Okay, this chapter and the next are Guestman's fault, because he spotted that I tried to sneak Curie in without explaining how she got there. (Remember the brain surgery performed by the Mr. Handy? The one with the French accent?) So I had to write it. Most of the chapter is a flashback, but Nick and Raina are hitting the road to General Atomics Galleria, and the chapter after next will involve Danse.
Seriously, though: Thanks, Guestman, because as it was, it was sloppy storytelling.
"You need not worry about the well being of this unfortunate young man," Curie told them, her manner cheerful. "He has passed the crisis point, and I shall be taking care of him—and watching over him as well." X6 had been moved to Raina's place, the Red Rocket, to continue recovering (or to die if he didn't) at a distance from the rest of the settlers, and Curie, who lived there anyway, had been put in charge of him. It was the easiest place to restrain him, if that should prove necessary, too. Sturges and several other settlers had built a concealing wall of cars and salvaged materials around the homestead, and between that and the wall of Sleeping Beauty roses, getting in was nigh impossible. Getting out was almost as challenging.
Curie continued, "If he continues to improve, in a few days' time I shall begin rehabilitation by assigning him some light duties around the settlement, such as combing les lapins and collecting eggs. If he can manage those, perhaps he may be assigned a garden patch to care for. Charting his recovery will add a great deal to my database, and of course I shall supervise him at all times. You must go and recruit other Mr. Handys and Miss Nannys for the trip into the Glowing Sea, and you can do that very well without me."
"I'm not so sure," Raina grimaced. She had been counting on Curie's help when they went to General Atomics Galleria and Greygardens.
"But of course! I am sure you will do splendidly. And you have Monsieur Valentine with you, so all will be well."
"Thanks, Curie," the detective replied. "See you in a few days."
As Raina and Nick threaded their way through the maze around her property, they bid farewell to Jonny-Say-Quoi, who was directing the agrobots in digging over the garden beds. Like Curie, he expressed confidence in them.
"I never realized how different bots can be, or how much we took them for granted in the Vault," Raina said once they reached the road. "The agrobots are meant to be drones, and they weren't given much in the way of cognitive capacity. However, they are bright enough that you can show one a bed of plants and say, 'These are beans, those are radishes, that's lettuce. If you see anything growing here that isn't a bean plant, a radish or lettuce, pull it up and throw it on the compost heap,' and they'll do it. Yet they weren't given the ability to communicate. I never questioned that until coming up Topside."
"You think they should be able to speak?" Nick asked.
"I think they should have been given more in the way of cognitive capacity as well as the ability to speak. Then there's Codsworth and Jonny. They're the exact same model—they're even in the same serial number sequence—but before Codsworth asked to be reset, he was a real mess. He sometimes talked about his family like they were there-and acted that way, too."
"Ooh. That's not good," Nick winced.
"It really wasn't. When it came to family charade night, he was….both pathetic and a little terrifying. Jonny told me it came from losing them so soon after activation, that Mr. Handys and Miss Nannys are programmed and primed to bond with the people who are there when they're activated the first time. Or the first time after using the reset codes. So it was like a small child losing his parents and growing up on his own. If he was a more mature bot, he would have coped better. I suppose you're wondering what my point is," she looked up at Nick.
"And it's this: That creatures which are capable of bonding emotionally with others, capable of communicating intelligently, and capable of personal growth and maturity, should not be bought, sold, and owned. They should have civil rights. They should get paid for their work and have the freedom to choose their employers. I hope it goes without saying that these apply to synths of all kinds."
"Well, thank you," he smiled wryly. "What is it with you and changing the world? First it's 'Lucids', now this. I agree, but right now it's hard enough to stay alive in this world without worrying about rights. Anyhow, Curie, Jonny and Codsworth all seem quite happy where they are, doing what they're doing. I don't know how you'd crack the programming that makes them what they are."
