Old Mormon Fort

In the relative safety of North Las Vegas is the New Vegas branch of Crimson Caravan. With high walls of concrete and four or five long houses for personnel and offices, it's a semi-self-sufficient slice of heaven. First thing I did was go to the office and arrange for the Vikki and Vance memorabilia to be shipped to Primm on the first caravan heading there. I was told it would take a while given how the Long 15 was blocked, but that wasn't my problem. If the people of Primm had paid me a thousand caps to get this stuff home safely, I couldn't have done it just yet. My bike was in Nipton being repaired.

But everything was boxed up and that was good enough for me. At least one job had been done today. Well two. There was a campfire by the main office, and quite a few of the Crimson Caravan workers were off shift. I had kept my head low to this point, but there was Ringo, and he pointed me out. Said I was the one who'd gotten him out of Goodsprings and the whole camp erupted in cheers for lil old me.

I told them to thank Delilah, it was her truck that got us all out. Otherwise we'd have all been walking for over a week through Powder Ganger territory.

"Are you kidding Theresa?!" he said, bottle in his hand and his scarf hanging sloppily from his neck. "You got us through Powder Ganger territory, we saved Primm from being overrun by convicts, even rescued the town deputy!" More hoots and hollers came to life in the enthusiasm.

I didn't feel better. Powder Gangers are cons from the NCRCF in what had been Jean. Now this is supposed to be work release, but with a catch. Work release in California works right: low risk inmates are given a chance to learn new skill sets and work off a lighter sentence. In Nevada, they decided to ship hardcore convicts: violent killers and gang bangers and terrorists. They even sent Samuel Cooke, that Samuel Cooke, the I-15 Bomber, to Jean and gave him dynamite to clear the track for rail lines. And what did the I-15 Bomber promptly do? He blew up the guards and took over the prison. I know, shock, gasp!

Now for the last month, Nevada south of the Las Vegas suburbs have been crawling with cons chuckin dynamite. If there were low level cons, they'd walk away, try and set up a new life. I might help them. But these assholes decide they want to rob and terrorize everyone they can get their hands on. Ringo just happened to be part of a caravan that got ambushed. I'd driven off the crooks coming after him, but I was afraid that they'd try and attack Goodsprings in the meantime. Still, my PipPhone feature still worked, and I gave the townsfolk my number, just in case they got attacked. I hadn't heard anything but it'd only been two days since I left the place.

But Ringo, a youngish guy came right up to me and gave me a hug. I felt some of the wind coming out of me. Heard it too. "I didn't figure you were the hugging type."

"Hell, neither did I. But I owe you big time."

I returned the hug and shook my head as he released me, "I can't celebrate. I'm concerned about Goodsprings."

He smiled at my lopsided, "Come on, courier, short of us trying to storm the prison, leaving was the best thing we could do. And besides, you got those extra troops dispatched from Mojave Outpost. Hopefully, they'll send a squad to protect Goodsprings."

"That was our deal with Lt. Hayes. Wasn't it?" I said. I was trying to take comfort in it.

"So don't worry about it! NCR's good as their word. Besides, you organized that militia just in case. Joe Cobb and his boys won't dare attack the town now."

I wanted to believe that, but hope is a dangerous thing. "I hope not."

"Well, won't you stay? We can celebrate you all night." he asked

I laughed mirthlessly, "Would you believe, I have to go up to the mountains to look for someone?"

"Oh." This surpised him, but didn't seem to disappoint him. "Well then, just stay for a little while. Give us 45 minutes."

I agreed. Someone had a fiddle and another one had a drum and there was dancing by the campfire. Willow danced like a white person, arms flaying, spinning around, no grace whatsoever. Niner was better, and got better still when he took up Willow and started dancing with her in some kind of square dance, well outside the fire.

