Chapter 16
We Shall Be Together In Paradise
"An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind."
-Mahatma Gandhi
It was as she had feared.
The medicine woman in town treated her wound. It was not life-threatening after treatment, but it would leave her sore for weeks. The bullet broke two ribs, and collapsed her "lung".
It was as she had feared.
Her metallic beast was the third and final living creature in the room while she was being treated. She didn't look to be twenty-five yet, and she was expecting a child.
As I carried her, she expressed concern for the unborn's well-being. She nearly suffocated during the initial injury. An unborn is very sensitive to the slightest change. It is why deathclaw mothers protect their young. A mother will not regard her child as being truley "born" until it can fend for itself to some extent. They protect their eggs, and their offspring. Deathclaw unborns are surprisingly very sensitive when they open their eyes for the first time. I've seen young killed by simple creatures like mole rats if the mother is dead or not present.
Thankfully, it was not as she had feared. The child was not harmed by the injury. It was too high, and she was not without air long enough.
I was not welcome in the same room as the girl until the first day was up. I am a creature that no sane human trusts.
This woman, my savior, however... she was different.
I believe the word is "psychotic". When most people see me, they either run or shoot at me. Typically, they shoot at me, as they know they cannot outrun me.
My savior, though... she sobbed before me, and then spoke with me, and finally partnered with me to rid this land of the tyrant that took my mind.
My father would love to meet her. He, however, is many kilometers away, either studying humanity further in his old age, or perhaps he has died. I do not know.
He left me with the capability of rational thought, human speech, and a fascination with human behavior. It is my wish to see humans and deathclaws work side by side.
No, not my lesser-minded brethren. The intelligent deathclaws that are either survivors of the massacre (which number either at one or two), or my brothers and sisters, which may or may not live in other parts of the wasteland today.
My father had the same wish, if what I learned of him is correct (a man he travelled with spoke highly of him to me before I was captured). My father was a scholar of humanity, often hiding his true form with a cloak, excusing such actions as a means of "hiding a horrific mutation".
He considered himself a human in a beast's body. We are at odds here. I am proud to be a deathclaw. I am strong, I am fast, I am agile, and I am smart enough to think rational thoughts (very few animals can). Still, I do not hide who I am. I embrace it. If I was supposed to be a human, I would be one right now. I believe we are who we are meant to be based on present conditions. I am a deathclaw, therefore that is what I am meant to be.
Alas, I digress. My curiosity for humankind was suppressed when I was forbidden from entering the room with the human that saved me. I longed to see how humanity licked its wounds.
Of the few humans that met me before my enslavement, those that did not attack me tended to treat me as an animal, and only after observing my human-like behaviors did they treat me as an equal. I was called a "good boy" on numerous occasions. These names did not bother me much. My instinct told me to appreciate the names. They meant I was praiseworthy, and these lucky, intelligent beings were above me. This woman and my father's old friend were the only two that spoke to me as an equal.
I was finally able to see her when she came outside. I approached cautiously and she smiled at me wearily.
"Thank you for taking me here, Argutus. I'm sorry they didn't let you in to see me."
I shook my head, which was one way humans say "think nothing of it".
She sighed, and smiled gently at the land beyond this town. Her dog eyed me distrustfully.
"I never stick around in towns I liberate. It's nice to see that the Legion didn't really get a chance to make much progress here anyway."
We were both silent for several seconds. I felt the dog's eyes on me still, and on the rare occasion that I glanced at him, I could see his morose stare. It was as if he tired of my presence. He said nothing to me, though. All I could gather is he did not want to see me. I wondered if he thought I was going to do something regrettable.
"Anyway..."
I was jolted out of my thoughts when she spoke up again. She looked back at the building she'd been housed in.
"I'm supposed to stay overnight to make sure I'm alright, and then I'm moving on. I have a question for you, Argutus..."
"What is it?" I asked. She frowned at me.
"My horse was killed. Fortitude was killed. Even so, I'm intent on completing my mission."
"Which is?"
"To kill the man that leads the Legion."
I smiled. It sounded like a noble idea.
"Would you want to accompany me as far as New Vegas? It's my final stop before Caesar's camp."
I didn't even need to think about it. My father travelled with a wandering human such as this woman, and now I was going to do the same. If she didn't ask, I would've asked. She was my savior.
She was my master.
"I owe you my life. Had you not come along, I'd continue to be a slave to their will... so of course I will travel with you."
I saw the dog visibly slump lower. I didn't know what his problem was, but I wasn't going to antagonize him. I'm sure he had his reasons for the passive-aggressive movements, actions, and looks.
The next morning, when she was given leave, we were off. She was excused of any possible medical bills, likely because she saved the city from the corrosive influence of what the humans call "Caesar's Legion".
Initially, our trip was silent. There were few words between any of us, and progress was slow without running.
