Hound Dog

"I don't like this Six."

We were moving down Freemont Street at a somewhat leisurely pace. Doesn't make much sense to run in the dark.

"Nervous Niner?" I asked.

"Fuck yeah. Freeside is like, really dangerous at night. Not, not that I'm scared or anything."

"It's OK to be on edge Niner."

"I'm not worried about me. I'm worried about the girls."

"Uh, mister, I have power fist on my hand," said Veronica. "I know how well to take care of myself."

"Yeah, I'm sure lady, if you can see them coming. The problem is that Freeside has just enough working lights to blind you to what's coming out of the alleyways. These Freeside hoods are bad news. The best of em, you'll never see them coming until they put a knife to your throat. Then it's, ah, all downhill from there. Especially if you're a woman."

"I'll lead from behind then," I offered, and I slowed my pace so that my three companions were ahead of me. "So Veronica? What do you think of the Followers so far?"

Veronica tried to turn around to face me, but since we were walking it was making her awkward so she stammered out a few sounds before looking ahead and speaking up so I could hear her, "I can't help but be impressed with what they're doing, although I didn't get to see a lot of their medical services. I'm more impressed you and that Dr. Gannon fellow could discuss 20th century political philosophy. Although, could you tell me who Leon Trotsky was. I remember the name, but I don't remember the context."

"He was….ah basically he was a Marxist revolutionary who won the Russian Civil War for the Communists. He was exiled and killed by Joseph Stalin as a rival to power. When I was growing up, this made him something of a hero to the radical left. A pure soul who was sacrificed to the ambitious…corruptions of Stalin. Truth is, he was just another Communist shitbag who got what he had coming to him."

I looked around trying to see if there was anyone coming up towards us. I had an inbuilt HUD and could track movement, although it wasn't nearly as sophisticated as motion detector upgrade for the PipBoy I was wearing. There were a lot of people on the sidewalk.

Most of the Freemont Street Experience, or whatever it was now, had been rebuilt in the last ten years. Places like the Golden Nugget, the Atomic Wrangler and the Palisades showed off bright neon signs, most of them based on old 20th century designs. I wondered if House sent them as pictures. Was a silent partner in all the little casinos and hotels along Freemont Street?

"You know, talking with you is so interesting, Theresa," said Willow. "I thought I was pretty decently educated, but I don't know anything next you."

"Well ask, ask away. I'm an old fart and I love to answer questions."

"Old fart?"

"Didn't I tell you, I'm a ghoul?"

"No you're not."

"Yeah I am. Had a lot of surgery to make me look all young and pretty. I'm from before the war. The big war."

Willow stopped and looked at me. "You're kidding!"

"Keep walking kid," and she complied, keeping beside me. "But yeah, autodocs are great. If you've got the money. And vanity. I personally don't see a reason to go around looking like someone took a cheese grater to my face. Not even in the post apocalypse."

"Ok…then, why are we going to see a guy called 'the King?'"

"Because he rules the Kings, and the Kings rule Freeside. For the moment anyway."

"Yeah, but why's he called the King? And why does House let him rule Freeside?"

"Well, he's called the King because he leads a gang of Elvis imitators. Now Elvis Presley was a mid-20th century singer, and kinda the patron saint of Las Vegas. So people in pre-war times used to dress up like him and pretend to be him. For fun."

"That's strange," said Veronica.

"People do all kinds of stupid shit for fun. Because it's fun. Anyway it used to be that every building on the Strip was occupied by a gang or a collection of people offering gambling and tits. When House finally decided to make his move, he forced everyone out of the Strip hotels, and recruited tribals to run them as the families. The King and his hoodlums were small timers that didn't want to play ball with House so they had to leave the Strip. House lets them rule here because he hasn't decided to crush them yet. House doesn't give a shit about Freeside, he's all about controlling the Strip for the moment. I don't think he has the muscle to pacify Freeside. You know, he could destroy the Kings tomorrow but establishing order in Freeside is another matter. That answer your question?"