I sat down on a folding chair and lit up a drag. I needed to take the edge off. I watched the merriment, and was having a good time even though I didn't think the music was particularly good. But eventually, after the 45 minutes and two cigarettes I got my group together and explained everything. I was feeling the buzz, and unfortunately with that came a desire to take a nap I was in no condition to take.

"So, after all that bullshit, we're still not going to Vegas?" asked Niner.

I sighed, "Yeah, well, I'm not. You're free to go."

"Seriously, is this what you do Six? Rescue every stray dog you come across?"

"Pretty much Niner, pretty much."

"Yeah, but why?"

"Because…no one else will do it Niner."

"I don't mind going up into the mountains," said Willow. "In fact it sounds like fun."

"It can be," I said, "But it is cazador country. Some of it anyway."

Niner grumbled, "All right, I'll come with. I just hope we don't run into any crazy Supermutants up there."

I shrugged, "They'll be easier to handle than cazadors."

"OK, what's a cazador?" asked Willow.

I was about to answer this when Delilah answered for me, "A Cazador is like a tarantula hawk-"

"So it's a bird?"

Delilah shook her head. "No. That's the name for a wasp. Their sting is so painful it's like setting your blood on fire. And in the cazador's case, it also can kill you in minutes. Normally a wasp is two inches long, but a cazador is about six inches to a foot. It flies fast and you can't hit it with bullets."

"You can, but you need targeting software like VATS to hit them."

"Oh. So how do you kill them?" asked Willow.

Delilah said "Normally, you hunt them with explosives, then burn out their larva sacs with fire. I've heard they do it with flamethrowers."

"Jesus!" exclaimed Willow.

"Pretty much."

At that point we'd all decided to go, which was good. For the sake of not getting our vehicles stolen, we left them in North Las Vegas and took a taxi into Freeside. This isn't as easy as this sounds because the taxi service is a short bus with the side panels removed so the passengers can shoot at people trying to rob the bus, and can jump out in case someone decides to barricade the road. You don't have to worry about this in North Las Vegas but the second you get inside Freeside, it's another story.

Trying to compare Freeside to anything is difficult. If you're a very old timer like me, you'd say it was like Mogadishu. But most people these days aren't aware that that's even a word, much less the former capital of Somalia (I mean it could still be, but it could also be there's no Somalians anymore, not that anyone would shed tears either way). I don't care for much of House's vision: the strip is great, but leaving Freeside to its own devices makes it real easy for potential customers to get robbed before they ever get to those fabulous, renovated casinos. It seem, well, sloppy at the least. I don't much like government interference either but for God's sake you need something.

Freeside is also a shithole. As I explained to my compatriots Freemont Street thrived after the war, and for a post war city with a collection of….not quite gangs, but local self-protection groups, the city got along pretty well. It had vaporators to the point it didn't need water from Lake Mead, there were some school, plenty of urban farming. The city could only contain about 50,000 people but that's still better than any place in Nevada save Reno. That was until the riots began about 20 years. It's widely accepted it was Frumentarii at work, but maybe it was too early for them. Fatally weakened the Desert Rangers though.

I told my group to have the guns sticking out the sides of the bus, and it worked as no one tried to attack us as we sped along. Finally, we got to Old Mormon Fort, the regional headquarter for the Followers. Before the war, well, it was built by Mormons are the first permanent settlement in the Las Vegas valley, which goes to show you how utterly desolate the valley floor is. It's gotten better with technology. But the doors were wide open and except for the dark it was easy to see the small camp inside the fort's walls.

I asked around and found Julie Farkas making what was probably her last round of the night. Nice woman, but with an unpainted Mohawk that makes her look kind of like a punk rocker.

"Oh, hello Theresa."

"Hi Julie, I'm in a bit of a rush…"I gathered my thoughts. "I hope you don't need any medical supplies, I don't have them. Also…" I side stepped to my left and back. "This is Delilah, she's from Goodsprings, she's been training under Doc Mitchell there and she wants to be a doctor, and I promised I'd put in a good word for her given how she….kinda helped save my life….in a medical capacity. Also, this is…." And I nearly tripped over myself scooting behind Veronica. I put my hands on her shoulders, "This is Veronica, please show her around and answer any questions. She's a gearhead and I think she'd make a valuable addition to the team."

