Calhoun let out a long breath once he was sure the ghouls were gone, and invited Celia to come outside with him. "We'll let Ed and Ann have a little alone time," he said, conspiratorially. Celia sighed, defeated, and walked outside with him.
They went along the town wall, dull metal looming above their heads. Celia tossed the can up and over the wall, then shuffled her feet angrily. "I wish you wouldn't do that," she said.
"Do what?" He asked, innocently, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his Brahmin-skin outfit. It was itchy and rough, but kept one cool in the hot light of day.
"Manipulate people," she said. "Make them do what you want."
"It's my job," he countered. "Leading people is much easier, if they already want to be led."
"It's not honest," she replied. "No one will trust you, if they think you're lying to them."
Calhoun laughed, hooked her arm, and pulled her to face him. She backed away, into the wall, and he leaned on an elbow above her head. Tilting his eyes down to look at her, he murmured, "Out here, is honesty still a virtue?"
She looked down, crossed her arms over her chest, and muttered, "Maybe not."
"Let's change the subject," he said, and brushed a curl out of her eyes. "How are you doing?"
Celia's cheeks reddened violently. "I'm fine, thank you," she said, nervously.
He smiled at the sight. She was on the ropes, now. "If you have a problem, you come tell me, okay?" She nodded, just barely. "If anyone bothers you..."
"I'll be fine, thank you, Overseer," she said, and moved away from him, walking along the wall.
Calhoun grinned to himself, feeling a lot better. Check that off my list, he laughed to himself. He felt a lot better, having aired his dirty laundry. Getting that walking horror show to eat from the palm of his hand was also satisfying. He walked off, whistling to himself. Things were starting to look up.
Lionel agreed to lead the scout team to the military base, and begrudgingly agreed to let them pay when they were able. Celia was amazed at the change of attitude he evinced, once Lilian had returned. There was no anger, no mean laughter, no grumpiness, just a silly old man in love.
Idly, she wondered why Lilian would ever leave. It was pretty clear the effect the woman had on the old ghoul. She noticed Calhoun watching her and colored. Never mind, she thought.
The men arranged the gear, and Calhoun saw the group away from Grayling with their guns rattling across their backs and empty sacks blowing in the wind. There was no extra food to take with them, so the anticipation of getting to the base was palpable. If they didn't find anything there, they would go hungry for the next two to three days. Celia had lost a lot of weight, already. She'd seen ribs sticking out of her side, when she dressed.
The flat of the road stretched out in front of her, the wind picking up as it barreled through the rocks to either side. It was warmer than the day before had been, and she had shorter legs than all four men. She had to jog to keep up with them. Simon and Pesaro were arguing, and she only half-listened. The sweat running down her back distracted her.
"Why did I get a stupid pistol?" Simon asked. "I wanted a rifle!"
This went on for some time, until Celia was so hot and sweaty that she couldn't stand it. Her arms were tired from the Brahmin-milking, crop-tending, back-breaking farming she'd been doing for the last month. "Shut up," she muttered, pushing her hair out of her face.
"I agree," Mike Rind said. "You're flogging a dead horse."
Simon shot them a look. "We're nearly there," Lionel rasped. "Over these hills."
Everyone grew quiet as they walked up the slight incline, stopping once the walls of the buildings were in sight. A chain link fence stretched in between two mortared walls, blocking some of the view, but a large white building and several smaller bunk houses could be seen. There was an open courtyard with the road leading to the main building in a curve with plenty of room to run, if they needed. Motion across the court brought them the first sighting of the robots. The group ducked out of sight behind the hill.
"Protectrons," Celia said. "And a military model Handy―err, Mister Gutsy." She pointed at Simon. "You sneak up on the Protectron. They're slow enough, you shouldn't have a problem. I'll take on the Gutsy."
Without another word, she disappeared over the hill and ducked through the chain link fence. She heard someone griping behind her, and ignored it. Slinking around a fancy sign that was about hip-height, she moved towards the Gutsy.
She saw Simon squeeze through the fence, and charge at the Protectron. The Gutsy turned and registered Simon's existence, and began to move away from her. Dashing forward, she pulled her screwdriver out. She scaled the hovering robot, pried open the casing with a quick pop, and disabled it by jabbing a thumb onto the manual shutdown button. The Gutsy jerked, shuddered to a stop, and she collapsed on top of it as it fell to the ground.
Once she'd gotten up, she moved low across the court toward Simon. He was walking in a circle around the Protectron, trying to avoid the lasers it was shooting. It sounded a warning, and she rolled her eyes. "C'mon, Simon!" she said, and levered the casing open while it was distracted by the teenager. Its hands spun in the air, slowing, then stopped fully.
Simon's eyes were wide, staring at Celia. She pushed him back toward the others. "Good job, Landis," Pesaro said, fixing her with an appreciative look.
"How about you guys follow me and try to keep an eye out?" she said, grumpily.
"Could you stay in sight at all times?" Pesaro asked, a knowing smile on his face. Celia ignored him.
"Let her go," Lionel said. "Simon and me, we'll walk the fence. You guys go through." He made a loud grating noise that she supposed was clearing his throat.
Pesaro nodded and said, "We'll meet up on the other end of the yard."
Celia went ahead of Mike and Pesaro, crouch-walking slowly across the courtyard to the north. The three moved around the buildings, sweeping the yard, and disabled a few more Protectrons. Pesaro kept a tally of the robots that they'd disabled, fences and other things in need of repair, and how many buildings were usable. "Let's check the main building over there," Pesaro said, once they'd met back up with Lionel and Simon.
"Wait," Celia said. "Robots in there might be more difficult. Let me refresh my memory." She set her pack down and sat on a slab of concrete, pulling out the manual.
"Everyone take a breather, then," Pesaro said.
Lionel parked himself on the ground near Celia, looking with interest at the pictures in the manual. "I had an aunt, had a Protectron in her office building," he said.
She was grateful for the conversation. Between Simon's dumb comments, Pesaro's nagging, and Mike's overall snottiness, she needed a friendly face. Celia turned to him, the manual across her knees, and showed him the picture of the Protectron. "Maybe we can get one of these guys for you," she said, smiling at him. "Would that be adequate recompensation?"
Lionel didn't reply, staring at the pictures in the book. He pointed at a diagram of the energy cell that powered the robots. "What is that?"
Celia tried to explain that all the robots ran on energy cells powered by an electrical reaction. She wasn't entirely familiar with how they worked, but she knew the basics. Lionel didn't seem to understand at all. He pleaded out after a few minutes, claimed he was getting a headache. Simon grinned and made a stupid face. Celia glared at him and shut the book with a snap.
"I'm ready," she said to Pesaro. She looked up at the cracked wall. "Let's get in there and clear it out."
"I appreciate your gung-ho attitude," Pesaro said, "but let's take it slow."
"Lead on, Commander Pesaro," she said in a mocking tone.
He shot her a sour look as they entered the building.