RYLAN GETS RADICAL

"Alright… For our last situation this morning, your patient is a young lady, let's say 21, lying in a pool of blood. She's unconscious and unresponsive. There's a crowd of people sorta milling about her- Someone has taken their shirt off and is holding pressure on her leg. You can see that it's already soaked through with blood…"

Doctor Isaac licked his finger and flipped the page on his little notepad. He glanced over it for a moment, then looked back up at the gathered students in the fluorescently lit training hall. A familiar tension- the pressure not to crash and burn in front of the medical director- had seeped into the musty air.

"BSI is on, Your scene is Safe. Rylan, bucko, you're up!"

Squid grinned and tipped back in her lawn chair as Rylan of Dakota, the rich new cadet from up North, bolted up out of his chair and looked around the room like a hunted animal. The lights flickered and his eyes went wide. There would be blood on the training hall floor today.

"Uh, BSI, is my- Uh, right! What does my patient look like?"

Doctor Isaac pretended to be confused. "Look like? I don't know, I told you she was a young lady of about 21. She can be really pretty if you'd like. A real smokeshow!"

Rylan shook his head. "Uh, what's her- You said she was unconscious, does she respond to verbal or painful stimuli?"

"Why don't you check?"

About 250 ml of Rylan's soul came gushing out of his wounded body and onto the floor as he limped over to the stiff manikin in the chair. He tried his best to look serious as he shook it by the shoulder and rubbed his knuckles against its plastic sternum. "Hey, hey there lady, are you alright?!"

"No, she's been shot! What the hell are you rubbing her chest for, my wife is bleeding to death! "

Squid couldn't help but enjoy Doctor Isaac's antics. He would've been so much happier as a bartender, or an actor in one of those pre-war holotapes.

"Slap that dumb bitch, Rylan! Get him out of your face!" Squid shouted. She nudged the 'Westside Co-op,' guy, EMT Anderson or whatever, for some support, but he just shook his head at her. Doctor Isaac made an angry gesture in her direction.

"Hey, this is Cadet Rylan's scenario! I don't want the peanut-gallery chiming in until the end!" He gave Rylan an encouraging nod. "Keep going, pal."

Rylan was looking a little bit shocky himself, with his pale, sweaty face looking even more pasty than usual. He took a deep breath. "Uhm, ABCs. Is the Airway clear? Do I see any loose teeth or blood in her mouth?"

"Ohh, there's blood in her mouth alright. She's gurgling every time she breathes!"

"Okay. I'm going to put her on her side for now. How many times a minute is she breathing, and what's, uh… does it seem to be enough?"

Doctor Isaac pretended to consult his notepad. "More than 20 times a minute, at a glance. She's breathing pretty hard. Her lips aren't turning blue yet, so that's encouraging."

"Okay, that's… that could be worse. Given what happened. Has she got a wrist pulse?"

"She does not."

Rylan looked down pleadingly at Doctor Isaac. It was insane how much taller Rylan was than him. Isaac was a pretty tiny dude, which skewed the comparison, but still, Rylan had to be at least 6 foot 3. It should've been illegal to be that tall. "Does she… does she have a neck pulse? A carotid?"

"She does. You remember what that means for blood pressure?"

"Unreliable 70 systolic!" Squid answered, immediately. Doctor Isaac peered at her over his glasses.

"What did I say about the Peanut Gallery? Do I need to remove you from the classroom, Miss Squid?"

Squid gave a dismissive wave. "Nah, keep going. Sorry."

And she was. About the only time she felt that weird feeling in her chest was when she disappointed her teachers. It was half the reason she hadn't dropped out of school by now. They were all good people.

Rylan, meanwhile, kept going through his generic trauma patient script. got a tourniquet on the leg bleed, after Doc Isaac imitated the patient's bitchy husband shouting about it again. And he put an occlusive dressing on the gunshot wound in the mannequin's boob, with three sides taped down to create a makeshift valve.