"O…okay…" stammered Julie.

I totally under stood I was putting her on the spot, but I continued, "And, I'm not finished. Come up here ED-E" and up come the floating bot, "This is ED-E. And ED-E, this is Julie Farkas."

The bot chirped and bounced up and down, as if nodding its head.

"Now ED-E play back that audio log you played at Gibson's Scrap Yard yesterday."

The bot pivoted in midair, look at me and then chirping. Like it didn't know what I was talking about.

"Oh Come ED-E. The one from Whitley."

The bot made what I can only describe as a long, happy sounding trill.

"Wait, you like Whitley?"

The bot chirped.

"OK, play his recording for Julie here."

From the bot's speaker face came a man's voice "Subject E: Diagnosis complete. Begin Recording. My name is Whitley. I'm a researcher at Adams Air Base. Until recently I was in charge of the duraframe reinforcement project for the combat model eyebots. Eyebot Duraframe subject E is both the prototype and the last functional model in this test group. I was prepared to make several significant upgrades to the machines. However, as the project was cancelled and all duraframe assets are being diverted to Hellfire Armor, I am sending this model to the Navarro Outpost. If you're listening to this recording from one of our Enclave Outposts in Chicago, give this unit whatever repairs it need so it can continue to Navarro."

"I, I see." said Julie.

"Do you have anyone here I could bring ED-E, hack his databanks and get them offloaded. Wait, no, no, I want the databanks downloaded, but not deleted. I'm just giving you guys first crack at it. That is if you want it."

Julie wore a labcoat with a speaker in the left pocket. She reached for it and brought it up to her face. From behind us I heard a loud "Dr. Gannon and Dr. Martimer to the courtyard. I repeat, Dr. Gannon and Dr. Martimer to the courtyard."

"That's efficient," I said.

She shrugged in an 'ah shucks' kinda way. "I'm getting better at being regional administrator."

"Ha, I guess you are."

We went in a nearby tent and I sat down while we waited for the good doctors to arrive. It didn't take very long for Dr. Gannon to walk into the bright center courtyard light, at which point Julie went out and fetched him. When he got into the tent, he looked around surprised. He saw the eyebot before he saw me. It threw him for a loop and then he saw me, sitting in the corner.

"Don't look at me like we've never met before Arcade. Sit down." I patted a seat beside me.

"O…Kay," he sat, "So, what has our famous courier dragged in this time?"

"The best kind of tech, my man. Enclave tech! Now sit!"

He finally sat in the chair. The tent was brightly lit with an overhead LED light, but that meant it cast strong, concealing shadows across his face. Arcade was in his 30s, nebbish, blond hair and green eyes with a high forehead. I'd call him handsome except for the thick black eyeglasses he wore.

An awkward silence passed for second between us, then Dr. Gannon said "Don't want to be... alarmist or anything, but maybe you should ditch that Eyebot. Robot. Whatever that thing is. Who knows what it's programmed for? Maybe tomorrow you'll take out an iguana-on-a-stick and that'll activate its….mini-nuke self-destruct sequence."

"That's what you're here for, Arcade," I replied, "You and this Dr. Martimer are going to hack it safely, and get all that sweet, sweet Enclave tech off of it."

As I expected, Arcade got defensive, "And what makes you think I know anything about Enclave tech?"

I rolled my eyes. "Oh look, look! Arcade's ex-Enclave! He's ex-Enclave!" I looked around mockingly, "See? Nobody cares."

"Actually, Theresa," Julie said, "We would have to remove Dr. Gannon from our organization and report him to NCR authorities. That is if there was any proof."

That was the politest way I have ever been told to shut the fuck up. Julie Farkas was amazing that way.

"Really?"