"Wow!" said Willow "You know a lot about this place. And frankly, is there anything you don't know about?"

"Um, medicine, and quantum physics. If I knew anything about quantum physics I've have built a time machine by now and kept the Chinese from launching the nukes. I understand it would mean that everything in the last 100 years wouldn't have happened and none of you would exist, but…frankly if they build a time machine and any of you try and prevent….us preventing…well I'll kill you all. I hope you understand."

I meant it too. If time travel existed I had a duty to keep the nukes from going off. But I really doubted that it was possible. Hitler was well past 200 years ago, and a tragedy, but him in the timeline wasn't a world ending tragedy. Mankind has already been set back technologically by 100 years, and it will probably be a lot more than that when you consider how long it will take to recoup the social capital that makes basic research possible. Not to mention the ecological damage…good lord the ecological damage….

"You know, that's actually a fun thing to think about," said Willow happily, "What do you think our lives would be like, if the nukes didn't drop? I'd like to think I'd have seen the east coast by now. Maybe even been to Canada."

"We could be colonists on the moon!" said Veronica.

"I could have a better bike!" exclaimed Niner "A floating bike. That breaks the sound barrier!"

I felt the pressure in my skull relieving, which meant the high was going to. But thinking of the apocalypse not happening made me all kinds of happy. I do well…in a shitty world, and given the opportunity I'd rather do shitty in a good world.

Finally, after many blocks we arrived at our destination. I took Niner to the front façade and asked him to read the sign.

"Ah, Six, you really want me to try and read it?"

"It'll be good for you."

"Ah, it says, The…King's S-chool of Imper….son…ation…ssn't it obvious I'm not the best at this kind of thing?"

"You're functionally illiterate aren't you?"

"Look, maybe I wasn't the best at school. But I get by."

"Fine," I liked having Niner around, I liked having his submachine gun around even more. But I was making it a long term goal of mine to get him to learn to read.

We entered into the lobby of the King's hideout. Like so many buildings in the post apocalypse it was clean and brightly lit, but quite shabby and run down looking. The wooden floor was scuffed and worn, the counter was old and peeling, and the walls were white washed and bare.

There was only one man in the room. He was a white guy with a black pompadour and what looked like jailbird outfit: black pants and a black and white shirt striped side to side with a black cloth jacket. It was a costume, from Presley's Jailhouse Rock, although I didn't even know if the Kings who wore them knew that.

"Excuse me, I'm here to see the King."

He sneered at me and said "What do we have here? Another petitioner for the King?" He was trying to do Elvis's accent. And while it was passable, it was clear it wasn't his native accent.

"Yes, I just said that. I'd like to see him if possible."

"Anything's possible, I suppose. How much is it worth to you to meet the big man?"

This asshole wants a bribe? I was tempted to neck lift him, but aside from the fact I don't know if I could have physically done it, it wouldn't do socially. "I'm new in town, and my friends and I are here to pay our respects."

He smiled an oily smile at me, "You know what? I like you. Half of the people around here, they forget who runs this place. In Freeside, the Kings rule. And the King rules the Kings. Head on through. The King's the bored-looking guy by the stage. Can't fuckin miss him."

"Thank you, Mr…"

"Pacer," he nodded his head but didn't extend his hand, "It's been a pleasure. Now don't forget my name, ya hear?"

"Got it, Pacer."

My companions mumbled something to the effect, and we went through the door beside this Pacer creep. Inside of a lounge area with an elevated stage. The room was lit and no one was on stage, which made me wonder why the King was in here at all. But beyond a few bodyguards leaning on the walls, was a man in a beige suit sitting at a small table all alone. There was a dog, a very obvious cyberdog by his side. And how I mean obvious is that the fake fur of his metal bits was worn away, leaving bare metal to the outside world. Worse, the top of his head clearly showed an open brainpan encased in blue biomed gel. Or at least it was still mostly blue, it had a greyish tint to it that made it look cloudy and….unhealthy.

