Author's Note: So here we are, the final chapter for Dead Money. It's been fun, but I have other things planned that I want to get to. This is going to be a long chapter, over 9,500 words. Not that I thought anyone would mind, but I just wanted to let you know. Enjoy, and reviews are always welcome.
"Uh, 'Mata, are ya okay?" Cass asked. Amata composed herself as best she could. "Yeah, um Cass, I'm fine. It was just, um, hearing that he was okay, and then losing him so quickly just overwhelmed me for a moment." "Amata," Arcade said, "would you like some water?" Amata nodded. "Please, Arcade, if you wouldn't mind." "Not a problem. Cass, would you join me?" Cass looked at him questioningly. "What? Why?" Arcade sensed that Abby would want to talk about Mark with Amata alone, but Cass wasn't getting the message, so he went over and whispered in her ear.
Her eyes widened in understanding. "Oh, oh, yeah, I could, uh, use some water too." Cass and Arcade left the room, leaving Amata alone with Abby. "So," Abby said after a few moments, "that was your husband?" "Yeah, sweetie, that was him." "Is he- is he going to be alright?" Amata sighed. "I believe he will be. He's no stranger to dangerous situations. It doesn't mean that I don't worry, though." Abby got up from her chair, and hobbled over to Amata without her crutches. She crawled into Amata's lap and hugged her. Amata returned the hug, taking a measure of comfort from the young girl's embrace.
While they were hugging, Arcade came back in and placed a bottle of water on the side table next to Amata, and then quickly and quietly left the room. After a minute or so, Abby pulled back and looked at Amata. "You two grew up together, right? That's what you told me, right?" Amata smiled. "Yeah, sweetie, we've known each other since we were babies. We had some good times as kids." "Could you, um, could you tell me about them? The good times, I mean?" "Sure, Abby, whatever you want." Abby adjusted herself in Amata's arms so she could get comfortable. "We grew up in a place on the other side of what used to be the United States, close to its capital city, to be more exact. We grew up in a place called Vault 101…"
(Sierra Madre)
Mark sat back in the chair. He thought that that might happen. The equipment was two hundred years old, and he had forced it to do something that it wasn't meant to. It was likely only meant to cast a wide-area emergency signal, so forcing it to search for and broadcast to one particular frequency likely shorted it out. He shrugged and got up. Nothing that he could do about it now. He made contact with Amata and let her know that he was okay. He took his reacquired gauss rifle and fired a shot into the servers. He then tossed a grenade into the room for good measure, and then closed the door. The room shook briefly, but he ignored it. He accomplished one of the things that he wanted to do before he left: render that equipment unusable.
He gathered his equipment, walked over to the electrical closet, flipped a few switches and restored power. As Mark started walking out of the closet and back towards the lobby, Elijah began to speak over the intercom again. "You woke it up…good." As Mark passed through the casino, he saw the regular lights on and holograms standing behind card tables, waiting to deal hands of cards to people who would never come. "Emitter frequencies…lighting up everywhere. Casino security is shutting down, opening up its vendor and gambling programs…still might be something for sale." Mark was now back in the lobby, waiting for Elijah to get to the point. "Now that the casino is paying attention to…us…it's time to deal with your friends."
"I couldn't see them before, but now…it looks like they've been moved to other floors. Interesting…perhaps the casino recognized specific guests, or those with a voice or look close enough to be assigned to that specific floor. I had hoped with the power restored, the systems would fully awaken, especially the sound archives…white noise filters embedded in their construction, blocking the casino's speakers, the music." At this point, Mark was sitting on the reception desk, still waiting for Elijah to get to his point. Although, Mark noted, he was right when he guessed about the radio interference.
"You'll need to recalibrate-or destroy- each collar. They're interfering with the systems. Reset the collar, or kill them. My preference, kill them. They're of no use to us anymore. The collars don't work inside the Sierra Madre, well, between floors, at least. If they did, I'd have set them all off, be done with it." Mark wondered if Veronica could hear her illustrious mentor saying that he wanted her to be killed. "If you kill the others, there should be some time to run before the explosives set off in both collars. The elevator to the vault is located in the executive suites. It's protected by a voice password…I can't override it. The man who built this place, Sinclair, he was obsessed with Vera Keyes, made her voice the key. Now go. The nightkin is in the Cantina Madrid, the ghoul is in the Tampico Theater, and Veronica and the mute are in the executive suites."
His voice cut out, and Mark hopped off of the desk. He checked his pip-boy to verify what Elijah had said. One signal on the first floor, one on the second, and two on the 43rd floor. "Well, might as well work from the bottom up." Mark hopped off of the desk and walked around, storing his bag underneath the counter until he could retrieve it later. He had his pistol holstered on his right hip, his assault rifle on his back, various grenades on his belt, and his trench knife strapped to his right leg. The entrance to the Cantina Madrid was on the far right side of the first floor. Mark opened the doors, finding a hostess stand, and just through another doorway behind that was perfectly clean and set circular tables, silverware, glasses and all, looking like they had just been set. The collar signal was coming from the kitchen, so he would have to head there to confront whichever personality was currently in control.