He also recognized that the patient's jugular veins were super distended, but apparently didn't know what that meant. And also totally forgot to examine the patient's back, or to fully strip the patient, or look for mottling on the knees. Amateur stuff. As soon as he said the word, "Transport," Squid stood up and raised her hand. A figurative rusty knife was clenched firmly in her fist, ready to spill Rylan's guts onto the training-room floor. Ready to show everyone who should've run the call, instead of this pampered rich kid.

Doctor Isaac chuckled a little bit. "Well, it looks like you've got yourself a critic, Rylan! You wanna remind her about Doctor Isaac's formal policy on back-seat medics, before she says anything?"

Rylan's cheeks turned red. He glanced up at the ceiling to avoid Squid's sudden attempt to make eye contact. "Sure. Doctor Isaac's formal policy on back-seat medics is that back-seat medics can, you know… do it themselves."

Doctor Isaac snapped his fingers. "Gotta say it like you mean it, partner! ' Back-seat medics are welcome to try it themselves !' It's in the protocol!"

Squid had not put her hand down. Undaunted, She cocked her head at Doctor Isaac. Doctor Isaac just smiled and peered right on back at her over big round eyeglasses.

"Would you like to try it yourself, Squid? What would you do differently, within the scope of a Fort Mormon EMT?"

Before Doctor Isaac was even done speaking, Squid had already stepped past Rylan and grabbed the Mannequin's shoulder. She pulled it up onto its feet. Just like most of her patients, it was taller than her.

"First of all, I'd do a better assessment by cutting her shirt and pants off and checking the back. Is she fucked up back there too?"

Doctor Isaac shook his head. "No exit wound. It looks like a buckshot kinda deal. But still good to look out for."

Squid placed the mannequin back in the chair, but she wasn't done yet; she'd made her first stab, but she was still setting up the fatal blow. She gave the mannequin a few harsh taps on its neck.

"Does this patient with a gunshot wound to the chest have some JVD, Doctor Isaac? Some jugular venous distension?" she asked, knowing that the answer was "Yes."

Immediately, something in Doctor Isaac's demeanor changed; she had his curiosity now.

"Why yes, Squid! Yes she does have some JVD. I think I might've mentioned that earlier."

Squid was like a devil. She stared unblinkingly at Rylan. "Really? JVD and absent radial pulse? How lucky for me!" She stuck her pointer finger against the mannequin's chest on the side where she'd been shot, then thought for a moment and pulled down her own shirt at the hem. She counted her ribs under her breath. "Alright… I'd use a 14 gauge needle, and I'd stab her between her second and third ribs, at the nipple line. Right here. And if she had big boobs, then I'd measure from… this bone instead. The middle of it." She tapped her clavicle. "And if it didn't work, I'd do it again! I'd listen for a rush of air!"

Doctor Isaac laughed and shook his head. "Amazing… you just ordered a properly indicated needle decompression without even mentioning breath sounds or stethoscopes. Maybe Eddie was right about that one after all…"

The small crowd started to chatter amongst themselves. Squid, meanwhile, continued to stare at her prey, waiting for him to crack; She'd just fatally shanked Rylan's ego right in front of the medical director, and he should've bled out by now. She wanted to see this new kid get heated. Or at least, do the shuffle of shame back to his seat. Anything to show him his place on the totem pole.

But Rylan didn't do either of those things. He lifted his eyes from the floor and he just kinda looked at her. He didn't look angry, or scared, or confused. There was this weird admiration in the way he was looking at her- like he was into her? Or something. He smiled.

"Let's talk after class."

He gave her a powerful nod, and then went to sit back down. He didn't look at her again.

Squid clenched her fists until her jagged nails had dug deep into the skin of her palms. The people in the crowd probably saw that her face was burning red, or saw the veins standing out in her neck. In fact, she could already see Bayen sitting in the back row, grinning and shaking his head at her. She shifted around uncomfortably in place, looked around like she was going to find some sort of help in the walls, and then rushed to sit back down. She couldn't keep herself from staring absolutely bug eyed at the back of Rylan's head.

Doctor Isaac made a little speech and people stood up, but Squid was trapped so completely in her own head that she wasn't hearing a single word.

