite place.
"Delta," I said, before I could realize I should have given him an alias. He just nodded and continued on his way. I let a noisy puff of air escape my chest and turned around to look down at my pack. "Not very smart of you," I whispered to myself. I slugged the pack around my shoulders and slipped my gun back into its holster. I took a moment to analyze everything that had taken place, moments ago. It had all happened so quickly. I couldn't have imagined, that this mission would have turned into something so complicated. I glanced at my Pip-Boy to check the time and was surprised to see I'd slept for nearly twelve hours. I was wasting time. Time I couldn't even measure. I didn't know where the memories were, how close the children were to hacking them, or if they could place their trust in me. It felt like I was navigating in the dark. It wasn't enough to tell them I was dedicated. I needed to show them. I quickly drank a bottle of water and made my way to Tektus' chambers.
I sat crouched just a few feet from the entrance of the vessel. I was eavesdropping on a conversation between Richter and another zealot. They were discussing a newcomer. It mattered little to me. But the way they had purposely wandered out of sight, whispering in the hallway. If it had anything to do with the memory banks, I needed to know. I had my Pip-Boy open and dialed through it, pretending to be busy, just in case I was found. I listened a moment longer, until the two separated. I quickly made myself scarce and dipped into the submarine unnoticed. After the incident with my "vision" I was trying avoid any conversations. It was relatively easy to slip around undetected, I found. Especially if you had a hood over your head. I managed to cross the entire base with my hood up and nary a question from anyone. It was infinitely easier to get my work done.
I found Tektus, sitting in his chambers. He was deep in thought, or prayer maybe. His eyes were glossy, staring off into nothingness. He was slowly tapping the side of his cadaverous face, mumbling under his breath.
"Uhm, High Confessor," I said softly, poking just inside the door. He looked up, a little surprised.
"Sister, come in, come in," he motioned to me. I gently padded into the room and came a stop a few feet before him. His eyes still looked over me, once up and down and focused on my eyes. I set my jaw. Yuck. "What do you need?" he asked.
"I found this icon. The Grand Zealot thought you might be interested to see it," I said airily. I reached forward as he held out an old, calloused hand, and set the wooden statue in his palm. His hand quickly closed around mine and he placed his other atop the back of my knuckles. I tried not jerk away. I just presented him with a confused smile. He patted my hand gently and let go, bringing the icon up to his gaze.
"Is this..." he turned it over with his fingers, "So the whispers are true. You saw the Mother of the Fog. Many of Atom's children spend their whole lives wishing to see such a boon," he rasped, running a fingertip over the crude wooden features. "It would seem, he expects great things from you child," he breathed, shifting on his chair and appraising me with those cloudy, green eyes. I gave a weak smile, hoping that I cemented my place among them with my small token. I gave my head a small bow and turned to leave. "Sister," he said quickly, "If you don't mind, we have a newcomer. They have passed the test, drank from the springs, returned unharmed. But," he paused and frowned, "The Grand Zealot seems to think they are not worthy of a place among our family," he sounded annoyed. I thought for a moment, they might have called my intentions into question and were going to demand we show our dedication, in much the same way I had seen my first night there. "If you would be so kind, as to investigate this matter? Personally, at my behest," he said, giving me a sickly little smile. I nodded. "Do not speak of this to anyone else," he added, and dismissed me with a small motion of his hand. He continued to fawn over the icon. I quickly slipped away, finding myself perplexed. Maybe he trusted me more than I had thought. Maybe he wanted to replace Richter, or perhaps didn't trust him anymore. There were a million possibilities. I just hoped, my execution was not one of them. People like Tektus, did not come into power by playing nice... or fair.
I gathered the location of the newcomer by asking a few of the residents. They were more than happy to help me. Some even offered to make me food, but I was sure I was not interested in whatever kind of slop they ate. Though my reputation would seem to be in good favor, I couldn't ignore the risk involved with infiltrating a cult of lunatics.
I was pointed in the direction of a small altar, just outside of the Nucleus. I had seen it when I first arrived. It was an old, hollow tree. Bottles, candles and small tokens surrounded it, often accompanied by a devout worshiper, or raving priest. I readied myself, knowing most of these tasks ended with my having to kill someone. I guess when you think death is a celebration, you don't take killing people that seriously.
Being out of the submarine housing felt spectacular. I could take in the somewhat fresh air. The sky was settling with the sickly colors of the approaching dusk. The fog had thickened, in my absence. It looked as if the whole island was awash in a thick cloud of billowing smoke.