"Maybe they are now, but Curie was only a few yards from freedom and companionship, and she couldn't even cross the threshold. That's so wrong…" King, hearing the sadness in her voice, nosed her hand. Petting him always made her feel better, he seemed to say.
Two weeks ago:
Murray, the Vault-Tec rep turned seed catalog salesman-rep, had mentioned Vault 81 when they met, and Raina had mentally filed it away as something to look into when she had a moment. That moment came when Nick casually remarked that they were near that Vault, and did she want to check it out?
"Yes, since we're so nearby," she replied, and he led her to a shantytown vacant of all but a stray Brahmin nosing around in search of forage. King looked as if he wanted to roll in the cowflops, but she called him back to her.
"It's for visiting traders," he explained as they entered the tunnel. "They don't let a whole lot of people in—they might not let us in. If they do, be prepared to field a lot of comments about wastelanders. Synths too, for that matter."
"I promise not to cause any scenes, as long as they don't start one," she replied. "I'm more interested in how it compares to an Envirovault than anything else. Certainly I'm more interested in that than in the people—at least until I get to know them."
"All right. Here we are—the friendliest Vault in the Commonwealth. Mostly because they don't just shoot people on sight." He gestured to the command panel on their side of the massive Vault door.
Raina toggled the intercom and asked, "Hello? Is anyone there?"
"Hold it right there. Vault 81 security. Who is this?" asked a male voice on the other end. "We're not expecting any traders today. State your business."
"I'm from another Vault and I just wanted to see how yours compares to the one I grew up in, that's all," she replied.
"Another Vault? Right, go pull the other one. We're not opening up to you for…Oh. Overseer."
"Who is it, Edwards?" a more mature voice asked. It was a woman's voice, neither young nor old, and she spoke with authority.
"Ma'am, some new Commonwealth traveler. Not one of our usual traders," the hostile voice told her. "She claims she's from another vault."
"Well, if someone wants in, wherever they're from, they can earn it like everyone else," the woman told him. "Let me speak to them."
"Yes, ma'am," the man replied.
"Thank you. Sorry about that. Officer Edwards here was just doing his job. I'm sure you can understand our need for caution. For newcomers, we like to operate on exchange. You help us, we help you."
"All right," Raina agreed. "What is it you need?"
"Fusion cores. Three, to be precise. You get the fusion cores, we grant you access."
It was a big disappointment. "Oh. That's the one thing I can't give you. You see, I have no spares. I need all I can get to keep my vault running. I'm sorry to have troubled you."
Raina made as if to turn off the intercom, but Nick leaned over to ask, "You have a hydroponics room in there, right, where you grow your food?"
"Yes, that's right," the woman answered. "We don't compromise our inhabitants' health by buying from the surface."
"What do you grow? I'm guessing gourds, melons, mutfruit, corn, carrots, razorgrain, tatos—all the usual. Am I right?" Nick arched an eyebrow at Raina.
"Yes, but I don't see where this is leading," the Vault woman said.
"That's all right. As an alternative to the cores, would you be willing to accept seeds for food crops you don't have? Raina, you have one of those 'Basic Kitchen Garden Assortments' in your pack, don't you?"
"Yes," she replied, swinging it down from her shoulder and fishing out the package. Along the way in their travels, they delivered an identical assortment which Murray had sold to Country Crossing, and at the Lucid's suggestion, she had taken along a few extras, on the off chance they might find a buyer or want to sweeten a deal. Nick had been very right about hiring Murray; his knowledge and expertise were invaluable.
Nick took it from her hand and read off, "Let's see—in the Basic Kitchen Garden Assortment, you get seeds for a cut-and-come-again salad garden, that's at least six different kinds of greens that will produce salads all growing season, a culinary herb assortment with eight different herbs to enhance the flavor of your food, green beans for eating fresh, cannellini beans for drying and using in the off season, bull's blood beets, sugar snap peas, sweet peppers, hot peppers,—."
