K6-26's first night at the barracks went as expected. It was greeted by its roommates upon its arrival, including:

A Hispanic female with brown eyes and short hair, designated N3-20.

A black male with blue eyes and very short hair, designated B1-97.

A white female with green eyes and short, light-brown hair, designated P4-84.

A black female with brown eyes and neck-length hair, designated D3-15.

And five others.

But the most notable one of the lot was probably L3-63 – K6-26's bunkmate. The female synth had blue eyes, short red-hair, and a pale face. It also had a cheerful, talkative personality.

"Did you see the power armour earlier?" L3-63 asked K6-26 excitedly as the former lay on its bed. "That was Father's parent!"

K6-26 grabbed the clean jumpsuit and underwear that were left folded on its bed (by the laundry staff) and nodded.

"Yes, I saw them. I asked a courser and it told me it's a 'T-51b' model. I wonder if there are others?"

L3-63 and the rest expressed amazement.

"Wow," said L3-63. It sat up and blinked in surprise while looking down at K6-26. "You spoke to a courser on your own, on your first day? That takes guts!"

K6-26 shrugged. "Just felt like asking. Was scary, though."

"Duh!" said L3-63. "Coursers are the meanest bunch around! Imagine getting into a fight with one of them."

Many synths looked terrified at the thought.

"Yeah," said P4-84 from bed H-1 across the room. "Imagine trying to escape and then getting caught. Next thing you know, you're nice and happy doing brand-new chores all over again."

Its black female bunkmate, D3-15, spoke from the top bunk, H-2.

"And that's only if they don't decide to decommission you. Still, I'd rather stay as is, thanks."

There was a moment of silence before B1-97 spoke from bed E-1, at the end of the left row of beds (which K6-26 was part of).

"I heard barracks 87 had a failed escapee. G2-15 ran off during a salvage assignment and was caught near some water-treatment plant. I think the coursers said 'Weston' or something."

P4-84 replied, "We did a salvage op not too far away from there, remember?"

B1-97 sat up in its bed. "Oh, right, the Forest Grove ruins. Could smell the plant from there."

K6-26 began walking to the bathroom door at the far end of the rectangular room.

"Why would it still stink?" K6-26 asked B1-97, which was lying on the bed to the left. "Didn't the surface-people stop using such facilities a long time ago? I thought they did their business wherever they wanted?"

B1-97 shook its head. "That's true, but the smell is coming from the big green super-mutant monsters that moved into Weston again. Their favourite prey is humans, and they love stashing their victims' remains all over the place." (K6-26's eyes went wide.) "So you can imagine the rot that's polluting both the ground and air."

Damn. K6-26 stood in shock for a moment at the bathroom door. The surface is definitely a lost cause.

"Poor G2," said L3-63 while sitting on its top bunk. "He was such a cool guy, you know?" It sighed. "That's one less interesting conversation around here."

'He'? K6-26 stood bemused for a moment. Since when were synths classified as people? Synths were nothing more than humanoid-machines programmed to serve the Institute.

Nevertheless, K6-26 entered the large bathroom and got cleaned for the night. It showered quickly in the communal area, didn't take too long in the toilet, and made sure to exercise good oral-hygiene as expected. After that, K6-26 returned to the barracks and its bed, C-1. Most of the other synths were already tucked in, including L3-63.

"Good night!" L3-63 told K6-26 from the top bunk. "And don't let the bed-bugs bite! Not that we have any, of course."

Yawning, K6-26 mumbled a "G'night" before climbing into bed.


The synths were up bright and early the next morning. As expected, the machines followed appropriate morning-routines and left the barracks within the alloted time. It was a long walk to the commissary for the group of ten, which were joined by several more synths and humans at the tables.

"You can sit by me, if you want," L3-63 told K6-26 upon receiving the morning sustenance. "We can talk for a bit, but I'd rather we not get scolded for 'counterproductive socialisation routines'."

As expected, K6-26 and L3-63 got seated and kept the socialising within acceptable parameters. The machines' assigned sustenance were also consumed within a reasonable amount of time.

