Begin Recording

Going Back

Recording by Scribe Ellison

I wanted to go back immediately. Emotional thing, not just 'I want to talk to Shaun again' but also, 'I want to see if it really was like I remember.' Standing out here under a spitting rainstorm and dust and stink where somebody's burned the radroach that was supposed to be dinner, it makes you doubt that a place like the Institute is real. And I wanted to talk to my son again. And I needed to, to protect my friends. Only now 'my friends' had somehow become 'my people' and just wanting folks like the Abernathys and the Warwicks to be able to farm in peace so we'd all have enough to eat had become something big and scary and out of control.

And I had to take Doctor Virgil his serum because he was also in danger of getting big and scary and out of control. I slogged across the Glowing Sea for what I profoundly hoped would be the last time, back in my radiation-proof power armor equipped with a new batch of stealth boys so the inhabitants of that irradiated hell didn't see me. Again my map said I crossed the same territory, the shortest route between Somerville Place and Virgil's cave, but again the scenery was different. Or maybe those orange puddles had just now appeared. They didn't look like rain, or water at all, more like some horrible oil that came up from the earth rather than falling to it. A couple of bloodbugs were dozing in the stuff. I thought they must be dead, and walked too close and they came after me, but I managed to grab them and crush them one at a time. Power armor saves the day!

Virgil I found standing staring into space like he'd forgotten himself in the middle of something, but he snapped to attention when he heard the can chimes. "Well! I'm glad to see the relay didn't completely vaporize you."

"Were… you expecting it to?" I asked as I struggled out of my suit.

"Not really, but I'm glad to be right. And what about the serum? Did you find the serum?"

I got the case with its glowing tag and held it out, "This it?"

"Yes! that's really it!" Jubilant, Virgil snatched it and opened the case, looking at the vials one at a time. "All right, let's see… retrovirus has matured nicely, density gradient is high..." he muttered as he went over to his chemistry bench and loaded the two vials into an injector.

"Is that really a cure for FEV?"

"Sadly no. This serum will only counteract the specific strain I infected myself with. Once I have my own mind back I may be able to use the principles to design a broader antidote, but that will be the work of years. All right, here we go." And he pushed the injector against his wrist, wincing at the sting. "And now, we wait."

"How long until you know?"

"Hard to say. Nothing like this has ever been tried before. Days, maybe a few weeks. You don't need to stay. I have prepared for any medical changes that may occur as my body reverts. And you've kept your end of the bargain. Thank you."

"Virgil, I have a chip for the molecular relay. I could teleport there, leave you my radiation suit. Doctor Li told me the chip couldn't be tracked but she could have lied."

"No. The risk is too great. If I ever need to rejoin the world I can ask the Children of Atom for help. Mother Isolde said she could transport me safely out of here. Right now I am looking forward to having my own fingers back so I can resume my experiments."

So I left, not at all sure I was doing right. I thought Virgil should have come back with me as a super mutant and reverted in a safer place, but he was sure that he'd be tracked by the Institute anywhere he went.

It did work, by the way. It was a few years later that I went back, I was there to ask Mother Isolde if her followers would like to haul away all the radioactive barrels we find around, but I went to the cave to check on Virgil as well. I'd expected to find him dead, but he was fine. Fully human, not at all what I'd expected his human form to look like, and happy to talk my ear off about his work towards a cure for FEV. He said he'd pack up and move to Diamond City one of these days but we're still waiting for him to appear.

But I didn't know that then, so my mood was dark when I finally trudged back into clear air. The day was dusty and hot. I got out of my suit and just left it, took the fusion core with me. And there it rots, too radioactive to salvage.

And then I gave in to temptation and relayed myself to the Institute. Where everything was cool and clean and safe. Except for me, because the first person I saw as I stepped out of the elevator was one of the kids and she informed me that I stank. I headed for my rooms to wash up and shove my vault suit into the laundry machine.

This was not the only time kids in the Institute said I smell, and while that time I definitely did I've also gotten it when I haven't just been sweating all day in sealed power armor.