WHAT WAS HIS DEAL!? Was he into her? Was he on drugs?

"Nah, I spent half my life tweaking out and I'm not like that…"

By this point in her internal meltdown, Squid had completely missed the exodus. Almost everyone else had vacated the training hall; Doc Isaac was gone, Rylan had walked out with him, and the chairs were all empty now. She was sitting completely alone when she felt a familiar pat on her shoulder.

"Kill me," said Squid, instinctually. She waited a few seconds, then reiterated. "I'm not joking, Bay-man. If I leave this room, and he's standing out there waiting for me, I want you to blow my brains out. I'm not talking with him!"

"That's Karma. You shouldn't have done him like that."

Squid wrinkled her nose. " Karma?" The heels of her sneakers squeaked against the floor as she leaned back dangerously far in her chair. She crossed her arms at Bayen.

"That some sort of Eastern thing? What's Karma got to do with me?"

Bayen clicked his fingernails across the top of Squid's chair. It was leaning at a pretty dangerous angle, so he grabbed onto the top bar to hold it steady while he stared off into space. He ran his free hand through his long red hair, like a wise old man might run his hand through his beard.

"It's like cause and effect. When you do good things or bad things, God notices, and God pays you back. Maybe not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But eventually." He started absentmindedly rocking squid back and forth in her chair. She didn't protest. It was kind of fun. "I've heard it explained better, but that's how it boils down. Even if the law doesn't punish your bad deeds, the universe will find ways to make you miserable. And if you do good by your people, even if no one cares, it's good for you in an abstract way. Good things come to good people, you know?"

Squid thought over that for a while. Rocking back and forth in her chair, karma did make some sense in her head. She'd been saying for ages that turning into a sad, boring, blue-blooded husk was a far worse punishment than anything that the NCR could come up with for the people who refused to sell out.

"Alright. I can vibe with karma," Squid decided. But then she stuck her legs out to keep him from rocking her chair any more, because she still didn't vibe with the situation in general. She lowered the chair back to a normal sitting position, and sat hunched over in deep contemplation.

One hand still on the top bar of Squid's chair, Bayen gestured towards the door once more. He seemed to struggle with his words for a moment before speaking again. "...Look, I'm not saying you've gotta give him a hug or anything, but you could try approaching this with an open mind. I've talked with Rylan, he's a good kid. But if you approach him like how you did me, and everyone else, it won't end well."

Squid shook her head. "What do you even mean? It's never ended badly ."

"Yeah, because you're used to bullying vagrants, prostitutes and starving street kids, and harassing extremely tolerant authority figures in an organization of good samaritans." If Squid hadn't already stopped rocking the chair herself, she could tell that this is where Bayen would've stopped. His grip on the bar had tightened, and he suddenly looked very serious. He leaned down to get on her level. "We all put up with it because Julie says we have to. Don't forget that. Your peers, the other cadets? Nobody is pressuring them to play nice. And right now, you only have one real peer. You are one of TWO cadets."

Squid stared at the doorway while the words sunk in. The rusty steel door was still hanging halfway open. Every once and a while a gust of wind would make it swing ever so slightly on its hinges, like it was personally inviting her to push past it and into the scathing light of the high-noon sun.

"That's pretty brutal, Bay-man," said Squid, eventually. Bayen grunted and pushed himself back up to his full height.

"Tough love, Squid. Go reap the consequences of your actions." He gave her one last hardy pat on the shoulder as she stood up. "You're a big girl. You can handle this."

For once, Bayen might have been right. Squid tried to keep that idea at the forefront of her mind when she stepped outside to meet Rylan. She peeked out slowly so he couldn't get the jump on her, but the sun was so bright outside that she could barely see anything. She squinted and put her hand up to shade her vision…

" Ay, don't tell me … GAH!" Squid stumbled back through the doorway as she realized that Rylan's freakishly tall self had been standing just off to the side the whole time, just out of her view. Squid didn't like surprises anymore.

"Sup big dog? So listen, I was just thinking-"

"What the hell do you want?"

Rylan seemed undeterred by Squid's straight shooting. He was still smiling, and he wasn't backing away or throwing up his hands or anything.