"Right-o." L3-63 checked its clipboard which had been attended to earlier by passerby scientists. "Looks like it's off to the residential areas for me. What about you?"

Looking down, K6-26 checked its own latest work-orders. "Lounge-area here, then Advanced Systems."

"Oh, cool." L3-63 looked impressed. "Then I guess that means you'll get to see S9-23 – the child-synth designed by Father. He's supposed to be a replica of Father's childhood."

What? K6-26 blinked in amazement (if not bewilderment). "A child synth?"

"Yeah, but he's not allowed to age." L3-63 looked rather sad. "They deliberately designed him that way. Imagine being a child for the rest of your life."

That was true. None of the synths besides S9-23 could ever claim to have had a childhood. The machines were all constructed as adults and would age at a similar – if not improved – rate compared to the humans.

Moving on, the synths returned the assigned trays and bottles before leaving the commissary. L3-63 set off for the eastern side of the concourse, where a staircase would take it up to its assigned residential-areas. K6-26, however, went south to the lounge and got straight to work in sweeping.

There were two scientists discussing work-topics in the lounge. They were sharing one of the couches in the middle of the room, with their backs to a plant feature. But it hardly interested K6-26 to hear about deadlines, samples, variables, and whatever else was discussed. The only time K6-26 was intrigued was when the topic turned to the surface.

"Wretched morons," said the female scientist to her male colleague beside her. "Our enemies should just kill each other off. There are far more important things for us to spend resources on, like expanding our facilities."

"Indeed," said the male scientist, sipping his coffee. "But at least Sublevel 21-D is coming along nicely."

The female scientist pushed her nose in the air. "If only we made as much progress in keeping the surface world in check. Have you heard about the latest developments of those 'Minutemen'?"

"The successor's bunch? I don't understand Father's parent's mentality here. It's a fool's errand to build all those filthy settlements anyway. Do they even have working showers?"

"Doubtful," said the female scientist. "I mean, they almost certainly don't have working toilets either. Imagine the diseases out there."

"And the smell." The male scientist wrinkled his nose. "What are those 'latest developments' anyway?"

"Their artillery network is now covering much of the southern areas as well. I don't know why Father's parent insists on protecting those disease-carriers."

The male scientist finished his coffee and clicked his fingers to catch K6-26's attention. Wordlessly, he handed over his empty coffee-cup and carried on speaking to his colleague, utterly ignoring K6-26 as it started mopping.

"In any case," he said, "if I were next in line for director and in charge of artillery, I'd do the Institute a double favour: blow the blimp and sabotage the settlements. And as for the freedom freaks, well, their days are numbered anyway."

Blimp? Artillery? Freedom freaks? K6-26 had no idea what was going on above but decided that it was for the best. The surface sounded like a warzone, which was hardly surprising in the first place.

The topic soon returned to the scientists' research, and K6-26 lost interest. It completed its janitorial duties before moving to Advanced Systems to the northwest, across the concourse.

Right away, K6-26 noticed the difference compared to BioScience; Advanced Systems had a lively atmosphere of many rooms and testing. There was even a shooting range where Dr Rosalind Orman was having a go with a rifle. The blue lasers caught K6-26's eye at once, and it couldn't help staring in awe.

Wish I had one of those.

And of course, further into the division, the child synth S9-23 could be seen in one of the rooms along a hallway. K6-26 wasn't sure which one amazed it more: the weapons testing or S9-23 playing with its toys. S9-23 was being observed by a group of scientists making notes.

"Ahem." A male-voice behind K6-26 brought the machine out of its thoughts. "If you are done gawking, synth, there are work orders to be completed. Get moving."

And so, K6-26 got straight to work in cleaning the desks, sweeping and mopping the floors, organising cabinets, moving used fusion-cells to the recycling bins, and doing whatever else was assigned to it. It worked so hard that it barely had time to watch the child synth be taken out for a walk by Dr Janet Thompson.

Bit by bit, K6-26 checked off its list of assignments before being permitted to leave. Once finished, it was given new orders to check three storerooms in the hallways between Advanced Systems and BioScience.