We did not cover fifteen miles on the first day. We kept having to stop to rest the girl. Her dog and I could keep moving longer than her. Humans do not need to hunt regularly, and do not experience starvation enough to understand true exhaustion. Perhaps these are just thoughts of mine regarding a "culture" not my own.
After that first day, I offered to carry her, as well as her equipment. She insisted on carrying the equipment, but I talked her into allowing me to carry her. It would cut the trip down significantly, and in the wastes we were currently in, I did not want to be idle. Besides that, it was better that she held the equipment so my paws were free to defend us from any potential hostiles.
Between settlements, the wasteland tends to be nearly empty. The population of creatures other than radroaches is too small to be encountered often in the open. You might find one or two of any living creature, perhaps a herd of eight or more, but you'll never find exceptionally large numbers continuously in one area, unless it's some kind of settlement.
We thankfully continued in the manner which we travelled on the second day. I carried her. I continued carrying her throughout the days, as they melted into a week, and that week melted into two, then three, and then...
We were in the vicinity of the man she wanted to kill. We'd opted to stop that night to discuss her plan.
We did not speak too much during the walk. Every so often, when we did speak, she'd call me "Cord" by mistake, and then catch herself, and I'd see the dull ache of a broken heart in her eyes; it was a wound that looked to be well healed, but still a wound.
It was through her dog that I learned who Cord was. As the weeks passed, the metal dog opened up to me. No, we did not become friends, and we did not become rivals. He simply grew a little more comfortable with my presence. I no longer bothered him so.
He told me Cord was "a member of their family now five months dead", and that I reminded them of him. I asked him how I reminded him of this late member of their family, and he told me I had his shape.
I did not say these things while our travelling companion was awake. These conversations were after dark.
I minded my tongue around the dog. He warned me early on that he had an absolutely horrendous temper, and that I should choose my words regarding their late friend very carefully. I had no intention of slander. After hearing a little of what this "Cord" did, I was ashamed that I could not meet him. Imagine, another deathclaw like me... one that can appreciate humanity, one that can travel with humans... the possibilities would have been endless.
Once we finally closed the distance between us and the camp (it now being no more than a half hour's travel away), I discussed the plan with the woman.
"What do you know of this man?" I asked her. She began pulling papers she'd likely gathered during her travels from her pack.
"I have great intel on him, but I don't know how much of it is accurate."
"Explain."
"His name is Holden Lee, also known as "Judge" Lee. He was a package courier for years, having delivered various items for clients from California to the Divide. In January of 2281, he was captured and shot in the head just outside a small settlement called 'Goodsprings'. The medical report suggests critical damage to the frontal lobe of his brain, as well as the loss of function in his right eye, where the bullet entered."
I pawed at the papers she now spread on the ground and she lightly slapped my arm.
"Stop that, you'll muss them. The information I've given you so far is good. It matches up with news on the radio at the time as well as a report filed during my time with the Brotherhood of Steel. After that, however, this story gets iffy."
"Elaborate."
"Lee allegedly hunted down the man that shot him, met the hermit Robert Edwin House inside the casino the Lucky 38, singlehandedly activated a nuclear warhead and fired it at a major NCR stronghold in California (original reports suggested an impact in the Mojave), killed House under the orders of Caesar, performed brain surgery on the so called "Son of Mars", and he supposedly killed a hundred NCR Rangers in the first twenty minutes of Hoover Dam."
I stared, and she continued.
"It's acceptable that he hunted down the man that shot him, and it's known that someone entered the Lucky 38 and later killed House, but there is no evidence to suggest that Lee was in the Divide at the time the nuclear warhead was fired, though he certainly had cause to attack the NCR, having cozied up to the Legion. Whether or not he performed brain surgery is not known, and the number of NCR Rangers he killed is highly exaggerated, the real number likely being four or five. Most accounts suggest his running from battle, just to get into the heart of the NCR stationed at Hoover Dam and cause problems."
"What does that mean of him now?"
She sighed, spread the papers, and eventually tossed them.
"I don't know. He's not rusty, if that's what you're worried about. He supposedly hunts deathclaws for sport, cleans them, and either stuffs them, or makes them into furniture."
"Does that mean we have a way in?"
She shook her head.
"If I send you as a distraction, he'll just kill you from a distance. He uses firearms, not close quarters, and all this is, of course, assuming any of this crap is actually right."
"Then what can we do?"
"Lee supposedly has a soft spot for cyberdogs. If I send Dogmeat to the gate, I can scout, search for him, and maybe even rip his throat out if he is asleep. Then, I can sneak Dogmeat back here, and we'll escape before the guard can find us."
"What if they do find him?"
She looked down at him with a smile.
"It's like I said. He's got a soft spot for cyberdogs. If Dogmeat is caught, odds are he won't be shot on sight."
