The hike back to General Atomics Galleria was uneventful, due in no small part to the fact that he and Raina had killed off or scared away anything dangerous when they were there a few days ago. Even Danse seemed in a good mood, thanks to making contact with Command the night before, and he bounded along in his power armor like he was walking on the moon.
One thing about the morning stuck out for Nick Valentine, however, and that was the green. Here and there along the way, there were patches of green, places where some Minuteman or settler had tossed one of Raina's seed and earth filled eggs. There was something about looking at the color green, at least when it was a living, natural green, that made you feel more alive yourself. Even if you were differently alive, like he was.
After all the trouble last time, the second visit to the Galleria was nothing if not anticlimactic. Danse simply walked into the compound, went in the central control offices, and barked "Stand down, soldier!" the moment the Mr. Gutsy started questioning him. He then ran the 'Grand Reopening' protocols, and the programming of every robot on the premises reverted to the backup files. The real surprise came after that, when he and Raina began assessing how much repair work each would need. Danse helped. He found the room where the spares were kept, so they didn't have to cannibalize the broken Mr. Handys. He helped with the spot-welding, applied rust remover and wiped it off afterward, attached new arms and even threw together a few mods to enhance their carrying capacities.
What was more, he was even nice about it. "I always had a knack for this sort of work," he brushed off thanks and praise, "and you needed very little assistance compared to the help you gave me at ArcJet."
Nick smiled as he went back to programming in a few other changes to the bots' protocol-code copied from the programming of the robots at Greygarden, so they would be able to function independently as the supervisors there did. So Danse can actually be a decent guy, when he feels like it. Plus, nobody can say he isn't willing to work.
Neither the detective nor the agroecologist had any inkling why the Paladin was so happy. Not yet, anyway. But they found out soon enough.
In the galleria's cafe, Raina was shoveling sand over the gas puddles on the floor, while King was drowsing in the sun outside. Nick was soldering a loose connection in Bean's torch arm when he saw King suddenly go on alert. Nick's hearing was within the normal human range, but more acute than most people's and so a moment later he heard what the dog did, a chuffing hum, one which built slowly into the throb of motors.
Raina looked up from her work. "Hah. Score one for the woman who always carries a shovel with her-could I have moved all this sand without it? Not nearly as easily. What's that noise?"
"I dunno," Nick replied, finishing the connection and going over to the door.
At that moment, Danse appeared from a building down the block and waved to get their attention. "You're about to witness something well worth seeing," he called happily, and pointed to the sky, where a dark shape was getting more and more distinct. It was too regular and symmetrical to be a storm cloud. It grew and grew as it came, the sound increasing as well, until it filled the sky with both its bulk and volume.
"That's the Prydwen," the Paladin explained with pride, "Isn't she magnificent?"
A man's voice suddenly blared from the armored zeppelin. "People Of The Commonwealth, Do Not Interfere! Our Intentions Are Peaceful! We Are The Brotherhood Of Steel!"
Nick and Raina looked at each other. Her face was a perfect picture of dismay, and his must have been much the same. They looked back up at the sky. Smaller aircraft could now be seen around the behemoth, like a school of pilot fish surrounding a huge, metallic shark.
"I don't like this," Raina said.
"Nor do I," Nick mused. "'Deep into that darkness peering, Long I stood there, wondering, fearing,'" he quoted.
"I don't like this at all," she emphasized. "Is it just me, or does the subtext read, 'We could squash all of you like bugs if you get in our way, so don't. Aren't we nice people for warning you? Just remember that going forward.'"
"No, no, I got that message, too. Peaceful intentions, my eye. The road to hell is paved with good intentions," Nick said, grimly.
"Wait, what is Danse doing?" Raina craned her neck to see.
The Paladin had set off some sort of signal. Shortly thereafter, three vertibirds peeled away from the bigger airship and descended, landing in the open area next to the Galleria. About a dozen people emerged, some in power armor, some not. Nick, observing that the central bird was larger and shinier, remarked to Raina, "Bet you anything that's a head honcho, if not the head honcho. What do you say we stroll on over there and watch what happens? -From a safe distance, of course."
She nodded, and they nonchalantly sauntered over, stopping when they were far enough away so as not to pose a threat to military paranoiacs, but close enough to hear what was going on. In the meantime, everyone had gone through the protocol and salutes. The VIP in the middle of all of this was a man wearing a leather coat with a shearling lining. His hair was dark and his beard almost as fleecy as the coat's lining. He was what some would call ugly-handsome, with bone structure too good to call him hideous but too rough-hewn to call him good-looking. He also had a prominent scar or two on his face, which helped make him look dour.
"Paladin," the bigwig said to Danse, "I can only wonder what it is that is so important I had to be called groundside to see it."
"Sir, it is. I can hardly overstate the significance of this discovery," Danse replied. "If you'll follow me..." The vertibird pilots and three guards in power armor stayed with their craft, but the rest went with Danse and whoever his boss was. One was a cadet or squire, whatever they called the kids in training, a boy or a girl about Nat, Piper's sister's age. Knowing human nature, Nick hoped that for the kids' sake, they had some honorable, responsible people making sure nobody took advantage of them, but knowing human nature, he was afraid they didn't.