"Really, what?" asked Julie.

"After all the NCR does to defame the Followers, you'd still turn in someone who couldn't have been more than 15 when Navarro fell?"

"Yes Theresa," Julie hissed at me, "There are some people who consider us anarchists, but harboring Enclave would cause the Followers to be labeled terrorists."

I found myself standing at that remark. "Wai….what?! When did this happen?"

Arcade started to speak, but Julie raised her hand to silence him. "It's been law for almost ten years. Recently, the NCR has been cracking down on anything it deems terror related because of all the attacks that have been happening on the roads to Nevada."

"So, let me get this straight. The NCR, instead of actually tracking down Frumentarii, they're using it as an excuse to crush dissent?"

"No Theresa, it's that anyone who knowingly associates with either Caesar's Legion, the Brotherhood of Steel or the Enclave is an enemy of the Republic."

"That's every trader on the right bank of the Colorado!" I protested.

Out of Arcade came a mirthless, single, note. Then he said "Who wants a nation of law-abiding citizens? What's there in that for anyone? But just pass the kind of laws that can neither be observed nor enforced or objectively interpreted – and you create a nation of law-breakers – and then you cash in on guilt. Now that's the system, Mr. Reardon, that's the game, and once you understand it, you'll be much easier to deal with."

I looked at Arcade, not liking what I'd heard, but only because I couldn't place it.

Willow asked, "That's a quote isn't it? What from?"

"Atlas Shrugged my dear."

"Is that a book?" she asked.

"It's…trying to be a novel," said Arcade, "Then it kind of forgets that it's a supposed to be story and not political tract."

"Huh, who's it by?" asked Willow.

"Ayn Rand. She was a…" he didn't quite know how to finish it.

I answered, "She was a Jew who thought she was too good for God and rejected Jewish morality in favor of the most predatory kind of capitalism, thinking it would make men free. She was basically the mirror image of Leon Trotsky."

Willow, bless her heart, had this look of utter confusion on her face. She said "I don't know any of that."

"Hmm." I had gotten Arcade's attention, "Why would you consider those two alike?"

"Both are irreligious ideologues: arrogant, belligerent, fundamentally blinded by their ideas, wildly destructive in their aims. Ayn Rand is a better person than Trotsky, but her chief virtue is that her philosophy doesn't lend itself to mass politics and therefore can't be totaliarianized. Her glorification of unfiltered capitalism is as sure a path of tyranny as Trotsky's Marxism."

"Huh," said Arcade, "I never thought about it that way. I don't think I agree with you, but I get where you're coming from."

Niner, standing by a wooden crate, looked at me funny "What the hell are you talking about Six?"

Yeah," asked Willow, "What are you talking about?"

I looked at Arcade and his eyes shifted to let me know he was going to handle it, "It's…nothing. Just if you want to read Atlas Shrugged, do it on Optical Flash. It's a thousand pages long."

"Yikes!" said Niner, "I don't think I've read a thousand pages in like, ever."

I'd like to say finally, at this point Dr. Martimer came in, but she didn't. Julie went up to check on her and for 20 long minutes all of us made polite chitchat. No more academic discussions. Arcade kept insisting he wasn't interesting, that Willow in particular would get better stories out of a Freeside junkie, his words not mine. But the jig was up. Arcade was insufferable at times, but he was the best educated man I'd met in the post apocalypse. Not the most specialized in any subject but he was sort of a polymath in that he knew a lot about just about everything. This is how I knew he was Enclave: it takes a lot of Optical Flash in order to know that much, and despite what people claim, without extensive classroom time, Optical Flash doesn't actually translate very well into knowing things.

Finally, Julie came back with a black woman who was yawning and rubbing her eyes. Her light brown hair was unkempt, and her lab coat hung slackly from her shoulders. We introduced, I had ED-E play the recording. Then the good doctor's eyes widened

Julie Farkas asked, "Can you offload the databanks April?"

"Ah, I don't know. Let me take a look."