I came up to the side of the man and took an audible breath so he'd hear me.

He looked up out of the corner of his eye and then turned around in his seat.

Look, Rexie, someone new's come to see us." He sighed, "Poor boy. He hasn't been feeling well lately. I'm the King. What can I do for you?

"My name's Theresa Miller. I'm a courier for the Mojave Express, but right now I'm acting as an agent of the Followers of the Apocalypse. May I sit down?"

"Of course."

I pulled up a chair and sat across from this man, the King. Like Pacer, he was trying to speak with Elvis' accent, although it was softer, and his voice much more buttery than Pacers.

His dog however, growled at me. The King bid him to be quiet, and the dog quieted down, but his nose was still pointing at me. The dog did not look happy.

"He doesn't like hats," said the King.

I took off my hat and sat it gently down on the table. At this, the dog seemed to calm down considerably. Tentatively I reached out my hand, open palm, in a sign of openness. The dog sniffed it, then licked it gently in one little lick.

"So, do you normally charge for admission?"

He smiled what I thought was a magical smile at me, "Charge? Ha ha. Pace must be at it again. What did he take you for?"

"Nothing. I told him I was paying respects and he let me through."

"Huh. Pace must be losing his touch. Either that or you're a smooth one. So what can I do for you?"

"Tell me about Rex here."

"I got Rex here from a salvager a few years ago. He was a little dinged up when I got him, but one of the Followers fixed him right up."

"Yeah, but Julie told me he's not doing so good. Care to explain?"

"Is this going somewhere?"

"Yes, but I want to be thorough."

"I can appreciate wanting to hear people out. It tends to solve more problems than it causes. Very well. He's been acting peculiar for some time now. I took him to the Followers and had him checked out, and they said his brain is bad or something. He goes through spells like this from time to time. The Followers said his brain is going bad or something. For now, but they said eventually he's going to get worse. I don't know what to do."

"Well, tomorrow I need to head into the mountains to look for a lost hunter. I'm going to be close to Jacobstown. Julie says there's a Doctor there who might be able help Rex."

"She said what? Why didn't she just say so when I was there?!...Actually, come to think of it, I was pretty angry when I went down there. I vaguely recall something about upending a few tables, maybe knocking out one of her doctors. Anyway, that's incredible news!...Only thing is, there's too much going on around here for me to make a trip like that, and I need all of my guys just to keep things settled here."

"That's why I'm here. Julie has asked me to take Rex to see the doctor. And it could help me in my search. I'll have him back in a few days tops."

"Now wait a minute there missy. I like Julie, I know Julie, but you? I don't who you from Adam. Why should I trust you with my dog."

"Oh come on your majesty!" I protested "I…" tried to remember the line "I took out a pack of Deathclaws living in the sewers a few years ago."

He looked at me suspiciously, then laughed, "Oh yeah, I remember that one! Ha ha ha!" Then he looked at me seriously, "James Garret is full of shit. His prevarications can fool a lot of people in Freeside, but not the King. You'll have to do better than that."

"OK fine, but the only reason I haven't killed Deathclaws in the sewers is because there aren't any! But, but but, hear me out! I did clear out the Deathclaws at Gypsum Trainyard back when NCR first came into the territory."

"I don't believe you."

"I also recruited almost all of the long term acts at the Tops. Garret can tell you how I sweet talked him into making Hadrian a free agent."

"Better."

"I, uh, saved the town of Silverwood from an entire Kenturia of Legion out in Arizona."

"I don't keep up with news outside the Mojave."

I sighed, "I got James Garret that sexbot."

He smiled at me, biting his lip as though he was suppressing laughter. "Really now?"

"Yup."

"I bet you that made him very happy."

"Yeah, his first words were 'My God, imagine the possibilities!'" We chuckled at this, but we were the only ones. I don't think the bodyguards heard and my companions seemed horrified.

"So ah." Added the King, "Did you do any," he took a breath, "quality control?"