As I emerged dressed again and wondering what to do next my son spoke from a speaker in the wall. "Welcome back. Would you like to join me for dinner? And no, there are no cameras, I merely noticed that the doors had been activated."

I wasn't sure there was a microphone but I said, "I'd be happy to come for dinner. I'll be right up."

I guessed the Director ate in his quarters not in the canteen with everyone else, and I was right. When I got up there my son greeted me with a smile and a table set for two with a nice dinner of vegetables and a few dishes that had to be nutrient paste prepared in ways that mimicked meat. The food was the first topic of conversation, how the Institute grew its plants, how nutrients were refined from soil gathered from outside and reclaimed from leftovers via composting. Nothing in the Institute was wasted, Father was quite proud of that. I talked about farming and how much work it was and then wandered into talking about prewar food and that wandered into reminiscing about the world my son had been born into and the life he would have had.

"Nate had a baseball bat and glove for you, before you were even a year old… did you have a family here? When you were a child? Everyone calls you Father."

"I was raised by the whole Institute, family with everyone. But practically, by a series of Miss Nanny robots. They started calling me Father instead of Shaun. I don't think I even knew my full name until I became Director and found my own file. That's how I learned about my parents as well, from a Vault-tec document my predecessor saved. Nathan Roland Mason, soldier, decorated. Emily Rhonda Mason, attorney, promoted quite young."

I laughed. "I was the most junior partner and I think I only got in because the rest of the partners were old white men. With me they got young, female, white enough without being too white but definitely not Chinese. Papa's family is from Chile and Mama's from the Philippines, both so far back that we're just American. But skin color was important before the war. That's one of the few things that actually got better when the world blew up."

"How strange. I have read about prewar society..."

So we had dinner, talking about the old world and about building civilizations. Shaun was so passionate. He never raised his voice, I'm not sure he wanted me to know how proud he was of what he'd built, but since I felt the same way about Sanctuary…

"I have a favor to ask of you. You have had contact with the raider gangs on the surface. You... shoot them."

He wasn't wrong. "Only the ones who won't stop trying to shoot us. Why do you mention raiders?"

"A rogue synth has taken over the raider gang at Libertalia. His memories have been erased and his identity altered. He believes he is a man named Gabriel. Under his leadership the raiders have taken many innocent lives. I plan to send a courser to reclaim the synth, but I'd like you to go with him and assist."

"Reclaim..?"

"Use the synth's recall code. The courser will return it here."

"I see..." My mind fumbled for what to say next. "How did the synth lose its memory?"

"Railroad interference, probably. They have technology to alter a synth's programming, in a misguided attempt to foster 'free will.'"

"Don't synths have free will? They're intelligent and they're certainly self-aware."

"They approximate human behavior, yes, but they are still our creations. As this 'Gabriel' demonstrates, the synth mind without proper supervision can become very dangerous."

"I see." I said again, though it was exactly the opposite of what I was thinking. I didn't see. I wanted to see what my son saw, because maybe he was right but I kept seeing Nick and Glory and the boy and I couldn't see them as just mimicking humanity. But this synth had become a raider. "Can the courser hold off for a day?"

"I suppose. There is a relay location on Nahant Wharf. The courser will wait there for you. Don't take too long though. Any delay could cost lives."

He was right. "I'll deal with that synth. I'd better go now. Thank you for dinner."

"Stay safe."

I grabbed the rest of my gear and used the relay to send myself to a point not far from Railroad headquarters. Already annoyed that I couldn't teleport right there in case I was being tracked after all. The Brotherhood may have a point about some technology being too much, because being able to get anywhere without walking is incredibly tempting. And then we all realized that the molecular relay meant I could show up to protect the people at a literal minute's notice and soon I hated the thing.

I got down the steps into headquarters and Deacon waved hello, "How are ya? I barely got back, please don't say you need me somewhere else."

"Information is what I need. On a synth named Gabriel, designation..." I fumbled in my Pip-boy for the note.

But there was Desdemona stepping in front of me, her eyes hard as flint. "Should I believe what you told Deacon? Because I have a hard time believing it."