"Wait, April, do you need Arcade?"

Dr. Martimer looked at Julie and shook her head, "I don't know. I'll need to ready my equipment to see if the bot is encrypted in something we can break."

Julie's bottom lip curled up over her upper lip on one side. She asked me, "Theresa, how long are you going to be in town for?"

"I have to leave tomorrow to look for a hunter and his friends in the mountains."

"Would you mind taking a detour to Jacobstown?"

"Jacobs-wht?"

"Jacobstown. It's community of supermutants at the Mt. Charleston Lodge. They have an old scientist working up there by the name of Dr. Henry. If April can't crack the encryption, then maybe Dr. Henry would be a better go-to."

"You want me to check in the morning before I leave?"

"That would be preferable, yes."

"Ok then. ED-E!"

The bot chirped in my general direction.

"Go with Dr. Martimer."

The bot chirped in a dispointed trill.

"I'll be back for you tomorrow, well, I'll be in tomorrow."

"Then I guess it's settled then," said Julie.

"Wait, hold up!" shouted Arcade "There's something about that robot," he pointed at ED-E "that doesn't seem... all right to me. I'm just saying that if it were to 'fall' into Lake Mead and be irreparably damaged... and if you threw an EMP grenade in after it... Well, there are worse things happening in the world, right?"

Julie put her hands on her hips "Dr. Gannon! Why are you making that kind of accusation?!"

Arcade was calm as he leaned over his knee "Because Julie, the last time Theresa Miller took Enclave technology to be deciphered nukes went off and cratered the Divide."

"Wait!" said Veronica, "Wait, wait wait! Are you saying Theresa here was responsible for The Divide?!"

"Um….yes." Said Arcade.

"I did not!" I said. "Yes Veronica, I delivered tech from Navarro to the NCR base in Hopeville. I told them it was likely a trap if it was encrypted enough to require the supercomtuers at the missile base, it might have a virus that would hijack the system and launch the nukes. They said they were aware of that possibility and they were taking precautions. I offered to help them build a cage so the virus, if there was one, couldn't run any execution commands. I could have even helped them set up an emulator if the data opened up with executables. They said they knew their business better than any courier…" And then I inhaled a huge breath because I'd been talking so fast, "And then I got the fuck out of dodge because anything with high grade encryption from the Enclave is probably a fucking booby trap."

I took in another breath. I was hungry for air, "So in conclusion, yes I delivered the package to Hopeville, but I wasn't responsible for the nukes going off. Naw uh, not even zero percent responsible." I shook my head.

"And yet, you took off through Caesar's territory and didn't come back for three years," said Arcade.

"You bet your ass I took off! I figured the NCR was going to make me a scape goat for that fuckery. I didn't know I wasn't wanted until after I'd reached the east coast."

"And yet, everyone around here seems unwilling to learn from history," said Arcade.

No one said anything for a second. Not even ED-E moved.

Then Dr. Martimer chuckled, "Well, I'm flattered you think my equipment has an ICBM connection, but no. The only thing that will happen if that little bot is rigged is it will fry my equipment. And that's a risk I'm willing to take."

Arcade was less than enthused by the deadpan expression. "Fine. I assume fortune will favor the bold."

"It will," said Julie, "have faith Arcade."

"Faith means not wanting to know what is true."

"Now, now Arcade," said Julie, gentle as always, "do you really want to go around quoting Nietzsche?"

Arcade bobbed his head while wavering his hand in front of him as though not sure it would go one way or another, "Very well, a man of courage is also full of faith." Although it's debatable how much he seemed to believe it.

"That's better," said Julie. "Now, go on everyone. Except you Theresa, I need a moment with you in private."

"OK," I didn't know if Julie was going to chew me out or not, but I figured it would be better to take my lumps. "You guys with me, take five. Stay in the center of the courtyard where I can find you all."