I found my way to the altar, my hand resting on the cold, reassuring gunmetal at my hip. I could see the a silhouette, standing near the altar. It seemed to be a man, his attention elsewhere. I sighed and approached him softly, being sure to have the upper hand. "Brother," I breathed, hating the sound of my pious voice. The man turned, revealing familiar features. I froze in place, my brows knitting into single line of confusion."What the fuck?" I hissed.
Danse quickly grabbed my wrists and skirted me further away from the prying eyes of the others. I yanked my hands away and glared at him. "Why the fuck are you here?" I demanded. He was going to destroy all the effort I had put forth.
"Lower your voice," he whispered, glancing over my shoulder. No one had been alerted. He looked back down at me, making a small face at my rags. I resisted the urge to kick him in the shins. "We thought you might have compromised." I would have been flattered had I not known he was there to make sure I hadn't ruined the chances of recovering DiMa's memories and in the process saving hundreds of people from nuclear annihilation.
"Give me a little bit of credit here," I said, my voice soaked with irritation. He held up a hand and quickly bowed his head. I glanced over my shoulder, to see a guard looking in our direction. He gave me a nod and I reciprocated. Seeing nothing unusual, he went back to his perimeter.
"You've been here too long," he said, holding up one of my dirty hands and looking over it.
"Oh for fuck's sake," I said, ripping my hand away. "I know what I'm doing. It's just, taking longer than I thought," I said with a heavy sigh. I was happy to see him, of course. But in there, somewhere, was a certain chord of pain. I'd closed the door, when I walked away from Acadia. Somehow, things always led back to him. God damn it all, I could not escape his presence.
"When you didn't show up at Acadia, or the Harbor, Kasumi came to see me. She's worried," he chastised me. "She wanted to come, but I couldn't let her do that," he explained. I just gave my eyes a dramatic roll.
"Now what?" I said, rolling my shoulders, "Hi, I'm alive," I said waving sarcastically.
"Sister Delta?" a voice came from somewhere in the dark behind me. I clenched my jaw tightly and gave Danse a truly scathing glare. I turned on my heel, to see the silhouette of Richter forming in the dull glow of the candles. My stomach coiled up in a mess of knots. You've really stepped in it now.
"Grand Zealot," I replied softly, surprised. I tried to formulate an answer for being there in my head. I got lost. I saw something weird. I've infiltrated your cult and now you must die!
"I thought you would have found something more useful to do," he said, his voice sounded annoyed. I glanced at Danse, who was just standing there, totally useless and awkward.
"I heard there was a newcomer. From the Commonwealth," I replied quickly.
"Yes?" he said, glancing between the two of us with suspicion.
"I had a vision. I needed to see him," I added, trying to explain away my presence by milking my messenger status for all it was worth. Richter looked skeptical. After a moment, he nodded, slowly.
"Interesting," he mused. "What do you think, of this newcomer?" he asked, giving Danse an disapproving one over.
"I trust him," I answered firmly, trying to seem confident in my answer. "I do not sense deception, in him, "I added, looking over at Danse. He just looked at me with, what I assume was forced innocence. And it was terrible. "Perhaps," I said slowly, looking at Richter, "He should see the High Confessor," I knitted my hands behind my back. "If Atom has chosen him, I do not see why he may not be welcomed into our family," my voice firm, slightly disapproving. I was pulling a huge risk. But so far, being brazen had gotten me into their fold and in high regard. Richter's eyes were mere slits, as he studied Danse. He knew I was right, that he could not deny someone entrance over a mere hunch.
"I do not think the High Confessor has time for something so," his eyes trained on the fellow soldier carefully, "Insignificant. Show him inside," he said, retaking the tone of dominance and disappearing into the darkness whence he came. I breathed a sigh of relief and turned my attention back to Danse.
"What did you do to piss that guy off?" I asked, hitching a thumb over my shoulder. Danse raised a brow.
"Not sure," he said with indifference. Maybe he was just threatening. Maybe it was as obvious to Richter, as it was everyone else, that Danse was a soldier. That was pretty tough to hide. And Danse was a terrible actor.
"You realize, you are risking the position I am in by being here, right?" I reached into my pack and took out a bottle of water, pouring some into my hands and rubbing them together. I was sweating from the mere encounter. I poured the rest over my neck, "I am this close," I said, holding up my forefinger and thumb, "To being Tektus' best pal." Danse, the ever-impartial asshole, just stared at me. I growled and started towards the forest. Danse's eyes followed me.
"Where are you going?" he said confused.
"I have to kill a heretic," I snapped, throwing my hands up in the air. That was the most bizarre sentence, I've ever had to say.
"What?" he said, trudging up behind me.