As Mark made his way through the restaurant, Mark realized something. There was supposedly a massacre here, so where were the skeletons of those who had died? Where were they? Had security moved them as well? Mark shook his head. The more he learned about this place, the more it creeped him out. As Mark got close to the metal door marked "Kitchen," he was able to hear two people arguing. He put his ear to the door, and he realized that the nightkin's two personalities were arguing with each other. Mark went to open the door, when he realized that he couldn't. It was a solid piece of metal, with no visible way to open it.
Elijah's voice came back over the speakers. "Damn. The idiot has smashed open all of the gas valves in the kitchen. A small spark- or he sets off his collar- and the whole casino burns. The door is hermetically sealed due to the gas leak. I can open it, but only this once. Deal with the idiot before he kills us all!" The door opened sideways, and then sealed behind him. Mark could hear Dog and God arguing much clearer:
…make casino burn…
…go back to the cage, listen to me…
…you make dog go in cage, wakes up hungry…
…wanted to protect you, always to protect you…
…want to die, not much longer now, pull chain…
The arguing continued, but Mark wasn't really paying attention anymore. He was lost in his own thoughts. He couldn't let Dog kill himself, or both of them, so he thought of possible ways to resolve this. He settled on one idea. It was risky, but he believed it to be his best option. He was in his full armor, so no one could see what he looked like, and his voice was muffled, so he wouldn't recognize his voice from earlier in the police station. Dog needed a master? Mark would give him one. Time to see how good his acting skills were. He walked into the open, where Dog/God could easily see him, projecting confidence.
"Dog! It is I, your master, Elijah! Listen to me now!" The nightkin's argument stopped. "Master? Is it really you?" "Yes, Dog, it is I, your master. I have a new order for you." The nightkin nodded eagerly, seemingly forgetting about wanting to kill himself. "Dog listens. What is it that you want Dog to do?" Mark paused for a moment when he realized that the nightkin was holding a regurgitated bomb collar in his right hand. Now he really hoped that this would work. "Dog, I am pleased with your work, so I believe that you deserve a rest. I need you to listen to that other voice inside of you. Go to sleep, and let the other voice come out."
Dog looked confused. "But, if the other voice comes out, Dog…Dog won't wake up." "Dog, I am your master. You wouldn't want to disappoint me now, would you?" Dog shook his head. "Dog listen to Master. Dog not disappoint master. Dog… Dog go to sleep now." His eyes shut, his body seemed to sway, and then he fell down face first. Mark let out a sigh of relief, and then located and subsequently turned off the three open gas valve in the room, and then used a computer in the room to activate the exhaust fans, clearing out the gas.
It was then that the nightkin stood up, using one of the stainless steel tables as a support. Mark approached him warily. "God?" "Yes, it is me," the articulate voice of God said. Mark let out a breath he didn't realize that he was holding, and then took off his helmet. "Good. I wasn't sure if that would work or not. So, is Dog asleep now?" "Yes, and thankfully, he won't wake up until I let him. That was a clever trick, using Dog's need for a master against him. You are much smarter than I gave you credit for." Mark shrugged. "Yeah, either that, or just plain lucky. I've been called both. So, are you alright?"
"I am fine. A bit hungry, but otherwise, I am okay. "Good to hear. Now, if you wouldn't mind handing over the bomb collar in your hand, I would greatly appreciate it. I need to either reset or disable it." God handed him the collar, and Mark examined it. He looked around the kitchen, and found a screwdriver. He unscrewed the latch on the thickest part of the collar, and examined the wiring. After talking to himself for a minute or so, he took his trench knife and cut a blue wire, and thankfully, the red light went out. Mark tossed it away and re –sheathed his knife. He left his own collar on for now. It wasn't that he didn't trust the nightkin, it was just that his fingers were a lot bigger, and one mistake would see his head taken off.
God had been watching him with interest, and when Mark noticed it, he explained. "I've disabled a nuclear warhead before. The principles the same, just on a bit smaller scale. So, what will you do now?" "For now…I rest. Then, I will make my way out into the world, find some of my own kind, maybe help others. The future is not yet written, and it is up to us to determine our own paths." Mark smiled. "You know, I knew a super mutant in DC just like you. His name's Fawkes. Loved to talk philosophy. I think you two would get along just fine."
"Perhaps I shall seek him out, then. But you, you need to deal with the old man. End him. He cannot be allowed to live." Mark patted the nightkin on the arm. "Trust me, we are in full agreement on that one. It's my friend that I need to convince." Mark paused. "Safe travels, my friend. Maybe our paths will cross again someday." The nightkin smiled. "I would like that. Safe travels to you as well, human."