I followed her out to a dark corner of the Fort, all alone. It was plenty dark by this point, to where it made sense for me to activate the night vision node on my optical nerve. The great thing about this was that it was full color nightvision. None of that sea of green bullshit mods you buy for scopes from the Gun Runners. This is full spectrum top of the line pre-war implants.

I could tell Julie was exasperated with me, so I said "Come on, let me have it."

"Theresa, I I don't even know how to say this to you. Stop pestering Arcade. He's nervous enough."

"Look Julie, I had him pegged as Enclave after Operation Sunburst. That was five fucking years ago. We got into Helios One and he starts babbling about some doomsday weapon and Poseidon's connections to the US military, and that was before we even talked to the plant, not the power plant, the aid to that Fantastic asshole."

"Yes, and you've always done commendable work for the Followers, Theresa-"

"My point is, the guy can't lie his way out of a paper bag. And he can't keep his fucking mouth shut either. Remember when we scoped out the Van Graffs, and just looking at their merch, he couldn't shut up about how much he knew about energy weapons. Guy can't keep a secret to save his life. And he's got to learn. It's an open secret, he's better at concealing that he's gay and he's still open about that!"

"Theresa!"

"I didn't even start this! He was the one who got defensive when I mentioned he was there to hack Enclave tech. I can't-"

"Enough Theresa!" and yes she said it fervently enough to merit an exclamation mark, even though it was barely above a whisper. "Keep it down! Yes, I understand Arcade's…indiscretions, but as long as I can protect him I will. But I need your help. And that's what I want to talk to you about."

"Uh huh….go on."

"Things have really started to come to a head in Freeside. Tensions between the townies and NCR tourists have been going downhill fast lately. A lot of innocent people will get hurt if things blow up."

"OK, so what do you want me to do?"

"The big man around here is The King. Not much happens in Freeside that he doesn't know about."

"Yes and water is wet. Go on."

"He has the most influence locally, and some of his crew haven't helped the situation by harassing NCR citizens and charging double for water. Some NCR soldiers have been bringing in supplies, but none of it is going to Freeside locals. I've tried to speak to both sides to no avail"

"And how can I help?"

"Well, since you were able to set up our supplies so well, I figured you'd be able to get in the King's good graces. And for that, I need someone to go to Jacobstown."

"What does the King have to do with Jacobsown?"

"I'm getting to that. You see, the King has a dog, a cyberdog named Rex. Rex? It breaks my heart every time I see him. He's such a good dog."

"The King brought him here for treatment then?"

"Yes, a few months ago. We had to tell him there was nothing we could do. No, Rex's condition is way beyond anything we can handle. He requires brain surgery, and some sophisticated cybernetics work, too."

"But someone in Jacobstown does?"

"I believe so. There's an old scientist named Dr. Henry who reportedly specializes in this sort of procedure. He'd probably be the best bet. So while you're heading up into the mountains, I figure you might be able to investigate. Also, Rex's still in pretty shape, and can probably help you in your search."

"Can I get lodging for my crew tonight? And not with the drunks. I'm not going to have time for them to sober up tomorrow morning."

"Theresa you know very well there are no drugs-"

"Allowed. But the boy I've come with can sniff a high three miles away. This stuff is easy enough to smuggle in, he'll find it."

She didn't look pleased but she didn't look like she was going to say no. "Fine, we have some guest quarters but promise me you'll take Rex to see Dr. Henry, it would do us a world of good."

"I can't promise if the King won't let me take him."

"Will you go tonight?"

I grumbled a bit, "Yeah, I'll leave right now. Just ah, can you show Delilah around, get her situated? It's the end of the road for her and me, but I made a promise."

"Yeah, I can do that."

We met in the center court, and Delilah gave me a whoop and a hug. It felt good to make someone's day.

I wasn't too afraid of Freeside thugs, but I thought it better to have an escort so I asked my companions to come with me. That made four of us: Niner, Willow, Veronica and myself. Told them I was going to show them the Kings and the Silver Rush.