"Aw yeah, so I just wanted to study with you. I don't know how you do it, but the way you rattled that stuff off was just badass! You were totally confident. Clearly you understand it in almost like an autistic way, you know? You knew what to do because you understood what was going on there, not because of the protocol."

Squid stood dumbstruck for a moment. If her cheeks weren't red from the heat already, she just might have blushed. "Uh. Thanks I guess?" She coughed and scratched her neck. "I don't really, like, study the protocols anymore. I just study the material. So my treatment paths are jacked. You probably don't wanna study with me."

Rylan shook his head. "Nah bro, that's where I want to be! So far I've just been studying the flowcharts in the protocol, but then I get thrown a curve ball and I've got nothing. You saw how nervous I was. Doctor Isaac was picking me apart."

Squid wasn't sure what to say to that. Being a shitty student but a good EMT was supposed to be part of her "thing." She was only attending classes again because Bayen had goaded her into it with his burnout speech last week, so it was sort of embarrassing that she was now being approached about her 'autistic,' academic performance. But on the other hand…

"Alright, we can study. Maybe even more than once. But I've got conditions."

Rylan stopped smiling all the sudden. "Conditions? Like, what kind of conditions?"

"I've got some plans tonight. So we're gonna take a walk through Freeside. Hit up some nightclubs n stuff." Squid made a finger gun and pointed off towards Fremont street. She clicked her tongue at Rylan. "You coming, 'Big Dog?'"

"Can't we just study at your house? I don't really fit in on the street." Squid rolled her eyes. It'd been less than 30 minutes, and already Rylan was bitching.

"No Rylan, we can't study at my house."

"Why not? You snuck through your window and grabbed your backpack out of your room. I know you told me not to watch, but I saw you wiggle through there. Why didn't we just stay there?" He pointed at Squid's bag. "And what's in your backpack anyways? It keeps making weird noises." Squid shot Rylan an incendiary look.

"Dude, mind your business! Do you wanna study with me or not?" Rylan didn't respond to that. He didn't seem guilty or anything. Just quiet. Taking his time to come up with more stupid questions probably. "Anyways, if you're gonna do EMS stuff, you'll run most of your calls on Fremont Street. So get used to this place."

"Squid! Wassup, Squid Comrade!" Squid turned around. They were out by the Atomic Wrangler right now, and some fat old guy was sitting on the stairs, beckoning towards her. She squinted.

"Who the hell are- oh." It had taken her a minute, but eventually his rosy, bearded face came into focus. She had helped save this guy's life a couple months ago, then shared a sick bay with him because she'd gotten blackout drunk right after. She waved back at him. "Hey Drummerboy! Wasn't totally sure you were gonna pull through. How's that band coming?"

"Oh, you know, comrade. I'm trying to find passionate individuals. It's hard." He cleared his throat. "Oh, speaking of… Do you know how my buddy Snowball is doing? White girl, blonde hair? Girl's got a killer voice and vast, oceanic soul, but she went to the Fort after having a really bad lung attack and I haven't seen her for a while. I thought I'd ask a doctor next time I saw one of you."

"No idea guy. Sorry." Rylan nodded.

"Yeah, sorry bro, we only hang around the fort between calls. We don't do real medicine stuff." Both Squid and Drummerboy stared at Rylan. Squid like he'd just spoken heresy and Drummerboy with idle curiosity. Rylan scratched the back of his neck. "Uh. My name's Rylan by the way. I'm with her."

"Yeah? Well, it's radical to meet you Rylan. Squid is a cool cat. Stick with her." He waved at them as they left. "May the cosmic winds be at your backs, street astronauts."

As soon as they were out of earshot, Squid shook her head. "Ugh. Drummer Boy the diabetic alcoholic, Snowball the asthmatic… I wonder if he hangs out with a fuckin' epileptic too." She pointed at Rylan. "And you. Don't ever tell people that we 'Don't do medicine stuff,' again. I know you don't do a lot of calls, but we do a lot of medicine stuff. When you say stuff like that you kill our rep!"