I could tell he trusted her absolutely. He seemed to smile up at her and he licked her chin. I was silent, pondering what my role might be if this goes wrong.
I would certainly carry her to the base as quickly as I could. That went without saying. After that, though... there were likely many guards in the base. I'd fight with her, and do everything I could to get inside, and then we could free him.
This is all, of course, if her plan goes south. When I looked down at her again, she was holding Dogmeat's head in her hands and staring into his eyes.
"If anything happens, you be very careful."
"I expect you to watch her with your life while I am away," said he. These words were uttered to me, not her.
"I will protect her with my life," I whispered under my breath. The girl did not hear me, but he nodded his approval.
When I looked back at her, she was putting some large goggles on her face.
"Watch out for any hostiles here, Argutus."
I nodded, and the woman was motionless. Dogmeat's false eye flashed, and he looked back at me. He almost seemed to smile, and then he turned and darted towards the base.
Revolution! Revolution!
I would not dare to try and take advantage of Dogmeat by overusing this power. It is his body. He deserves control of it as often as possible. As a matter of fact, destroying these goggles was a plan of mine once all of this was over with, if, of course, I was still alive.
I shivered while running. Suppose I did not destroy these goggles, and they were stolen from me? Someone could hypothetically take them and use Dogmeat against me. That is, hurt me, or even kill me with his teeth- those which are mine at this moment. Philosophy.
I can't imagine what he'd do if he came to after such an action.
I wouldn't be so irresponsible that I would lose these goggles. Additionally, they only have the three mile range.
When I got to the camp, it was seemingly empty. There was nobody guarding the front gate (it was ajar), and nobody was stationed in the watchtowers. I stalked forward silently, looking all around and taking advantage of Dogmeat's cybernetic eye as I wandered.
I expected an ambush, and it gave me pause just outside the gate. Through Dogmeat's eye, I picked up no sign of life hiding in ambush beyond the gate. Sure enough, once I passed through it, I was fine.
The buildings were empty, the tents were cleared, and the camp was completely silent. There weren't even mongrels to worry about, though there were a few crosses with dead Legionaries upon them. Above each of their heads was a sign that read "Dissenter be damned", a popular phrase used on doomed traitors in the wastes.
I let out a low whine. Crucifixion is a torture I would not wish upon Caesar, Autumn, or Eden.
As I padded through the camp, I heard nothing. The cybernetic eye picked up a heat signature at the center of the camp. It was the shape of a man, and he was sitting in a chair just beyond the tent I was now behind. I slowly walked around the camp to meet my target, and...
When I put one of my front paws down, it sunk into the dirt a little. I looked down, and there was an explosion. I let out a loud yelp and was sent careening to the side, sparks now surging from my metallic body. The cybernetic eye failed, and the last thing I saw was the husk of an EMP mine.
The machines that keep a cyberdog mobile are vulnerable to an electromagnetic pulse. The life-support, however, is different. It is protected from such devices. Dogmeat fainted and I was forced out of his mind, and I knew that his body was rebooting.
Suddenly I was aware of my own screams, and I felt something yank my head forward. The goggles were torn from my face by Argutus, and thrown a few feet away, sparking all the while. I fell forward on my hands and I looked up at Argutus. He knelt by my side and put a paw on my back.
"Are you alright?" he asked. I nodded, still gasping for breath.
"We have to go. We have to go now! Dogmeat's in there with Lee. I know he's there."
"How many men?"
I'd started walking by now.
"Just him!"
Argutus came up behind me and lifted me off my feet. He started running for the base. I drew my handgun, took the safety off, and I was set down just inside the gate.
The trip was nothing, there was still no sign of an ambush, and I did not see Judge searching for me. I did keep an eye on the ground for any additional mines. EMPs might not cause severe damage to someone that was not cybernetic, but I couldn't be too careful.
I looked up at Argutus.
"Go watch the front gate and let me know if you see any Legionaries coming."
He nodded.
"By your orders."
I kept my handgun up and my eyes all over the place as I retraced Dogmeat's steps. As I slowly turned the corner again, I let out a yelp. There was a gunshot, and my pistol was on the ground an insulting distance away from me. I whirled back around the tent to avoid any further bullets, and I pulled the Beretta Tomcat from my ankle holster.
I heard a sigh, and then I heard eleven more bullets being fired, this time at a wall across from me. There were a few seconds of silence, and then I saw a pistol fly across the open space and hit the wall. At this point, I had to signal to Argutus that I was alright, and then I poked my head out from behind cover and saw my target sit in a chair before a fire with another sigh. He held a cigar to his lips again, and gently stroked Dogmeat's... dome. My dog was still unconscious, but he moved under the contact.
I slowly broke from cover and approached Lee, never lowering my gun. He didn't acknowledge my presence, choosing instead to stare at the fire he had going.
