Three shadows departed from Grayling that night. One was quite loud, but was effectively shut up with a hard kiss.
Celia turned away from the two ghouls, embarrassed. Lionel released Lilian, and explained to her that there was no other option. The time for getting was good, so they'd better get and go. Lilian was quiet, stunned, put her hand to the place her lips had been, and looked away.
Of course, she was angry. First her Celia went missing, and then Lionel had, even though she was the one who'd asked him to go. He didn't come back for ages, and when he did, his arm was gone. How would they survive in the wastes, now? She'd seen him fall from a rock wall, get up and walk away. He'd taken a baseball bat to the face without blinking, once. But losing an arm? That was dramatically different.
The poor girl. Something was going on with her, Lilian could tell. She said she was coming along because she was tired of being harassed by the soldier she called Mayer. Lilian knew that fear in her eyes. Any girl should, she thought. Whatever those soldiers were doing, it wasn't right.
Lilian frowned, and wondered what had happened out in the wastes, with the soldiers.
"Don't be sad," Lionel said, spotting her frown. "It's not forever."
The old coot. Treating her like she was fragile, but shaking her up like a soda bottle. Lilian was quite used to his moody inclinations. She'd never let it build up to the point of letting it get under her skin. "I'm not," she said, huffily.
But she was worried. Firstly, about herself, trapped on what would likely be a long journey across the wastes with Lionel. She'd gone away from him, before, because she needed a break. Lionel was... overwhelming, sometimes. And so damn grumpy.
Secondly, she was worried about the kiss; Lionel had not been one for physical intimacy, and she'd never pushed the issue. What was going on that he felt she finally deserved a kiss after ten years of nothing? That, in itself was too suspicious for her to not consider it trouble.
And she wondered about the girl. Celia was moping, acting like a sullen child. She acted like that when she was thinking about her people in the base. Lilian understood Celia felt put upon by the negativity. It hadn't been a stress-free life, she'd led.
Lilian went to her side and smiled at her, then put her raggedy hand through her whole one. But even Celia had no smile for her, tonight. That was worrisome. Celia always had a small smile for her.
"Someone had better explain this to me, once we get wherever we are going," she announced, then shut her mouth and walked in silence.
Paramount Control rejected the offer that Calhoun had given up, regarding the robots and engineering skills. The town was just too far away to effectively police, or do business with, and Paramount reported that the High Ferrule had no desire to expand out that far. An alternative solution was given, one that would negate any need for the people of Stockton to worry about their stunted growth or their skills going to waste.
Wade really wished he was looking at something other than a D2S order. Detain, Ship, Sort. The people of Stockton were doomed, though given that they had a variety of technical skills, they'd likely be placed in low-priority positions along the radio towers that dominated Detroit's skyline. That is, if they survived the conditioning.
Wade felt the pulse from the infrasonic tower he'd installed wash over him. That was something he was used to, and he ignored it. But a nagging thought in the back of his mind kept unraveling the static hum of the infrasound, and he couldn't make it go away. It was disturbing. The horror of what Sigma had been ordered to do leaked into his mind like oil over a hot engine, bubbling and sticky, burning onto him.
At least they hadn't been ordered to disable the location. Wade was grateful that the base would remain standing.
He wasn't looking forward to the 250-plus mile trip, either. The residents were mostly older folk, twenty-nine people, including one heavily pregnant woman and one small child, no more than a year old. Not all of them would make it to Detroit.
Wade accessed the console in the supply room, and reprogrammed the robots to follow Sigma's orders. He didn't want to do it. It was an order. When he was done, he contacted Bradley and Sigma initiated the D2S order.
Bradley, displaying his usual calm exterior, marched to Calhoun's office and arrested the former Overseer. Calhoun, in his own calm way, did not react at all, merely followed orders while watching them with those shining black eyes of his.
Sigma secured the prisoners, the robots gathered in the courtyard standing by silently. Wade, Angus, and Mayer lined them up along the road.
"I expect you are confused," Bradley said. "That is well. Confusion is a normal reaction to this post-apocalypse we live in. You may feel safer in the knowledge that Paramount has kept lower and middle Michigan safe for fifty years, and will not fail now." He walked down the line, looking at each person.
Bradley gestured to the other members of Sigma. "These men, before you, are the product of a society raised up above the confusion, to become more than mere workers. They are soldiers. The best and most dependable patrol in the wasteland, working to make lives easier. Lives, like yours, and the people of Grayling. Grayling has sworn allegiance. They knew the cost, when they were established.
"You have sworn allegiance, but you do not know the cost. Now, I will show you." Bradley gestured to Wade, who keyed in on his prompt to release another infrasonic wave, more powerful this time.
The group gasped and wailed. Wade felt the sounds on his skin, prickling at his mind. The lingering thoughts about wrongness remained, but dampened.
"You will be returned to Detroit," he said. "Once we arrive you will be sorted and put to work in various fields, provided you survive the trip. This is non-negotiable."
Someone swore, and Bradley pulled his pistol and shot the old security officer through the forehead. "Any more objections?" he asked. "No?" He ran the pistol down the line of people.
"Why?" Jack Calhoun asked.
Bradley moved to the man, put his pistol behind the black man's ear and watched him squirm. "Because," he said, "there are more important things in this world than an individual person."
Someone broke the line and tried to run. Sigma watched him run, and did not shoot. The sentry bot sounded off. "Hostile detected. Commencing neutralization."
The man fell near the gates of Stockton.
After, a demure line of former Vault dwellers marched across the land to the south. They were guarded by four Paramount soldiers and a group of Protectrons, Mister Gutsys, and one lone sentry bot.