I laughed, "What kind of recruiter would I be if I didn't sample the merchandise?"

"So, eh, how was it?" He slowly blinked his eyes and nodded his head, probably more than a little mortified he'd asked.

"Well, afterward I couldn't feel my legs, which you'd THINK was a good thing, but it's basically a vibrator with even less personality. I suggested to the Garrets they should install a fleshlight on the thing, to keep the act fresh and they called me perv. And told me I didn't get free drinks no more."

The King exploded in laughter, holding his head in his hand by the rim of the table.

After he calmed down he said "I like you. So why haven't you come to pay me a visit before?"

"I deliver parcels to Billy Blue about twice, sometimes three times a month. Never had a reason to talk to the higher ups before."

"So what does Julie want out of all this?"

"Just another act of kindness by the Followers."

He scowled at me, "Don't do that, don't treat me like I was born yesterday. We're getting along so well together now."

"Ok, she wants you to use your influence to reduce the violence against NCR citizens in Freeside.

He pucked his lips at this, and his body went straight upright. I had his attention at least. "So I'm supposed to just start giving in to the demands of random strangers that come in here, huh? I don't think so. Whose job is it to stop it? Yours? Mine? Who are we to tell people what to do? No man has that right. That's what it is to be a King, we're different than other gangs, and not just because we dress better. We're not just a group of thugs looking for our next fight. The Kings are about an idea, you see? Where every man is free to follow his own path, do his own thing. Where every man is a king in his own right."

"Your majesty, if someone doesn't bring order to this town, the NCR is going to have to step in. They're not light handed in these kind of situations."

"Is that a threat little lady?" He was eyeing me, but not like he thought it actually was a threat, but he definitely wanted me to know who was boss around here. And that was fair.

"Not at all. NCR in Freeside would be the end of the Kings, but it would also be bad for the Followers. Some NCR pricks would like to run us both out of town."

He seemed to consider this. He sniffed the air and parted back a loose clump of hair his black pompadour. "You make an interesting point. But you want something from me, you're gonna have to earn it. And it just so happens that I've got a few things I need taken care of. So what do you say?"

"That's why I'm offering to take Rex for treatment."

"Well that's not all I need. I'll start you off with something easy. Something you can do tonight."

My blood curdled at this. Not another side quest, not another goddamned side quest. I was tired for fuck's sake. I wanted to show my crew the Silver Rush, which was right down the street, and go the fuck to bed.

"Does it involve taking something to Old Mormon Fort? Otherwise I can't. I need to sleep."

"Now, now! Hear me out. It's not that late."

I popped up my HUD. It WAS only 9:30. So I said, "Fine."

"I'll start you off with something easy. Did you notice the bodyguards for hire near the gates when you entered Freeside?"

"Bodyguards?" asked Willow

"We took a tram in," I explained to the King. "Go on."

"It's good money if you can stay alive long enough. Freeside's not as safe as it used to be, so the money is well earned. Usually well earned, that is. Recently my men tell me that one of those bodyguards, fella named Orris, is making a little too much money. He's making a killing in repeat business. Once someone hires him they never want anyone else. I want you to find out why. Specifically, I want you to hire him. Play the part of an innocent tourist and follow his lead. If nothing happens, so be it. But I'm guessing things won't go so smoothly. Call it a hunch. So what do you say?

"Where's he at?" I asked, not amused.

"He usually sticks to the north gate."

"Well that's a fucking relief." This meant a lot less walking than if he was on the east gate.

"I want a cab."

"Say what now?" asked the King.

"You heard me. I want a cab waiting here. I'll walk to the north gate, I'll go to the South gate with him, but I want a cab waiting here to take us back to Old Mormon Fort."

"It's two miles from the North Gate to the South Gate."

"Two and a half. And I have to walk a mile and a half back to the North gate, then two and a half miles to the South gate, then back to Old Mormon Fort. That's six and a half miles."

"You're a Courier aren't you?"