Sudden exhaustion dragged on my shoulders. Des must have seen it because her next words were softer. "Really? Your son?"

"Yes. He sent me to bring back a synth who's… leading a raider gang? Do you know anything about him? I'm supposed to meet a courser and take him into custody."

Deacon came back with an actual paper file, written in code. "B5-92, remember him? He wanted all his memories erased, down to the fact that he's a synth. Doctor Amari didn't approve of letting the guy wander around the Commonwealth not even knowing he had to watch out, but he insisted. He must've gone through some things, but which of us hasn't?" Folder down Deacon added, "Everyone knows the Libertalia gang. All the raider top ten hits: murder, torture, wiping out whole caravans..."

I looked at my friends. "I know what to do with runaway synths and I know what to do with raider bosses. What do you think I should do with him?"

I was hoping the Railroad would swoop in and fix the problem but Desdemona just said, "Don't let them take him back."

But Deacon said, "No, that's exactly what she should do!"

"Deacon!"

"Think about it, boss. We sacrifice one synth and gain the trust of the Institute for one of our agents."

"She gains the trust of her son. Then how do we trust her?"

It hurt. "You can trust..." I had to stop to bring the words together. "You can trust me to protect all of you because you're my friends, and work towards freeing synths because that's something I believe in. But you can't trust me to obey every order because I have other things to protect too."

Desdemona's face was still set and suspicious.

"Give her a break boss, her whole world fell apart and she's still standing."

A sigh, and Desdemona gave in. "Fine. I don't like it, but Deacon has a point. As a raider, B5 wouldn't have much chance anyway, so throw him to the coursers. But use his sacrifice well because you won't get another one. And I hope to god we really can trust your loyalties. A lot of lives are riding on you."

"I know. I don't like it. I need your help, I need so much help I can't even imagine it. But I can probably manage this synth, and since there's going to be a courser there with me you all need to stay far away."

"You'd rather have a courser along? I'm wounded!"

I laughed. "Only because I don't care what happens to a courser, but I like having you around, Deacon. In limited doses. I'm off. I'll leave a record in a dead drop to let you know how it went."

Then I had to hike far enough away to feel safe using the relay to get home to sleep and then gear up for action in the morning. I sent myself to Nahant Wharf and met the courser, X6-88. Who was… less creepy than the other courser, but not by much. He was dressed like every courser. Long coat and mirrored sunglasses and ready with an Institute laser rifle. He didn't smile or say hello, just, "I've already neutralized the perimeter guard. Just give the word and we can start the assault on the main flotilla."

"Let's go."

"Right behind you, Ma'am." But most of the way up he was in front of me, and I wasn't about to argue. Libertalia is this multilayered raider city built on boats, some still floating and some beached or leaning up halfway in the seabed. You have to walk on wobbly platforms while raiders shoot at you from catwalks. No fun at all. X6 was a lot more surefooted than I was. Coursers have better balance than humans.

Usually I let raiders escape if they run. I don't like killing, and I try to hope that a surviving raider might manage to kick the chems and turn things around. It does happen, occasionally. X6 was not interested in mercy. We blasted our way through the raiders, making our way towards the central tower of Libertalia, a platform built onto the back of a boat stuck nose-first into the seabed. It was the obvious place for the boss to live, at the center of the defenses and up above the slime and stink of the water. Libertalia was on the bay, but it was easy to tell that the floating camp disposed of its waste over the side.

The platform was up a ladder with a trapdoor at the top, and at the bottom X6 stopped me to tell me the synth's recall code, a string of numbers and words. I let my Pip-boy record it so I could just read it off. The codes are pretty long. X6 said the code would "reset his cognitive processes and make him docile." I wished we were somewhere else so I could ask what it was like for the synth.

When he was sure I was ready with the code X6 shoved the trapdoor open and climbed up to the top of Libertalia.

The synth was waiting. He was a big man, muscular with long wild hair. No visible weapons. He'd decorated his deck with some hanging corpses. It stank more up here than down below.