He and Raina tagged along as Danse led the group to a patch of ground by the ruined highway. Nick had noticed on the way in that there was something growing there. Someone had dropped a seed-egg there and some of the seeds had taken root.
"This," Danse said, gesturing at the area. "Healthy, fresh new growth, without radiation damage or signs of mutation. This isn't the only patch in the area. The Cambridge outpost has similar growth, and I've noticed several others across the region. I made positional notations of each one."
The leader knelt down, looking at the handful of sturdy, hopeful spears of green. He reached out to touch them, then hesitated. "Senior Scribe?" he asked.
"Yes, Elder Maxson," the woman said, and knelt as well. "As you know, I come from out West, and I've been to Zion Canyon, so I can say..." She reached out, detached something from a plant very carefully, "that this is a seedling of a maple tree." She held up the dry, papery wing of a maple seed, split at one end where the sprout had burst out of its casing.
"A maple tree," the Elder repeated. "How is it possible?"
"Maple seeds evolved a wing like this one so the wind could carry them for miles. It's possible that an unusual weather pattern at the right time of year swept it here-but then there are the other seedlings. Perhaps they were buried so deep underground that they never sprouted, and something brought them to the surface. I can't be sure," the scribe told him.
"Either way, that normal plant life can survive here again-," Maxson let the sentence trail off. Standing up, he met Danse's eyes. "Paladin, you showed the correct judgement. If the environment is recovering, this alters our entire mission. This may become a permanent annexation." His steady gaze swept the horizon-and stopped when it reached Nick and Raina.
"Paladin Danse, is that a synth?" Maxson asked, in the same tone of voice someone might ask, 'Is the outhouse overflowing?'
"Only the shell of one," Danse replied, much to Nick's surprise. "Functionally, it's more akin to a Mr. Handy. It belongs to Miss Queen, there."
Maxson's eyes went to Raina and found her lacking. Well, she looked like what she was-a woman who'd worked hard all day doing a dirty job, dressed in practical but shapeless and stained mechanic's overalls, her hair scraped back and out of the way. Not a vision of loveliness, in other words.
"Well, it looks to be on its last legs already. I suppose it's of no consequence," Maxson turned back to Danse. "What brought you here, Paladin?"
"Reciprocation, sir. Ms. Queen was of material help in securing the deep range transmitters. Her settlement needed the robots here for agricultural work," Danse explained.
"It is important to have community support," Maxson allowed. "I trust she'll remember this when it comes time for us to reprovision. Very well. One vertibird will take you back to Cambridge, Paladin, and fortify the outpost there. The second will return with my vertibird to the Prydwen, where Senior Scribe Neriah will put together a unit to study environmental conditions. That's all."
Nick and his young companion watched as the groups split up and returned to their aircraft. Danse snapped off a salute and a nod in their direction before they took off. Once all three craft were safely away, he and Raina exchanged uneasy looks.
"I don't even know where to begin," Raina took a deep breath, puffed out her cheeks and let out a sound that was somewhere between a whistle and a sigh. "I've unwittingly made the Commonwealth more attractive to the Brotherhood of Steel."
"True," Nick nodded. "But even if you knew, would you have done otherwise?"
"No," she replied. "Why did they have a child with them?"
"As a trainee, I'm guessing, but maybe it was somebody's son or daughter. I'm just hoping they look after the kid properly."
He went on to explain why and what could happen to a vulnerable, trusting child among authority figures they were sworn to obey. Raina, whose youth had been sheltered beyond belief, was appalled. "Have you ever investigated cases like that?"
He let out a sigh of his own. "It happened more back before the War. The original Nick Valentine put in his time in a special unit which looked into those cases. Most of those memories just aren't there. His mind scabbed them over, because it hurt too bad. I'm sure it still happens, but nobody exactly comes to me for an investigation." Nick paused. "I was impressed and surprised by what Danse did. He lied for me-well, I say me, but I think it might have been more for you."
"Ohhh, no, he didn't," Raina waved a hand. She was looking up at the mass of Prydwen as it receded. "Nick...do you think their whole attitude, that they look down on us, is because they literally look down on us? From up there, everyone must look like tiny specks. Insignificant."
"There's something in that," he said. "In Diamond City, the people in the upper stands are all snobs."
"Hmmm," she hummed. "How do you suppose somebody could take down that zeppelin? Without weapons or violence, I mean."
"Now don't go getting any hasty ideas," he cautioned her. "Remember, there are innocent kids on that things."
"I haven't forgotten. That's why I said without weapons or violence. Most of the people up there are probably decent people, but together... I'm going to have to think about this. Now, let's get the Mr. Handys and Mr. Gutsys together and tell them where to go."
A/N: Hey everyone, the Prdwyn has arrived! This fic is now about a third of the way done! Wahoo!