"I've had a very busy day. And I'm not asking that you pay for the cab, only that it be waiting for me."

"Fine. Once you part ways, return here. I'll look forward to hearing your report. Oh, and see Pacer to cover the hiring cost. If he gives you any trouble, you come right back around and see me."

"So, uh, why can't your men to look into this?"

"I've tried, but he can smell a King a mile away. Probably knows all our faces by now. He's not a stupid man, I'll give him that. What I need is someone he won't recognize, which makes you perfect."

"If I took Rex with me, would he recognize him?"

"Probably better not to risk it."

"OK, crew?" I looked at them in the face, one after another, "You want to come with? Cause if you don't I don't blame you."

"I think I'll pass," said Veronica. "Besides, you wanted me to see the Silver Rush?"

"Yeah. I want you to see how easy it is to get energy weapons out here. And…tell them I sent you. They don't really do repairs that well, so if you see any weapons that look badly repaired or in poor condition, have them put on my tab. Tell them to deliver it to the usual place. They'll know what to do."

"You have a tab at an energy weapons store?"

"Yes, Veronica, I do. I have plenty of contacts at Western Caravan and they're always wanting refurbished weapons."

"You refurbish them yourself?"

"Yeah, sorta. Yes and no. I'm more of a middle man."

"Well, you're an interesting courier, lady," said the King.

I smiled at him "I'm an adventurer. Always looking for a score. And if you know how to repair weapons, it's a helluva safer than going down into old bunkers I'll tell you that."

I'll fast forward past the boring parts: Pacer gave us no trouble, we got a sack full of caps. We walked to the North Gate while I explained to Willow that the Kings do a lot of bodyguard work, and that because they don't muscle out the competition, they expect a fair playing field. We formulated a plan: me and Niner we looked tough enough not to be concerned about jackasses with glass shards trying to stab us, but Willow, sweet, young, very female Willow was the perfect client of a big strong bodyguard. So we gave the caps to Willow and kinda slinked into the background. At night this wasn't hard to do. Most of the Lights along Las Vegas Boulevard were casino lights and the North Gate was well past all that so it was plenty dark beyond the gate light.

She hired him, he almost ran he was going so fast. The Orris guy certainly looked tough. He was big, tall and broad shoulders with Metal armor with spike sticking out the sides to make him look even wider. Niner and I kept behind them well out of earshot. Luckily Orris was going so fast he never bothered to turn around. This was really suspicious because a good bodyguard in Freeside needs to keep an eye in the back of his head.

The South Gate, which leads into the Strip, is just south of Charleston Avenue, about a third of a mile north of the Lucky 38. Right before then, Orris stopped. I stopped, and had to stop Niner. It seemed he was mostly following me. Made me thankful I had the implant: made me mindful about how dark the night can be. Although, that brought up a lot of unpleasant memories from long ago.

Orris turned and damn near sprinted to the left down a side street. We followed. There was a turn then another, and Orris sprinted up ahead and I heard three gunshots. Loud ones, maybe 45'70, maybe 12mm intermediate. Then Orris ran back towards Willow. They were talking about something, Willow started shouting, but I couldn't hear clearly. I decided it was time to make my entrance. I detached my rifle, and Niner unholstered his piece as well.

"Don't give me that! There were only three shots, there are four bodies, there's no blood, and frankly, if those thugs were dead, we'd be smelling their doo-doo."

"There a problem?" I announced myself to Orris.

"The young lady here is in shock, miss. We were almost ambushed by a group of miscreats, but I managed to put them down."

I continued to walk towards him and the corner started to yield under my walk. I could make out some bodies on the street.

"Mind if I shoot them to make sure?" I asked.

"I appreciate your help, madam, but I assure you, they're quite dead." He showed me his piece: an incredibly powerful revolver that was clearly holding 45'70 rounds. The Gun Runners call it a Hunting Revolver, and it's expensive. In my experience, it's also got uncontrollable recoil and it damn likely to break your hand.

