Nick and Raina's first attempt to crack the security at General Atomics Galleria did not go well. In fact:

"And if you know what's good for you, you won't come back, you pack of lily-livered Communist maggots!" the Director thundered from his office as the synth sleuth and the human agroecologist sprinted away, dodging laser bolts as they ran. King loped after them, carrying a Mr. Handy arm in his mouth like a bone.

Once they were out of line of sight and no one was pursuing them, they stopped. Raina was out of breath, and she sat down heavily on the curb. "Well, that didn't go as planned," Nick commented.

"It did not. Oh, wait, your coat is smoldering at the back!" Raina pointed out.

"Wha—Oh, thanks. Better it than my skin." Nick smothered the smoking hole with dirt. "Here," he said, going into her backpack, "Have a can of water."

"Thanks." Raina drank half of it in one go, then poured some into her cupped hand so King could lap it up. "So what went wrong? I had the ID from the factory."

"Lemme have a close look at it," he requested, and she passed it to him. He glanced at the front, then turned it over, and a moment later, laughed.

"It isn't anything you'd have been able to read, but I know what the problem was," he said. "This bit at the back here, that's computer code. This 'Supervisor Kincaid' who was supposed to launch the Grand Reopening had the first name of 'Roger'. He was six-two and weighed two hundred twenty five pounds. He was also quite human. You're the wrong sex and too small. I'm technically the right gender, but too thin and too robotic."

"Huh," Raina said. "I wish I'd shown it to you before."

"It's not a big deal. I need something to get the coolant pumping in the morning. Anyhow, I think I know how this situation can be salvaged. Who do we know who's human, male, and approximately the right size and weight?"

"Deacon from the Railroad?" Raina asked.

"Yes, but who knows where he is now? I was thinking of someone else entirely. Somebody with an appropriately military bearing for dealing with Mr. Gutsy back there."

"You mean Paladin Danse?" Raina scrambled to her feet.

"That's right. Of course his help won't come for free. He doesn't like us enough for that, but once we figure out what he wants, I bet we can work out a deal. We can talk about what to tell him, and what not to tell him, as we walk."

"All right. Which way is Cambridge from here?"

Nick pointed. "That way."

They started to walk. "Hmmm." Nick intoned.

"Hmmm what?" Raina asked. "It sounds like you're thinking of something."

"Yeah…Did anything strike you as wrong about Danse? Not something bad, necessarily, just something that didn't jibe about him."

She thought for a moment. "He made me feel flustered and uncomfortable. I was wondering if that meant I was sexually attracted to him or something. I hope not, because I didn't like him very much."

"I—uh, well. He isn't the kind of guy I'd like to see you with, so I hope not too. That isn't what I had in mind, however. Remember how you said you'd like to go back to Goodneighbor? That's what sparked the memory. Y'see, Danse said he grew up in the Capitol Wastelands, only just scrounging enough food to live on, or words to that effect. Now there's a guy who hangs around the Third Rail, that's the name of the bar in Goodneighbor, a merc by the name of MacCready, who's also from the Capitol Wastelands."

"You said the name MacCready like you'd like to spit," Raina observed.

"You're not that wrong," Nick said. "He's a merc, for one thing, and mercs will do anything for enough caps. It's in the name: Mercenary. Then he also used to be a Runner, and you know what I think of them. Anyhow, MacCready's on the smallish side, about five foot-four or so, and thin with it, not that he isn't tough. He's what you'd call wiry, you know? He's got bad teeth, too. He also has this wary, hungry but proud look about him, like a stray cat that hangs around hoping you'll put out a bowl of milk but is ready to dodge a kick if you're unfriendly."

"I can visualize him from what you've just told me. I'd put down a bowl of milk, and some meat scraps if I had them." Raina nodded.

"I know you would, but do it for a real cat, not for that guy. Metaphorically, I mean. Anyhow, now think of Danse. He's well over six feet tall and built like a linebacker. You know what a linebacker is, right?" Nick glanced at her.

"Of course. It's a position in football. Danse's teeth are nice and white and even, too."

"Then you can see what I'm getting at?" Nick asked.

"Yes. Danse is too tall and too well built for someone who says he grew up hungry and desperate. So either he's lying, or he's…mistaken. And even though I hardly know him, he doesn't strike me as a liar. It would be dishonorable and unbefitting a Paladin. What are you implying?"

"That Paladin Danse may not be who he thinks he is," Nick said. "But then again, everybody's idea of what it means to grow up hungry and desperate is a bit different. It could be that Danse means he didn't eat meat with every meal, and for him, that was a hardship. So let's not take this any further until we know more."

"Somewhere in there is the possibility he might be a synth," Raina stated. "One of those that Deacon and the Railroad helps."