He was not dressed in Centurion armor. Rather, he was wearing a soiled white blazer and cargo pants. His hair was brown (grey began to touch it, likely from stress by a cruel wasteland. I wasn't twenty five and I already saw a few grey hairs), and one of his eyes was brown while the other was blue. The brown eye was fake, and not fitted correctly to his socket, and it was always in a squint. I saw the scars from his near death experience, including what remained of the hole in his head as well as burns along the right side of his face.
The intel was correct on another point: he was good with guns.
He took the cigar from his mouth again and looked down at my dog.
"I thought I'd disarmed all of those mines. You always forget the ones closest to the ones you love."
I glared at him.
"Do you know who I am?"
He took a drag on his cigar.
"You're empty and full at the same time. I envy your indecisiveness."
"Where are your men?"
He leaned back in his chair, and still did not look at me.
"A Legionary will follow any order. Lanius once killed a hundred Legionaries at attention because his coffee was black. If a higher up desires your death, you accept. To answer your question, I sent them unarmed into a nearby deathclaw sanctuary, and I ordered them to remain there without retreat."
"And they listened?"
He tossed his cigar into the fire.
"I felt I owed you a favor. I did send the squad that killed your friend. I assume you're here for retribution."
My blood ran cold, but before I could react, he continued.
"I did try to send them with handguns and one submachine gun because you amuse me. If I'd gotten what I wanted, your deathclaw might have been mildly injured, but he'd have survived the attack. No, instead Caesar called for high power weapons through a foreign arms dealer. He had them sent to my squad around me."
I continued to stare.
"He doesn't trust me. He shouldn't. Still, he knows he can't kill me. I saved his life, and he owes me that."
Finally, Lee looked up at me.
"Listen, can you do me a favor? Can you shoot me in the head please? Try to destroy my brain stem. Shoot as many times as it takes. Please. Just kill me."
"You are Holden Lee," I finally said. "It is your fault that the Legion is this powerful today."
"No, no... you don't see. It's not my fault. I suffer because of Benny. It's Benny. He shot me. He made the Legion this powerful today."
I was silent again. Dogmeat slowly came to and leapt to my side, growling lowly at the man. Lee continued.
"He's dead, but he did it. He did it through me by shooting me and leaving me and then leading me to find him for the redemption of me. Don't you understand?"
I eyed the scar on his head again.
"Your frontal lobe is not just damaged... it's totally destroyed."
"The sly suited gentleman watches the Enclave plan. You shouldn't have done that... Oh, my God, Rex! I miss you!"
"...You're not a Legionary enthusiast, are you? You're... you're nearly brain dead."
"Mommy? Oh, no... don't do it."
He violently hit himself in the forehead with his own fist and I jumped.
"Please, you have to shoot me. Do it!"
"I..."
"A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush, but I have no bird and I have no bush. My God, I hope Rex is doing okay... hello, boy..."
This man wasn't a cold, calculating individual that the reports made him out to be. He was absolutely nuts. The real Holden Lee likely died in 2281 when he was initially shot. All that is left... is an ill shell. He was completely unpredictable. He may start off docile, but that can change at any time.
"Please, you have to shoot. You have to stop this. Kill me. Kill me. The Legion... kill us. We. It. Us. He. She. We are all brothers and sisters. You, I... me, we. Me, she. She, I."
I stared at him for several seconds.
"You really wish to die. I can see that. It would be a relief if I were to kill you right here, and right now."
He stared back at me.
"The end always justifies the means, Serial Number 4492958. The end always justifies the means."
I put my Beretta Tomcat back in my ankle holster, and I recovered my pistol (remarkably undamaged save for a mild dent).
"I'll not be granting you your own wish. In the end, you won't have any influence anyway."
"No. You can't just leave. You have to kill me. That's what you're here for. You have to do it."
"And yet I'm walking away."
I turned the corner in spite of the man's shouts. He tried to appeal to my good nature, reminding me that he killed all of his men for just such an encounter. That didn't change the speed of my walk. I waved Argutus to my side as I left the camp, and he turned his head and looked back at the tents.
"What did you do? Nothing?"
There was a deafening gunshot, and Dogmeat's ears perked up while Argutus eyed the camp.
"Nothing is always something," I said. I glanced at my Pip Boy and got onto Argutus' back.
Next stop: New Vegas.
End of Chapter
4,183 words.
Yeah, pretty underwhelming. That was the Courier that Milly just met, and he's, well... cuckoo for Coco Puffs.
Milly no longer has any targets between her and New Vegas. She will be heading for rebel controlled Freeside next. We'll be seeing a few characters from New Vegas on her next chapter.
First, Nikolai. He has one more target to go. It should be a chapter of a certain length as well. I have no idea how long this one will be.
Oh, and right now, we're about six chapters from conclusion (including next chapter, without the Trivia chapter).