"Is that—you're offering us food crop seeds? You have these with you, and they're viable?" The woman sounded half confused, half amazed.
"Yes," Raina took over the intercom again. "I come from an Envirovault. I and my Mr. Handy, with our agrobots, grew these and packaged them for this year's growing season. These were grown in our vault from pre-war stock, but I tested all these crops on the surface last year. All of these survived a normal growing season with several radstorms and did not mutate. Would these be worth enough to you to admit me?"
"Yes. I should say so—ah, that is, if our biologist approves them after examination," the woman replied. "I'll be there to meet you at the entrance, and we can go to Dr. Penske's laboratory."
The huge vault door opened and the mechanized bridge slid across the gap, locking into place. Raina looked around with great interest, comparing it to her home. In terms of architecture, it looked very much the same, but at home the entryway and intake processing areas were filled with boxes and boxes of the Concord Public Library's overflow, hundreds, even thousands of books, records and holotapes, all unwanted donations, duplicate copies, and items culled from the stacks. Some of them were from the days when many books were printed on cheap acid-processed paper, which yellowed and disintegrated over time, so the cleanliness of this vault was novel to her. It also looked much bigger when it wasn't full of clutter.
Several technicians were working on various pieces of equipment in the entryway, and they went from looking mildly interested to gawking at Nick and at King more than at Raina—they saw young women every day, but a battered old synth and a purebred German Shepard were probably novelties, Raina thought. A small grey blur streaked in their direction, and a tech called out "Ashes, where are you going—Ashes!"
King stopped in the middle of the walkway, and gave a single loud "Woof!"
The grey blur stopped dead, revealing itself to be a cat, and then danced backward, its back and tail arched, the very picture of a Halloween cat. The tech grabbed the cat by the scruff of its neck, swinging it up into her arms like a human baby. "Thanks! This is my little cousin's cat, and she'd be heartbroken if anything happened to him."
"No trouble at all. King here can herd loose Brahmin, round up escaped chickens and rabbits, and it seems he can even herd cats, too."
"Chickens and rabbits?" the girl asked, but at a cough from her supervisor, she made a face. "Uh—thanks again. I better go return him and then get back to work. Bye!"
"Bye," Raina replied, then turned her attention to the medical tech with the biometric scanner. He checked her over and expressed his surprise that she was radiation free, then cleared the three of them for entry.
Finally they were inside the vault itself, where a middle aged woman in a Vault suit awaited them. "Hello. I'm Gwen McNamara, Overseer of Vault 81, and you are?"
"Raina Queen. This is Nick Valentine, of Diamond City, and my dog King. Both of them are housebroken and have very good manners." She said it as brightly and cheerfully as she could. The corner of Nick's mouth quirked up to show he appreciated the subtle jab hidden in it, and approved.
"That's good to know. I don't foresee any problems while they're with you. Come with me: I want Doctor Penske to have a look at these seeds you're offering us." They followed the Overseer down into the living quarters of Vault 81.
Curie waited, as she had been waiting for over a hundred years, and listened, as she had done for over a hundred years. Forbidden to leave the research laboratory and forbidden to contact the inhabitants of the other half of Vault 81, the Miss Nanny robot had languished there with nothing to do for decades after completing the project assigned to her by the human scientists who were the only companions she had ever known. That project was a broad spectrum cure for all known diseases. Now the only things left to her were watching the mole rats and listening to the humans in the other half of the Vault through her computer terminal.
Of the two, listening to the humans was more diverting, but only by a narrow margin.
She listened to their first cries on entering the world, their very last breaths, and everything in between. She knew each vault dweller even better than their mothers did. And she was very, very bored.
But today was different. She paused in her daily disinfection routine as she heard a new voice, an unfamiliar voice—no, two unfamiliar voices, a man's and a woman's, but what the woman had to say was much more interesting. "Our vault had no number. It was an Envirovault. I'm an agroecologist, and my goal in life is first of all to maintain and preserve the resources within our vault, but second, to return them to the world and do what I can to restore the environment."
