Blue moon,
You knew just what I was there for
You heard me singing a prayer for,
Someone I really could care for
And then there suddenly appeared before me,
The only one my arms will ever hold
I heard somebody whisper please adore me,
And when I looked to the moon it turned to gold
The perfect pitch of Frank Sinatra pulled Anatolius out of his deep, heavy sleep. Rays of early morning sunshine filtered in through the balcony and into the suite, where it slowly reached the plush round bed and basked him and the two women sleeping on either side in golden warmth.
He sat up and languidly rubbed his temples, his head throbbing, trying to piece together the events of last night like the drug-fueled puzzle that it was. He'd gotten back at Inculta all right. Shortly after leaving the Tops, the Frumentarri had gone on a gambling bender in nearly every casino, and left a trail of caps, alcohol, and women for him to follow. He remembered at one point he had a crowd following him around, gathered around the blackjack table and cheering him on as he played hand after solid hand, or whipping up into a frenzy as the roulette table spun.
He beat profligate after profligate with simple logic, and what could only be described as a little bit of pure luck. It didn't take long before Vulpes simply gave up the charade. Another small victory over his most hated rival.
And so that wild night led him here- to an ostentatious penthouse, flanked by two naked women, empty med-x syringes, and cigarette butts. Almost to his surprise Anatolius didn't regret any of it. In the Legion, there were no drugs or alcohol, or even medical substances; being Frumentarii was the one exception to the rule, and he made sure he capitalized on it from time to time.
Standing up and stretching, he began getting dressed when he noticed a piece of paper that had been slid underneath the door. He slipped into a bathrobe hanging from a peg on the bathroom door and plucked it off the floor:
Meet at your safehouse, 10 am.
Lighting a cigarette, Anatolius stepped out through the double doors and onto the balcony. Judging by the sun it was already almost late morning. Isaac would be waiting for him.
But before he left he needed to do something about his hangover. Inside he found a jar of buffout nearly rolled under the bed- he tapped out the white powder clinging in chunks to the bottom and formed it into a small line, rolled up a pre-war hundred dollar bill, and snorted the entire thing. His head immediately cleared, a massive swell of energy flooded his system as the man got back up, donned his hat, and walked out of the Ultra-Luxe.
.
.
.
They met outside his safehouse, captured in the hazy light of the yellow morning air. Off in the distance a pack of wild brahmin skulked past, grazing, their tails and ears twitching at the clouds of insects. Beyond them, thin tendrils of woodsmoke hung vertical as grim backdrops in the windless sky.
"She got another one of our agents last night," Isaac said, wearing one of his suits and the same fedora.
"He cornered her at the Mojave Outpost but didn't stand a chance, and now we think she may be on to us. His main tracking chip was found miles away from his body inside the saddlebags of a brahmin halfway to Vegas. The other was fried by some sort of electromagnetic discharge."
Anatolius watched him from behind a new pair of sunglasses. "Why send other agents?"
Isaac looked out across the desert flatlands, "Because we're still testing her strengths and weaknesses- so far there's not much of the latter. We may need you to go after her sooner than expected."
"Then send me. I am her weakness."
"Of course, but you know it's not that simple. She's also your weakness. Since she's arrived here she's gained numerous companions; if you want to go after her and live, you'll need a team. The best of the best. You'll also need to be inducted into our ranks to gain access to our near-infinite resources, as well as meet those who are making this a possibility to begin with."
It made sense why Anatolius couldn't just jump in; he knew the Greyrunners didn't operate like that. They were slow and methodical, working from the shadows as they pulled the strings of the world. He already felt like a marionette dancing on them, the strings attached by unseen hands, but it was all a means to an end. His only chance to set things right.
"What do I need to do?"
"First you'll run a series of assignments, just to test your abilities. I know what you're thinking and I assure you we aren't using you to our advantage- I know your talents, as do many others, but the bosses want to see for themselves before they make you an unofficial member of the Greyrunners. And they all involve securing control of New Vegas in one way or another. This way you'll get to work with other operatives. See how our infrastructure works. Before we begin, do you have any questions about us?"