"Well done, very impressive. Just like me, you made it to the top. So tell me, is the Institute so hard up for resources that it's stealing plunder from honest, hard working Commonwealth gangs?"

"How did you know we're..?"

"Please. That isn't human, but you might be." Gabriel looked me up and down in a way that would've made more sense if I'd been wearing something more stylish than pieces of armor strapped on over a vault suit.

There was no point in talking. "Sorry. You had a choice, and you made it. B5-92, initialize factory reset." I said the code and the synth slumped forward and went still, asleep on his feet. It was creepy, and the few raiders who were still alive freaked out and came running to avenge their downed leader. X6 shot them.

When silence fell X6-88 nodded, put away his weapon and said, "This is X6-88, ready to relay with reclaimed synth B5-92. Please follow at your leisure, Ma'am."

The two synths vanished in a double burst of lightning that was almost lost in the sunlight. I took a few minutes to look in Gabriel's lair, grabbing ammo and caps and anything that looked like it could have been a memento. Those hanging bodies were someone's relatives, but I didn't have the stomach to cut them down or any idea what I'd do with them if I did.

The best thing would have been to burn Libertalia down to the waterline, but enough of the boats were steel that it would have taken hauling in a lot of fuel, more work than I could do alone. As it was the place was just waiting for another raider gang to move in—and one did and I had to go back to clear it out again, but that was when I found Kaynah so it was worth it.

Back at the Institute I found my son in his quarters, working at a terminal that looked out over the heart of the Institute and the elevator. He must've watched me arrive from here. He stood up and smiled when I came in.

"Welcome back. I'm glad to see you return safely. I know the task was difficult but I needed you to see firsthand how dangerous a rogue synth can be."

"Gabriel and his men were sick freaks, hanging their victims up like trophies. I'm just glad it's over."

Father winced at my description, and nodded. "While we can do nothing for Gabriel's victims now, we can at least take comfort in knowing that the threat has been removed. But enough about that. The task is done and you've returned our synth safely to us. Well done. As a concrete sign of my gratitude I've requisitioned a generous supply of arms and equipment for you, in case you ever need to go on a similar mission again. Why don't you go look."

So I headed to my quarters where it was like Christmas, some armor pieces made of the weird white polymer that synths wore for armor. Ultralight and as solid as metal, with the added bonus that it dampened the effects of energy weapons. There were a couple of really nice energy weapons too, though I was pleased to find none of them had the particular upgrades on the weapon I was wearing across my back. Danse would be glad to hear it, if I could ever tell him without worrying that the Brotherhood would kidnap and interrogate me.

The loot was nice but I felt like I should see where I'd put Gabriel.

The boy found me on the way to the SRB. "You came back! Are you going to live here?"

"No, I've got too much to do on the surface. I just reclaimed a synth and I'm going to see what reprogramming looks like. It's probably not something you want to see."

"Maybe I do. Quentin said it looks really scary. He sneaked in." So he still followed me.

Nobody seemed to care that the kid was tagging along. Alana Secord thanked me for bringing the synth back. "He was a prototype for some of the courser programming so I'm not surprised he became violent. You want to see him? It's not much to look at, the process takes days but you can look if you want. Down there."

I saw about what I expected. Gabriel with his hair shaved and raider gear swapped for a hospital gown, in the reprogramming chair pierced with needles. He didn't seem to be awake but his eyes were half open and he twitched occasionally.

The boy hid behind me, but still looked.

It felt wrong. It felt like torture, like hanging prisoners on hooks—which Gabriel had done. Intellectually, it was fair and a bullet through the head was no better. But the feeling of wrongness remained.

The boy whispered, "Alice says they'll do that to me if I don't pass my tests. Then I'd forget everything I ever learned and everybody I know. I wouldn't even be me anymore."

"Father wouldn't let that happen to you. Neither would I, and I have lots of guns. Let's get out of here." It was after a minute that I realized I should ask if people threatened him with being reset. But I was already trying hard not to believe that my son was fine with terrorizing the Commonwealth and I cringed away from learning he was fine with terrorizing this child he'd created.