The Good, the Bad, and the Insane

Chapter One: Life Could Be A Dream

Never in her life had Six seen so much clean water before. The Potomac, and the ocean on the east coast was dirty and as uninviting as water gets, but this...this was beautiful. Blue as far the eye could see with birds squawking over head and little fish darting around happy as can be. The air she breathed in was just as clear as Zion Canyon's. Wherever Six had ended up was a place untouched by the nuclear war that had scorched so much of the world, but that didn't mean it was friendly. The White Legs had taught her that one.

She turned to the sunken ship just off the docks she was standing on, and frowned. There was either quite the drop off beside the place she was standing on, or something wasn't quite right. There was no way a ship that size could be sunken so far down near shore.

Six shook her head and turned away from the water. Focus, that's what she needed to do. Being stuck in an unknown place was not time to daydream. Time to take stock. What did she see and hear? Ocean, birds, a sunken ship, a poorly hidden door in the rock wall, a path leading up, and nothing immediately hostile.

Aside from her pip-boy, what else did she have on her? She turned out all of her pockets and checked the condition of each object as she laid them out on the wood in front of her. The lighter she inherited from Benny, Chance's knife, three stimpaks, one anti-venom, and a small handful of energy cells that were next to useless to her by themselves as most of her weapons were back in Big Mountain.

What did she have by way of protection? The duster gifted her by Ulysses she knew for a fact didn't hold up well in direct combat. The outfit Joshua had given her to replace the armor she had ruined during her time assisting him and the tribes was less likely to tear. She wished she had grabbed her Kevlar vest on her way out the door instead of the coat, but hindsight's 20/20.

So long as she didn't get into any prolonged gunfight she figured she ought to be alright. At least she had stimpaks in case things went to shit. Six pocketed her stuff, making sure the most useful would be in easy to reach places.

Her hands remained shoved into the front pockets of her jeans as she strode up the path away from the docks. Six put conscious effort into making herself seem as relaxed and unassuming as possible on the off chances anyone was watching. The stairs led up to grass so neat and green Six had to stop to confirm the absence of paint. It was like she had been pulled into a pre-war storybook where everything was all smiles and idyllic. The stone buildings were strong and intact, lacking the general decay she had always seen since exiting Vault 101 ages ago.

Still no sign of life. No intelligent life, anyway. The birds were good about reminding her they were there with their constant noises, and little bugs she identified as butterflies from the books she had read fluttered about the healthy foliage. One flew so close to her face she could the pattern of its wings before it landed on a blue flower in front of what could only be a grave stone near one of the buildings. Six knelt by it to examine the inscription.

Ti'ana

Strange name, but who was she to judge? Six couldn't even remember her own name anymore, her past before she turned nineteen was a spotty thing at best. One big white blur with little snippets of things in between. Severe head trauma and blood loss will do that to person.

If anyone was going to come out to greet her than they would have done it by now. She stood and made her way back to the docks so she could examine that door in the rock with some confidence no one would come up and bash the back of skull in while she was distracted. Six took another moment to admire the water before turning back to her mission. As she raised a hand to open the door it occurred to her that if anyone still did live here they wouldn't want some random stranger poking around their things...and then she remembered Andale. The lesson she had learned there was: Always check a person's basement and/or shed before trusting them completely. Besides, if she was quick and careful the residents might never know.

The door opened to what Six would call a moderate sized room with a circular table in the center that instantly reminded her of the Sink Center Intelligence Unit. The floor had repeating patterns on the dark marble that Six could only describe as ostentatious. Who would need anything like that on a floor if it'd just get dirty when people walked on it? Her mind was already conjuring up an image of the owner as someone like a member of the White Glove Society or the people who had lived at Tenpenny's place, and wasn't that just a skin crawling thought?

As she lent over to examine every inch of the machine to check for buttons and switches Six imagined Tenpenny wearing a White Gloves' mask. There was little doubt in her mind that would be appearing in her nightmares the next time she closed her eyes. That whole sleep thing was sounding less and less like a good idea as the years rolled by.

Six found a button and pushed it in with no hesitation. The machine turned on, but nothing happened. Her shoulders dropped in disappointment. Whatever happened to computers laying around that she could hack with her amazing technical skills? The contraptions of the Big MT were more straight forward and less obtuse than whatever this thing was. She gave it a swift kick and went to head back outside in defeat and disappointment. All of that for nothing. What if she had been caught?

All of that flew out the nearest metaphorical window when she spotted the panel on the wall by the door. Unfortunately, when she went in for a closer inspection her sudden enthusiasm died a painful death just as fast. Two notes were taped to the wall. One detailed various settings on the device behind her, and the other was a torn letter addressed to someone named Catherine.

"Marker switches? What is this Bighorner crap?"

Chapter One End

Author's Notes:

It didn't make much sense to me to have the letter to Catherine just laying around outside where a breeze could blow it away, so I moved it into the Forechamber. I apologize if this minor change upsets you.

Thanks for your time,

Home On the Wastes

Disclaimer: I OWN NOTHING