Anato spoke before the thought even sparked in his head. "All right. I want to know the history of the Greyrunners, and not the version your bosses want me to hear. The real history." He had little data on them, and even less of it confirmed, but from what he did know they were older than the United States itself. Much older.
Isaac smiled his businessman-like smile. In the sun his features were more easily distinguished; he looked like a normal man Anatolius would see anywhere, with blue eyes and dark short-cropped hair, an even complexion, square jaw, medium build. But there was something more to him. A light in his eyes... knowledge behind that calm gaze. He was part of humanity's upper echelon, and the Legionary found himself wanting to be a part of it without even knowing what it was.
"They call us by different names, depending on what part of the world you're in. The Greyrunners. The Dorians. The Architects. It all means the same thing. We are the sole shapers of modern civilization, cleaning up the mess of Vault-Tec and the Enclave after they decided to end the world."
"I thought the Pre-War nations destroyed the world after running out of resources?"
"That's the official reason. They merely expedited the inevitable greed of the major superpowers. Anyway, we existed long before that; long before they did. Back then we were known as the Freemasons. And later, the Illuminati. Though by then any true evidence of our existence had faded into obscurity.
"We shaped all of the nations for centuries along their given paths, for the greater good of mankind, but we were unable to stop the world from collapsing. In the end, most of us survived. Now we guide the re-emergence of humanity as they leave their Vaults and start anew."
It was just as he expected. Anatolius was dealing with the most powerful faction in the known New World.
"Why couldn't you stop it?"
Isaac kicked at the dirt. The man noticed his overall demeanor shift ever so slightly, "It was… complicated. Not only were we betrayed from the inside right before the bombs fell, but stopping it from happening was like trying to stop a bullet with a sheet of paper. Up until then we'd calculated everything perfectly, we knew how to circumvent the apocalypse, we had clean energy alternatives and safer fusion methods and had even introduced them to the major nations. We had all the data. What we didn't calculate properly was the eventual avarice of humanity, and how it grew exponentially as people got desperate. The mismatch of our technology and our wisdom. In short, we failed where we should have succeeded. And after it all came down we swore never to let it happen again."
Anatolius scratched the stubble on his chin, letting the words stew for a minute, picking out hyperbole that may or may not be true. "Sounds noble enough, even if you failed in your mission. What do you do now? And how did the Greyrunners survive?"
"A better question would be what don't we do? Well, we do many things. As for how we survived; most factions that survived the Great War did so by going underground, retreating into their own technologically advanced vault-like shelters. Ours were highly advanced, scattered throughout the world. The first thing we did was prevent the Enclave from returning the way they intended to. They were the most equipped and advanced faction besides us, and they were directly involved in the creation of the unethical Vault experiments; something we condemned as a waste of human lives- what good is the data if it cannot be used? We spent the first hundred years sabotaging the Enclave wherever we could; leaking FEV radiation into their bunker complexes, sending in double agents to replace equipment with faulty tech. When the Brotherhood of Steel rose to prominence in the west we ensured their survival by helping to eventually rout and destroy the Enclave, but also making sure the Brotherhood could never rise to absolute power.
"Within two-hundred years, the radiation had lowered to mostly habitable levels around the world. Our major issue at that point was the Vaults, and finding the Secret Vault that housed Vault-Tec employees and their families. We never found it. Only one hundred and twenty-two Vaults were constructed, and finding most of them required hacking into Enclave terminals and mainframes, or scanning the wasteland with electromagnetic imaging. The Vaults themselves were faulty by design, made not to preserve humanity but to ultimately subject them to a variety of experiments, and so when we found a Vault, we would repair it- usually without them knowing- and set them free once their respective outside environment was suitable. Once that was over, we focused on the rebuilding of all nations and settlements, and now, here we are."
"Here we are," the Legionary echoed. "You guys have quite the impressive resume."