"Need help?" asked the green-eyed, light-brown-haired P4-84 in the narrow curved hallway. It was a roommate of K6-26's. "B1 and I have some time off, so we might as well help a roomie."

K6-26 wasn't sure what to think of this. It was used to doing things on its own. "Er, OK ... I guess."

The blue-eyed, dark-skinned B1-97 arrived with its own bag of cleaning products. It stood in the middle of the hallway, beside P4-84.

"We'll do the third storeroom down the hallway," it told K6-26. "You can do the first and second here."

Feeling both confused and ... grateful? K6-26 accepted the offer and got straight to work on Storeroom 1. Its two roommates went down the hall to Storeroom 3 around the corner.

Weird.

And that was how the rest of the work-order felt. K6-26 finished its first storeroom roughly around the same time it took B1-97 and P4-84 to clean the third one. The trio met at the second storeroom, though K6-26 declined the duo's offer for help.

"Thanks," K6-26 told the pair, "but I'd rather not get into trouble. Don't want them to think I'm lazy or anything."

B1-97 shrugged. "It's no big deal. We synths tend to help one another, if possible."

P4-84 nodded. "Co-operation boosts productivity." It checked the clock on the right side of the hall. "Shall we check on L3 and N3, B1?"

B1-97 nodded. "Yes, it wouldn't be fair to leave them alone with the rocks." B1-97 gave a quick wave at K6-26 while taking its leave. "See you later. And don't be afraid to ask for help, if you need."

The pair left. K6-26 scratched the side of its head in bemusement (and amusement). That was rather nice, it had to admit.

After that, it was just one solo-task after another for K6-26, though there were breaks every now and then (including lunch). It may be a questionable existence, but K6-26 and many others knew better than to complain. In fact, K6-26 saw this firsthand when it passed the clinic run by Dr Dean Volkert in the western area of the concourse.

"Hold still," said Dr Volkert. He injected a large syringe into a female synth's right arm. "Carry on with your assignments, and make sure to record every symptom you experience in detail."

The synth smiled despite clearly being in discomfort. "Yes, doctor. I hope to be a useful test subject for you."

"Mm-hm." Dr Volkert couldn't care less about the synth. He dismissed it by simply turning his back on it and returning to his medical terminal.

The synth left obediently and hardly even looked at K6-26 upon crossing paths. The machines went their own ways outside the clinic.

At some point, K6-26 approached the synth requisition officer out of curiosity. The gen-2 was stationed at its kiosk on the ground floor of the eastern side of the concourse.

"I'm sorry," said the gen-2 in a light robotic-voice, "but you are not authorised to request any supplies. Have a nice day."

Well, at least it was worth trying, K6-26 thought. Not that it actually needed a weapon or armour, though.

By nightfall, K6-26 finished its last task in BioScience and was permitted to return to its barracks. It left in a hurry, had a quick meal in a hurry as well (just two sustenance-bars), and rushed to get itself settled in for 'quiet time'. The facility was well into the 'night' part of the Institute's day-and-night cycle by now.

"Busy day, huh?" L3-63 asked when K6-26 returned to the barracks. "It tends to get worse when some of us go missing."

Truth be told, K6-26 could hardly blame those which tried to escape. It kept such seditious thoughts to itself, though.

"Yep." K6-26 yawned and got its clothes ready. "I got some help earlier, though."

L3-63 chuckled. "B1 and P4, right? Yeah, they're lights-out now from running all over."

There wasn't much else to talk about, so K6-26 crossed the room and entered the bathroom.


K6-26's third day of existence was hardly any different from its first two. It woke up in the barracks, joined the rest for breakfast, and completed whatever tasks were assigned to it. It again received help from its roommates on occasion, this time with L3-63 assisting in Sublevel 21-D.

"Whoa, now!" L3-63 dashed to assist K6-26 in a partially-built maintenance room. "Let me help you with that."

K6-26 grabbed a heavy metal-crate from one of the shelves in the rectangular room. It shook its head to decline L3-63's help, and forced itself to carry the crate across the room.