Rylan shrugged. "I was just being humble," he said. Squid squinted angrily at him.

"Save being, like… humble for when you're around the docs." She turned away for a moment, then turned back. "Humility. Save your humility, is what I meant to say."

They continued on. Rylan looked over his shoulder, back at the wrangler. "Is that not where we're starting?" he asked. Squid shook her head.

"Nah. I misled you. I just wanted to get your attention with the nightclub idea." Rylan looked relieved. "We're actually going to go to prison!"

"I know you don't care but this is a really bad idea," said Rylan. Squid nodded and made a downward motion with her hand. Her backpack, slung over one shoulder and hanging a little bit off, made a strange clicking and clattering noise.

"Keep your voice down. This is dumb as hell, that's why I'm standing watch. If I see a pig, we split." Rylan looked a little bit offended.

"Whoa, what do you mean a pig? Are you talking about the MPs?" he asked. Squid rolled her eyes.

"Duhhh. Five-Oh, Pigs, Baconators, The Fuzz…"

Rylan laughed. "Alright homegirl, I get the point. I'll keep looking inside."

He got up on his tiptoes to watch through the little window in the corner of the cell; he was just the right height to peek in. He was watching a pretty local woman stewing around in her cell. She'd just been booked for who knows what. They'd watched her getting walked in wearing handcuffs by a couple of MPs as they approached the detention center. It took a few tries to figure out which cell she was being held in, but thankfully it was one on the outer periphery of the center.

Squid's bag rattled again. She coughed uncomfortably and moved to cover it up. Rylan shot her a sidelong glance. "Bro, there it is again. What is in there?"

"Doesn't matter. Stay focused on the mission."

Rylan sniffled and wiped his nose. He looked kind of bored. "I still don't think we're gonna see anything crazy. My dad's an MP, right? He told me-"

"Forget what your dad told you!" snapped Squid. Rylan gave her a look of bewilderment. "Keep watching."

"Well, pops doesn't work here anymore, he works on the strip. He told me that it could be corrupt here, but that it's not nearly as bad as people say it is. And I've met some of the other guys from here. They seem like good people." Suddenly he got a very serious expression and went silent. He dropped down from the window for a moment and crouched down to Squid's level. "Alright. Someone is coming in now. I still don't know what you think is gonna happen."

Rylan got back up on his tippy toes and stared through the window. Squid couldn't hear anything from where she was standing. She had no way of knowing what was happening in the jail cell, and even if she did, she was supposed to be focused on watching. Yet she couldn't help but look over her shoulder to see how Rylan was reacting. She couldn't help but analyze his face. He looked really uncomfortable at first. Then downright horrified. Eventually he gave up and stepped down, even though Squid hadn't given him permission to do that yet. He clearly didn't want to look anymore.

"We gotta go," he muttered. Squid waved him back.

"No no no. This is important stuff, Rylan. Look in there, one more time. Tell me what you-"

"Squid! I don't need to look again!" snapped Rylan. He lowered his voice again. "The inmate, she's sucking his… you know."

Squid felt a strange kind of relief. It was bad, obviously. But it felt good to know she wasn't crazy. That she wasn't the only kid who knew about these kinds of abuses. That even someone as sheltered as Rylan could see it for himself. Squid looked around to make sure the coast was still clear. "I'm guessing she didn't ask first?"

"He said that he could have her put in a chain gang, but he'd let her go right now if she did it."

Squid nodded solemnly. "That's what they always say. But you know, there is no-"

"...There's basically no chance of that. They'll probably throw her back out on the street when the jail fills up."

Before anyone could further ruminate on this injustice, the muzzle of a rifle peeked around the crumbling concrete corner, followed by a helmet and a pair of goggles. Squid reacted immediately.

"Five-Oh! Hoof it!" She screamed. She jabbed Rylan in the side with her elbow and ran as fast as she possibly could, which was pretty damn fast, pounding the ruined tarmac beneath her thin rubber soles. She heard them yelling behind her but she didn't bother looking back. She didn't bother looking for Rylan. She could hear his footsteps, lagging just slightly behind her despite his impressive stature. He wasn't used to running away. There was nothing she could do to help him now, either he caught up or he didn't.