"Indeed we do. Now our job is keeping the incredibly delicate balance that we've helped cultivate, but it's not easy, and as you can probably guess, some of our decisions are less than ethical. Sometimes we must sacrifice entire populations simply to prevent the balance from spinning out of control. Sometimes good men must die for the benefit of all. But in the end, we are committed to the rise of a new, tolerant, sustainable civilization that will not fall to greed. We represent a greater good, a better future. And we want you to be a part of it."
As he did last night, Anatolius sensed no deception from the Greyrunner agent. It seemed he truly believed in what he was saying, and for now, that was good enough.
"I'm ready. What's the first assignment?"
Isaac smiled again, but this time it was more genuine. "It should be fun. There's a transient raider group that call themselves 'The Black Widows', who've set up camp a little too close to one of our dead-drop sites a few miles west. The two of us will do some preliminary reconnaissance, then take them out silently. Nothing crazy. I'll be wearing a device that will allow several of our leaders to monitor your progress personally- don't let it put you on edge, Anatolius; they are quite excited to see what you are made of."
"I don't like being watched. Don't they already know based on what you've told them?"
"Neither do I, but sometimes it is necessary, and I assure you in the Greyrunners oversight is necessary. They are well aware of your many talents, but for those same reasons aforementioned they will need to see a trial run. Think of it as an exercise; I'm sure you have plenty of steam to blow off. Hell I know I do."
Anatolius knew he would relent to it, even though he didn't like the fact that someone would be looking over his shoulder. "Yeah, I guess you could say that. What happens after this assignment?"
"Well, then we take you in. You'll be shown our headquarters and outfitted with Greyrunner technology as an independently contracted agent. A few more missions operating both autonomously and with a crew, and you'll be ready to face down Angel. She'll never see it coming."
The name sent a shiver rushing up his spine. "No, she won't."
"I like your attitude. Keep it up and we'll have her within the week."
A moment of silence passed, the sun working its way up and through the clouds and sending a stretch of light cascading across the Vegas ruins. Unbidden, a thought popped into his head.
"Earlier you said you tracked her to the mojave, before she became a courier."
"Ah yes," Isaac replied. "We've had previous dealings with her, none of them good. After she left Utah she tried interfering in our operations more than once, and always managed to get away before we could get to her. We were aware of the betrayal but with all the instability in the region we wouldn't have done anything about it until after the Legion settled. She's a loose end, Anatolius. For both us and you. That is the common ground we share, and just one more reason we want you to be our frontrunner in this region."
"And what happens when it's over- do I become a loose end as well?"
"Of course not," Isaac was quick to say. "You were once the heir to a great tribe, but now you are the heir to all of the mojave. We cannot rule this place ourselves. The Greyrunners need a visionary outside our ranks, and after years of careful consideration, we've deduced that that person is you."
He supposed that getting betrayed in the end wouldn't happen simply because it invalidated everything they were doing in the here and now. Anatolius was ready to cast off the iron chains of the Legion and start anew. Perhaps when she was dead, then he would finally find peace.
"Good enough."
"Excellent. Well, if your questions are satisfied, I believe you have a job to go to. I'll meet you at the Wrangler when your shift is over. We'll go from there."
"Alright."
The Greyrunner seemed to sense his disdain for his current posting, and chuckled-
"Don't worry, I can tell you right now the postings I was assigned to my first few years as a Greyrunner were much, much worse. It may be an annoyance now, but imagine where you'll be in a week."
He motioned to leave, then added at the last minute, "Also, I noticed you were making waves the other night in Vegas. Throwing off your superior from what you're actually doing. I left it out of my report in case the higher ups thought it was too brash, but I saw it for what it was. You're a better agent than I, once you strip away the technology and the information. Do not forget your worth."
Anatolius nodded, "Thanks."
The Greyrunner nodded in return, tipped his hat, and walked away. Anatolius stood there for a minute, thinking, then entered his safehouse and barred the door shut behind him.