"There is that possibility, yes." Nick nodded. "Now, speaking of liars, that Deacon is one, and the most outrageous, bold faced liar I ever met. Yet for all of that, I'd call him an honorable man. It's not what people say, it's what they do."

"I liked Deacon very much," Raina said. "I was sorry to see him go, because I would have liked to get to know him better. I laughed so much when he made me join in the polka!"

"That must have been when I was on guard. What happened?"

She grinned, remembering. "He really had no idea how to dance. There were elbows and knees flying all over the place. But it was fun. Nobody ever asked me to dance before."

Chatting in that way, the three of them, including King, made their way to Cambridge.

Paladin Danse was working on his power armor, repairing the right leg armor, and humming tunelessly to himself. The area around the police station had been much quieter of late, although a few feral ghouls still showed up every night to be shot. As it was broad daylight, he decided to risk opening the garage door to enjoy the fresh air. Stepping out into the sun, he stretched and looked around.

He saw a miracle. In the dirt around the edges of the courtyard, there was a faint haze of green. Not the sickly green of radiation, either. On closer inspection, there were seedlings growing in those small pockets of dirt. There was no telling what they were, because they were at the stage where all seedlings looked alike, just two fragile leaves on a stalk as thin as thread.

But they were green, that was the amazing thing. They were a healthy, beautiful green, and they had sprouted on their own. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled up to the roof. "Scribe Haylen!" He knew she was working on the antenna array up there, and after a moment, her head appeared over the edge of the roof.

"Sir?" she called back.

"Can you come down here for a moment? There's something I have to show you."

"Yes, sir!"

When she reached him and saw what he had summoned her for, she was just as amazed as he was. "I don't know what they are either, but you're correct. This is…unprecedented. Even if it's just grass or weeds, it's a sign of renewal. I won't try to transplant them now, but I'll write a report on them and monitor them until we're relieved of duty here. Then I'll dig some up and bring them along. I have some good news, sir. I believe that with a deep range transmitter to boost the signal, I'll be able to contact the Prydwen."

"That doesn't sound like good news, since to my knowledge, we have no such transmitter."

"No, but according to mission data, there should be one at the ArcJet Systems building, which is quite nearby," Haylen told him.

"Outstanding. What do we know about this ArcJet Systems?"

While she was filling him in, they heard a familiar bark. A German Shepard appeared over the crest of the road, and shortly after, two people came into view.

"What can they want?" he asked, crossly. If it had been Raina alone, he might have been pleased to see her, because the idea that she found him attractive had grown on him. She had a fine figure, although her face wasn't as delicately molded as Haylen's nor did she have the mature sensuality of Proctor Ingram. If only she kept better company…

"Hello," Raina began, with a smile that looked sweet and maybe a bit shy too, to his eyes.

"Ms. Queen," he returned her greeting. "I see you still have 'Righteous Authority'. I trust she's been serving you well?"

"Yes, actually. Especially against animals with deadly contagions. The heat kills both bacteria and viruses."

"Excellent. What can the Brotherhood of Steel do for you—or is this a social call?"

"It's not just a social call. This is going to take some explaining. You see, there's a facility to the north of here called the General Atomics Galleria. It was intended to be a showplace for General Atomics' robotics line. Something went wrong, though…" She told them about how she had found an ID in the home factory, and going there to find a fleet of robots doing nothing useful in the middle of nowhere. "My settlement could really use them, especially with planting season coming up on us so fast. I have a great deal of experience with Mr. Handys, and Nick has a great deal of expertise when it comes to programming—."

"I'll bet he does," Danse said under his breath, which earned him a few glares. "Why are you telling me all this?"

"Because physically you fit the description of the man who was supposed to reopen the Galleria," she explained. "The director is a Mr. Gutsy with military programming, and you have a very commanding personality as well as looking the part."

The words 'you have a very commanding personality' made him stand up a little straighter. "Compliments won't soften me up that easily, Ms. Queen."

Her innocent expression convinced him it wasn't flattery as much as her reply. "It's simply the truth, Paladin Danse. Anyway, if there is anything you want or need in exchange for your help, name it. If we can do it or get it, we will."

"As it happens, there is. Near here is the ArcJet Systems building. There's something in there that we need to signal our home base. We know very little about it, and I could use the back up. If we secure the part today, then tomorrow I will accompany you to the Galleria. However, there are two conditions. On behalf of the Brotherhood, I claim any and all technical documents that may be recovered from that site, and I want you to consider, to seriously consider, joining the Brotherhood of Steel as a Scribe."

"Oh!" Raina Queen blinked. "I don't know that I would be suited to the Brotherhood, but I could consider it. As far as the technical documents go, I might need copies of some of them, if they pertain to the Mr. Handys."

"If that's all you need, information about the Handys, then yes, you could have copies. Then we have an agreement. Just let me get into my power armor."

A/N: Next chapter, ArcJet!