The woman, whose name was Raina Queen, and a doctor in the way that Dr. Penske was, not officially but effectively all the same, went on to explain the functions of such a vault, how she was the last caretaker left, why she had left and what had happened to her since then. Dr. Penske was inspecting the seed packets and by the sound of it, taking notes, while Overseer McNamara was listening and commenting from time to time.
"And joining the Minutemen has given me a network of people who help in small ways by spreading these around wherever they go." Dr. Queen said, and Curie heard a sound as if someone had set something on a table.
"What are these?" Dr. Penske asked.
"A mixture of seeds and dirt infused with beneficial microorganisms and fertilizer, packed in blown eggshells. I seal them up with a bit of vegetable paste and paper. Then the Minutemen toss one or two of them on the ground in likely areas where there are no settlements. The shells break and the rain and wind do the rest. The seeds are from plants, shrubs and trees that should naturalize well and grow without needing any further care."
"I keep telling her she should come up with some kind of seed gun or seed bomb to cover like, a whole acre at a time," said the man.
"Maybe if it used compressed air rather than an explosive, it would work," Dr. Queen said. "Anyhow, before I went to the surface I was concerned about not introducing invasive non-native species to the area, but three seasons later, I've realized that getting anything to thrive will be a blessing to the environment."
Curie felt a thrill of longing for such freedom. To be able to travel throughout the Commonwealth freely, with such a noble and worthy goal! If only she could leave the confines of the lab, she would immediately offer her help to Dr. Queen. There were so many ways she could be of service!
"Well, as far as these seeds are concerned, they look to be viable. You have no idea what a difference these will make to our diet," Dr. Perske said. "There are fewer and fewer supplies of pre-war canned goods remaining to us, and the seed stock I've been working with has suffered the same problem as any too-small gene pool: it lacks diversity. The yield has been dropping lower and lower for the last decade."
"Yes," the Overseer confirmed. "In all truth, this is worth a great deal more to us than three fusion cores. Thank you."
"You're very welcome," Dr. Queen had a nice voice, Curie decided. She sounded warm and goodnatured. "I would like to look around the Vault, if it's all right."
"Of course," Dr. Penske said. "Actually, would you mind if I accompanied you? I would like to talk about raising chickens and rabbits here as you do. And then there's the beehives..."
Curie could only listen in on conversations in the close vicinity of a terminal, so she missed a great deal of what was said, but eventually they got to the generator room, which was as close as they could get to her laboratory. So close, and yet so far...
"So how does our Vault compare to yours?" Dr. Penske asked. Her grandson had joined them, and he was having the time of his life playing with the dog Dr. Queen had brought along.
"The architecture is much the same. The layout, too, at least in terms of number of rooms and so on, but where you have people, I have plants. There's a greater emphasis on decontamination between sectors, so one envirounit can't carry over into another. Nor do you have an autoclave setting on the thermostats-that's in case of a really virulent mildew or fungus. An entire hall and every chamber attached to it can be sterilized if need be, by raising the temperature to five hundred degrees for at least an hour. Or individual chambers, if the outbreak isn't that severe."
"I had no idea an entire vault could be rigged up that way," Dr. Penske said. "I hope there were failsafes installed on it."
"Yes. We only had to use it two or three times, according to our records. Damping-off disease, you know. It was good to know it was there if we needed it. The biggest difference, though, is that in our vault, the generator room was central, instead of being at the end of everything. Your vault is significantly smaller than ours."
"Really?" Dr. Penske said.
"Yes. Where that solid wall is, we had a doorway to the other half of the vault."
The man's voice said. "I hate to point this out to you, but there actually is a doorway here. It's just hidden."
Curie heard the sound of the secret entrance opening, and if she had a heart, it would have leapt in her chest. Instead her turbine flared with sudden hope.