"Ain't no kill like overkill," I said, and began to raise my gun.

Orris said nothing, so I use VATS to aim close to the corpse I saw street, but made sure to miss, hitting the pavement just to the man's side and behind his chest. Sure enough the guy screamed in terror and bolted from prone.

Orris screamed, "You idiot! What part of "play dead" do you not understand?"

I shouted, "You boys go on home. I want a word with Orris here. Alone. You stay, you share his fate. " I looked at Orris, "Now, hands up."

Orris tentatively raised his hands, and let the gun drop. I saw other bodies get up and take off. I waited until the footfalls become faint before I addressed the 'bodyguard.'

"Now, Orris is it? You're in trouble. You're faking attacks to drum up repeat business. How do you think the King is going to handle that? What do you think is gonna happen?"

"I don't see how this concerns the King."

"Don't play dumb with me, Orris. You're screwing Kings out of their daily bread. The King is probably going to beat you to death….But he ain't gonna. We both know that."

"What do you want?" he looked scared.

"I could kill you right here. More trouble on my part, but I get your armor and gun. Now I'm going to offer you choice: you give me that armor and your gun, and I let you keep the money and give you enough time to get out of Freeside."

"Fuck you, I wasn't breaking no, law, I was just giving people a good show!"

"Fine, give me your gun and promise me you won't do bodyguard work anymore, and I promise the King will protect you from his men."

He didn't look happy, but he looked less angry. "Can you really promise that?"

"The King's business is looking out for his boys. He'll do it. If I'm wrong, I'll find you, make sure you get out of Freeside safely."

Orri's nostril's fared, but he seemed beaten. "This has been a really shitty night. But fine, it could be worse."

I watched him like a hawk though. Good poker players never take a man's facial tics at face value.

"Willow, take his gun."

She scooped it off the ground.

"Willow, com e with us. Orris, you stay there till we're gone. You move, I get your armor, one way or another."

"I hope you choke on the gun."

"I hope not." I tipped my gun at Willow to get her moving. I heard her and Niner moving so I started rearguarding.

Luckily for us, it was one block down and another to the right and we were back on Las Vegas Boulevard, back on all those bright neon lights of lesser casinos and bars. Willow wanted to comment, and I told her we weren't out of it yet. I felt very tense all the way back to the Kings School of Impersonation, but we made it without incident.

Coming into the lounge, the King was sitting where he had been, but there were TWO cybergdogs to his right. I wondered if I was seeing double, bad ganja can do that sometimes, but no, the high was long gone. And before I approach the King, one of the dogs came up wimpering and jumping up and down on it's metal back legs.

"Roxie?!" I bent on my knees to get close to the dog.

The dog have a happy bark, and gave a long lick to my face.

"What are you doing here girl? Also, I'm sorry I turned you into a cyberdog, but it did get you out of suspended animation." I started to pet Roxie. Petting a cyberdog is always distasteful. They can't feel the dome their brains are in, and the texture is all wrong, to say nothing of the shape. So basically, you have to rub the ears and snout because the skull is gone.

But Roxie was receptive to it. She leaned in, pitting the side of her body firmly, weightily against my legs. For dogs that's a sign of affection and protection.

The King got up and walked calmly walked our way. "So you know Roxie?"

"Oh yeah!" I said "You're a good girl, aren't you? Yeah, your majesty. She ran off."

"Where'd you get her?"

"Ah, I can't talk about it. NCR would throw me in the klink for years, but it's kinda far from here."

"She showed up at my doorstep not two months ago. Very much in heat I might add. She's been inseparable from Rex. Now Rex has never tried to hump my leg, so I didn't even think he had it in him, but they get burning love on all the time. It's kinda amusing, they're shameless like that."

"Yeah, dogs are pervs." I said, smiling real big. It's true, dogs are such pervs. They're great.

"Have a seat, all of you. Roxie, go see Rex."

We gathered around a larger table.

"I assume you've dealt with Orris."