"...And this happens often enough that you knew if we waited here for a little bit, it would happen to someone?!"

As it turned out, Rylan caught up. They were both out of breath, covered in sweat, breathing raggedly. Far enough away from the detention block that they could relax. Squid nodded. "Yeah. I mean, not this specifically, but something gross," affirmed Squid. She wiped the sweat off her brow. "Oh my god. I think we can slow down now. They probably didn't even follow us."

Rylan looked like he might vomit. Huffing and puffing, he paced in circles around her. "Are we gonna get in trouble? I mean, I knew that guy! I don't remember his name, but I've met him. And what we saw…" he glanced at Squid. His eyes were wide and bloodshot. He was definitely bugging. "That was a crime. We just watched the police committing a crime!"

"Rylan, dude, I'm gonna give you a little reality check," said Squid. She breathed in hard through her nostrils and bent down to touch her knees. Her lungs were still burning. "You will never, ever hear about this again unless you ask about it. No one cares! They don't need to cover it up. There's no way to get these motherfuckers in trouble. They make the rules."

It took him a minute, but gradually, he seemed to process Squid's breathless rant. He relaxed and settled for being exhausted and out of breath. He sniffled and spit the glob of snot out on the ground. "Well… there's not a lot of MPs here. Dad told me they can't afford it. So if it's so bad then why don't the Kings do anything to stop them?" he asked.

Squid threw her arms up and let them flop back down. "Beats the shit out of me!" she said. She thought for a moment. That wasn't completely true. "Alright. If they saw it happening in front of them, some of them actually would. Sometimes the kings and the MPs beat each other up and whatever. But they ain't gonna get half the gang wasted by shooting up a police station, especially cause then they'd just come back with more guys. The NCR I mean. Not the Kings."

Squid's bag let out a chorus of clicking noises again, and began to shake on her back. She got deadly serious, set it down gently, and peeked inside.

"Alright Squid, you've got me on your side now. I'm not gonna bail. What's in the bag? This is freaking me out," said Rylan. Squid gave him a very serious, very conspiratorial look, as if she was a capo in the mafia and she wasn't sure if Rylan was wearing a wire. She ushered him over and let him peek inside. They stared solemnly at the contents, nestled firmly in a swathe of dirty blankets.

"Where did you get it?" he asked quietly. Squid closed it back up.

"I bummed it off a sewer kid for some jet."

"What are you gonna use it for?"

"You'll see. I'm not trying to hurt anyone, if that's what you're asking. I just think a hundred baby mantises would make a really good political thesis." She pointed at the big glowing sign where The Strip was. "Senator Jackoff is-"

"I don't think that's his name," interrupted Rylan. Squid sighed.

"Yeah, okay, senator Jack Monroe is gonna be giving a speech to his constituents by the entrance to the strip in a couple hours. They've already got some stuff set up."

"What's it gonna be about?"

Squid spit on the ground. If she had a cigarette, she'd have flicked it onto the ground and rubbed it in with her shoe. "Dunno. Nothing good for Freeside, I bet." She opened up another pouch in her backpack, and pulled out a few bundles of cloth- two masks, and two long, ragged ponchos with no markings. She tossed a set to Rylan. "So why don't we show up, listen to what he has to say, and let him know how Freeside feels about it?"

Rylan studied the mask in his hands. It was just a dirty old balaclava that pre-war guys would wear when they robbed a liquor store or did winter sports, but the idea of anonymity clearly appealed to him. She could see it in his eyes. He wanted to do it, but he didn't want to be held responsible for his actions. The mask made it all possible.

Rylan donned the mask and shimmied the poncho over his head. The poncho was way too short for him, and his messy brown hair peeked through the eyeholes; he looked like a goober. An anonymous goober.

"Alright compadre. Let's do it," he said, committing his name to be burned into the history books right next to Squid's. Squid put on a serious face and gave Rylan a proud, solemn nod. But on the inside, she was giddy. It wasn't easy being the only kid who cared enough to stand up to the man. It felt good to have another rebel in arms.