"You're so stubborn," said an amused L3-63. It stood with its arms folded as K6-26 carried the crate into a cavernous construction-area past the doorway. "I'll be over here, if you need anything."

The machines carried on with today's construction work, as usual. The sublevel was now covering a vast area, with countless synths toiling away for the Institute's future. As usual, the machines were kept under close observation by several armed gen-2s and even the odd courser. It felt like a prison in ways, but at least it was better than suffering on the surface.

During K6-26's fourth day of existence, it decided to spend more time around the target range of Advanced Systems. It stalled its sweeping and mopping as much as possible, especially when Dr Orman was busy tinkering with laser weapons.

"If you want to test one of these," the workaholic doctor said, "just ask."

K6-26 smiled and entered the range.

"Oh no you don't!" said Dr Evan Watson, who was much older and no-nonsense than Dr Orman. He left a nearby office in a hurry and barged into the range. "Get this synth out of here!"

Dr Orman shrugged. "It's expressed a lot more interest in the range than many others recently. We might as well satisfy its curiosity."

"And get Dr Ayo riled up?" Dr Watson frowned even further. "Last thing we need is for SRB to think we're training up our own army. You know how paranoid they can be."

Although Dr Orman was willing to accommodate K6-26, she had no choice but to obey Dr Watson.

"It's fine," said K6-26, backing off. "I'd rather not cause trouble."

"Good." Dr Watson waved his hand dismissively. "I'd better not catch you trying your luck again, synth. Get back to work."

What a jerk.

But even though K6-26 had been barred from entering the range, that didn't stop it from observing Dr Orman through the window. K6-26 observed Dr Orman loading fusion cells, turning the safety off, and firing the rifle. K6-26 done so enough times to memorise the procedure.

"That's enough," said Dr Watson some time later. He approached K6-26 in the main area and asked for its clipboard. "I'll need to review your work orders."

It took a few minutes for Dr Watson to assess the clipboard. He tore out the front page and reassigned K6-26 to BioScience and Robotics, indefinitely.

"You might not like it," he told an annoyed K6-26, "but this is for the best. I've had enough of Ayo's strong-arming."

And so, K6-26 accepted its new work-orders (and indefinite banishment from Advanced Systems) and left the division.


When K6-26 told its roommates about its banishment later that night, the machines expressed their empathy for both parties.

"I know Watson's a jerk," said P4-84 from bed H-1 across the room, "but Ayo's much worse. He actually did you a favour."

P4-84's bunkmate, D5-13, agreed. It spoke while sitting on the top bunk H-2.

"Yeah, K6. You really don't want the SRB to put you on their radar. Unless you like having coursers follow you around and harassing you, of course."

B1-97 agreed. It spoke from bed E-1 at the end of K6-26's side of the room.

"Or worse, hauling you in for the smallest issue. Just keep your head down and work within acceptable parameters." B1-97 shuddered. "You really don't want to be reprogrammed."

L3-63 and others eventually returned to the barracks as well. They expressed similar views to P4-84 and the rest when told of K6-26's antics.

The next day was hardly any different for K6-26, apart from no longer having access to Advanced Systems. And so the minutes turned to hours yet again, and the hours to another day. Fortunately, K6-26 persevered as so many other synths were forced to do. It endured the slavery mostly out of self-preservation, as being wiped – or worse – was every synth's worst nightmare.

The sixth day of its existence, however, came with a shocking surprise. It occurred as K6-26 was busy mopping a long curved hallway between BioScience and Robotics.

"K6-26," said a short-haired female courser, "you have been selected for surface duty. Report to the teleporter at noon."

Wide-eyed, K6-26 spun around and felt an icy dread in its gut.

"Th - the surface?"

"Yes, the surface." The courser gave a disdainful snort. "That stutter better be fear and not a malfunction."

K6-26 quickly got back to its mopping. "Just fear. I heard the surface world is horrible."

The courser sneered. "It is. But you'll have other synths around you. Carry on."

Instead of turning around to use the dry floor, the courser strode off without a care in the world. K6-26 rushed to mop over the boot-prints going right down the hallway.

Oh, damn. I'm really going up there!