"Not quite-" I began.

"Not quite?"

"Orris is a fraud. He fakes attacks on his clients and then plays hero."

"Ok then-"

"Not so fast. I convinced him not to do any more guard work in exchange for the Kings leaving him alone."

"Convinced him, huh? All right, as long as he doesn't cheat my boys out of their due, I'll make sure no one crosses him. Pace won't like it, but he'll fall in line. Always does. I could use more men with your powers of persuasion. You've shown me you can get the job done, so maybe you can help me with something more important."

"Not tonight."

"No, of course not, but it does involve going to Old Mormon Fort. A lot of folks round these parts who've been here a while resent the sheer number of people that have come into the area since the Strip was built. In turn the newcomers, most of whom come from the NCR, have gotten ornery from being resented. Sometimes things get violent. This is one of those occasions. Recently, a few friends of mine were attacked, and I want you to find out who did it. Word's come that they just woke up over at the Fort. You want me to stop violence against the squatters, I'll need your help here."

"I'll see what I can do tomorrow."

"There's no rush, my friends got beat so bad they'll be recuperating for quite some time, so head over there when you can. In the meantime, you have another job to do. "

"Rex?"

"That's right. I can't thank you enough. Now, there's a few things you should know about ol' Rex here if you're going to be traveling together. First, he hates rats. Can't stand the things. Giant rats, molerats, doesn't matter. He catches a whiff of one and he's off like a shot after them. He's normally pretty obedient, but you might have to chase him some if he goes after one of the little varmints. Second, he doesn't like hats, or the people wearing them. Don't ask. I have no idea why. Maybe because it rhymes with 'rats. Come here Rex. You promise to get Rexie here to that doctor, and I'll lend him to you. What do you say?

"I'll be on it tomorrow."

Rex started growling at me, and I looked at him with displeasure. Then Roxie came up and sat beside me and growled low with her head hung down. Right at Rex. And Rex yipped a bit and stopped.

"Huh, good boy, Rex. That should be it, though. Other than the occasional bad spot when his brain starts hurting him, that is, but I'm hoping you'll see to that. I wish you both luck. Take care of my Rex now, y'hear?"

"Now all I have to do is wait for Veronica."

"Oh, that young thing in the potato sack? She stopped by well before you came, said she'd sen the Silver Rush and was going to bed early. Didn't sound very happy."

"I figured she wouldn't. Now is that cab ready?"

The King snapped his fingers and one of the bodyguards came forward, "Johnny, tell the cab to stop circling."

"Yeah sure thing King." And he ran off.

"Get to it now. Don't be a stranger now, Ms….Miller was it?"

"Yes, Theresa Miller."

It was nice to take a cab. It was old, but then again no one could afford a new car from NCR. It was spacious enough I could sit comfortably in the back with Willow on one side and Rex on the other. I stroked the back of his skull, where there was still real fur and flesh and tried not to get upset about how disfiguring cyberdog enhancement was. It was the whole society before the war: totally sociopathically unempathetic while being as wholesome looking as possible. I'm sure if things had continued the way they had been, they would have made cybermen, just like the dogs, with needless amputation and horrific looking metal limbs and their brains incased in inhuman clear blue brainjars. I shuddered. Because in some ways, the end of that world was a mercy. But I still believe that that world didn't have to end like that. There would have been a civil war, a revolution, show trials and mass deportations, but it could have gone a lot better.

I wanted to smoke more. I hate being melancholy, even though it is my temperament. Being old doesn't help matters. So we got to the Fort, I was shown to my room, and stripped down to everything but the Vault 11 Vaultsuit I always wear because it's climate controlled, and used an implant, my first actually, to put me to sleep automatically. Last thing I thought about was having to talk to Veronica, because as a Brotherhood scribe, dew things would be as much as a slap in the face as a plethora of cheap energy weapons. Maybe I should have been there. But then again, I would hardly have been a comforting agent. And then, like a light switching off, sleep took me.