"And so tonight— to you, the great silent majority of my fellow NCR Citizens— I ask for your support."

He stood atop a flimsy plywood stage, behind a wide podium and speaking into a microphone. Senator Monroe. Dressed in farmer's jeans, a button-down t-shirt, and a plate-carrier style bulletproof vest. His cowboy hat and boots were immaculately clean and intact. His voice was so loud over the speakers that it bounced off the walls of the nearby apartment complexes and echoed down the whole street. You could probably hear it on the other side of the gate, too, in the casinos on the strip. Maybe he did that on purpose.

"I pledged in my campaign for the Senate to reach a resolution in Freeside which would result in lasting peace, and lasting safety for our citizens residing in and around Freeside. I pledged to increase the presence of police patrols in the area, with the ultimate goal of seizing it from the dangerous criminal gangs who currently control the area."

"Critics back at home said this campaign would distract from the military campaign against the legion. To them, I say that I am asking for very little, and that all troops would remain in a position to mobilize against the legion if need be. And these critics, they have never once answered, "What about you?" He pointed to the crowd. "What about our citizens here in Freeside? Are we going to leave you to be killed and extorted by local gangs?"
There was raucous applause in the crowd, but also screaming and booing. People were jumping up and down, shaking signs. Squid wasn't the only one who'd gotten the idea to throw shit at him either. A few people threw rotten food or bottles, but they missed or bounced off the podium. That was regular Freeside shit. The military police standing on and around the stage looked wary- their eyes flicked back and forth over the crowd, and they held up their guns up like they were ready to shoot someone at the slightest provocation.

"Is it ready?" asked Rylan. Squid reached into the bag and drew forth the mantis egg. It was practically pulsating. It was a wonder it hadn't hatched yet.

"Careful with it," she whispered. Rylan took it into his own hands. His hands were so soft compared to hers. His nails were clean, his skin was pale… And they were trembling so much. Squid looked into his eyes. "Hey dude. I can do it if you're too scared."

"Other critics say that this campaign violates the rights of the locals here in Freeside. I see you in the crowd, and I hear you! And to you, I say, I understand your concerns! But I believe these concerns to be short sighted."

That did it. Whichever Freesiders weren't angry got angry. There was more yelling. Another round of stuff got thrown- shoes, empty beer cans, garbage, that kinda stuff. Someone threw a glass bottle full of dark red blood, but it splashed ineffectually against the podium and around his feet. The senator didn't react at all, simply scanning the audience with a disappointed look.

"Nah, I'm gonna do it. Screw this guy," said Rylan. His hands were still trembling. But his voice sounded sure. It was hard to tell his expression under the balaclava.

"Alright. Aim higher than you think you need to-"

"I've played baseball! I got this…" Rylan lined up the shot. One of the cops appeared to notice him, and nudged his buddy. He pointed at Rylan and whispered something in his buddy's ear. Then a rotten chunk of meat splashed against the cop's riot shield, and they both got distracted. "Hey big dog, heads up!" cried Rylan, and chucked the egg with all his might. He threw his whole body into that thing.

There's no way the Senator heard Rylan above the rest of the crowd, or really noticed Rylan throwing the mantis egg among all the other random shit getting thrown. But Squid was still proud of him for being conspicuous. And boy was he telling the truth earlier- he got this. There was a big green splash and baby mantids immediately went everywhere, shrieking and flying all over the stage. There must have been like 30 of them.

To the senator's credit, he tried to maintain his composure as his guard dogs shouted orders and ran all over the stage, stomping on the bugs and whacking them with their shields and stun sticks. He held the mic up in the air and displayed it to the crowd like the severed head of a monarch, and cried out:

"This is EXACTLY the kind of thing I'm talking about! This is the kind of cowardly attack my citizens suffer every day!"

Suddenly, one of the mantids sprung up from under a cop's foot and into the Senator's face. He shouted out something Vulgar and dropped the mic. It made a horrible feedback scratching noise, bouncing against the ground and then hanging off the stage by a wire. Senator Jackoff pulled the bug off his face and crushed it against the podium.

"Heck yeah!" Rylan jumped up and gave Squid a big high five, laughing all the way. Almost all the mantids were dead by now, though, and one of the cops spotted them high fiving, a guy with a riot shield. He signaled for backup and started pushing through the crowd.

"Fuck the NCR! Fuck the man! Don't let the pigs get us!" Shouted Squid. She couldn't help herself laughing as the crowd jeered and pushed back against the police, keeping them from advancing. Up on the stage, the senator was struggling to pick his microphone back up. The feedback squeaking was louder than anything else.

Then there was a series of loud pops, from somewhere outside of the venue. A collective gasp arose from the crowd, then screaming. Rylan instantly froze up. Little puffs of smoke and debris shot up from the stage around the center, chunks of the plywood podium splintered as the Senator ran for cover. He tripped on something and fell, and Squid realized that his pants were stained with blood and it was dripping all over.

Another series of pops went off and at this point the crowd was reacting really strangely. Most people were running away, but some people were running towards the stage. They were angry locals, and the cops wasted no time intercepting them. If there were more of them it could've gone in their favor, but they didn't stand a chance, and as soon as the first few got bashed in the skull with a shock club the others hightailed it and joined the rest of the fleeing crowd.

Mr House's pig bots did nothing but watch all this from their nearby post at the gates to the Strip. They didn't so much as raise a weapon or make a noise. Their flickering cathode faces expressed no sympathy as the senator cried out in pain and stumbled off the stage, another volley of bullets ripping through the plywood around him. One of the MPs pulled him to his feet and ushered him to cover.

"Let's friggin' split" suggested Squid, yanking at Rylan's arm. Rylan, who had just been frozen to the spot, broke out of his trance. He nodded and let himself be tugged along.

"Jesus christ. Jesus christ, yeah!"

The two scurried down the street to one of the shelled out high-rise apartment buildings, and dragged themselves in through the broken window. There were dope-fiends shooting up med-x on the first floor landing, so Squid ushered Rylan past them, up the stairs, up another set, and down a long, dusty hallway. Most of the doors were closed or boarded up, but eventually, she spotted one that had been ripped off the hinges. There was a giant hole in the living room floor, and it looked vacant. Squid peeked around inside to confirm. After a tense minute of corner-checking and holding her breath, Squid gave Rylan the thumbs up. They doffed their balaclavas and sat down on the ground.

The gunshots had stopped, but the muffled shouting, screaming and fighting outside was far from over. Squid figured there was no sense holding her breath waiting for it to end- she reached into her backpack and pulled out a tinfoil wrapped tube of boiled Brahmin meat. She cut herself a slice and started chewing on the thick, cold beef. Rylan lay slumped up against the wall, clutching his forehead, completely out of breath. His brown hair was all messed up by the sweat and balaclava.

"Wow! That was badass, right!?" huffed Squid. Silence. Rylan might have nodded a little, but he didn't say anything. Squid cut off another slab of delhi-meat and put it in her mouth. "Anyways, that was all I had planned. If you like, still want to study…" Rylan laughed incredulously. Squid scowled and chewed her food even louder. "I'm serious dude! You've been studying all day, why can't we study a little more? Might save a life."

"What- what do you mean by that?" Asked Rylan. Squid waved her knife at him.

"You've been studying the streets with me brother. You're welcome. Now if you want I can drop some EMS knowledge bombs on you, or we can just go home I guess."

There was another round of gunshots, this time from their direction, and more screaming. Rylan looked downtrodden. He looked at his discarded balaclava with a mixture of fear and disgust. "At this point man… I just wanna make it home."

Squid shrugged. "Fine. But don't say I didn't teach you nothin'."

Rylan didn't say anything to that. He just put his head in his hands and shook his head. Squid sat in silence on the edge of the cavernous hole in the floor, kicking her legs over the edge and staring at the shapes in the darkness below. She cut off another slice of her deli meat. She offered it to Rylan, but for some reason, Rylan didn't want any.