Mark put his helmet back on and made his way back to the lobby. Elijah's voice came back over the speakers as he arrived back in the lobby. "Good, good…you've gotten one of the floors re-established. Only two more to go." His voice cut out after that. "That's right, Elijah," Mark said to himself, "one step closer to killing you, you crazy-ass bastard." Dean was in the Tampico Theater, the entrance to which was on the next floor. He walked up the stairs and entered the theater. The first room he came into was the box office, and past that was another set of double doors. Mark walked through them, and came to a hallway that extended out on either side of him. He looked to his right, where the longer portion of the hallway was. There were paintings adorning the walls, with velvet ropes in front of another set of double doors. At the end of the hallway, Mark saw another one of those vending machines that he had seen in the Villa.
To his left was a significantly shorter portion of the hallway, and he could see a light emanating from around the corner. He took the shorter route, going into the Tampico Theater. The theater had a high ceiling, a large stage taking up the center of the room, circular tables near the stage, and booths and bar in the back. On the red curtain behind the stage, in blue neon letters, was the name Dean Domino. 'Well,' Mark thought, 'now I know why security took him here. He was supposed to perform here the day the bombs fell.'
Taking stock of the room, Mark counted four shielded speakers: One on the near wall, one on the far wall, and two on the back wall. After a few minutes of trial and error, he found that he was able to stand safely in the center of the room, near the stage. There was a music stand with some sheet music in front of him. He picked up the sheet music to look at it, and when he did, something fell out of it onto the ground. It was a key. Mark picked it up and pocketed it. It was then that he heard a voice echoing off of the walls. "Well, well, well, look who showed up, and in some fancy new duds as well." Mark looked up and saw Dean Domino standing on a catwalk that came out from behind the stage.
"Felt the collar start kicking again as soon as you entered the theater. Think that you're going to upstage me, here at the Sierra Madre? I don't think so. Now that I'm inside…well, I guess that I don't need you anymore now, do I?" "So," Mark said, staring Dean down, "stabbing me in the back now, are you?" "You think that I'm the bad guy here? I'm not the one slapping bomb collars on people. Besides, I didn't stab you in the back. I was facing you the whole time. This little heist? I planned it centuries ago. You, the old man, the women, the brute? You're all just tourists, and tourists deserve a show. I'll just wait backstage and let security handle you." Mark smirked at him, not that Dean could see it.
"You seem awfully eager to kill someone whose life is tied to yours." Dean blanched for a moment, but regained his composure. "No, no, sure, the collars are active, but they feel different. I can still make it out while security fries you to a crisp. The treasure of the Sierra Madre is mine, and no one is going to stop me. You were all tools. Especially the girl with the scars." Mark thought about that for a moment. "Wait, so you put Christine in the auto-doc and took out her vocal chords? What possible purpose could that serve?" "Well, let's just say that Sinclair had a failsafe to get into the vault. The procedure should already be done by now. The Sierra Madre is mine, and no little shit stain in some fancy getup is going to take what rightfully belongs to me."
Mark chuckled. "Shit stain, huh? I'll admit, I've never been called that before. I've been called the "Lone Wanderer," "the Courier," and one of my personal favorites, "that crazy kid from Vault 101." They're all different names, Dean, but they all have one thing in common: they're pretty good at judging distances. You know what else, Dean?" "What?" "You talk too much." Faster than Dean could react, Mark pulled his 10 mm pistol and shot Dean square between the eyes, sending him backwards through the curtain. Mark's collar started beeping, so he turned and ran towards the doors. He ran through both sets of double doors and leaped over the railing and back into the lobby, which thankfully stopped the beeping.
Once he landed, he realized that he was not alone. There were two ghost people, one with a spear and one with a bear trap on its arm. Once they saw him, they began their attack. He fired a couple of shots from his pistol at the one with the bear trap on its arm, temporarily felling him. He dodged a spear that had been thrown at him, embedding itself in a pillar. He fired his pistol, but the clip was empty. He tossed the gun aside and reached for the knife on his leg. The creature came to swing at him, but Mark ducked out of the way and swept its legs out from under it. He then plunged the knife into its throat, and with one clean swipe, decapitated it. Mark looked over and saw the other creature beginning to get back up, so he ran over, put a foot on its chest, and decapitated that one as well.
Mark then got into a ready position, waiting for any more of them, but after a few moments he realized that he was alone again. 'How the fuck did they get in here?' Mark thought. He looked at the door, which was still sealed. 'Ok, it wasn't the door. Maybe…the air ducts? But if that was the case, wouldn't some have already been in here?' In the end, he decided that it didn't matter. The endgame was in sight.
It was then that Elijah's voice came back over the intercom. "Good. Two floors cleared. Almost have what I need from the music archives. Once the last floor is cleared, you can access the music archives at the front desk, and it should give you the sound file to unlock the elevator. Almost there." He cut out, and Mark looked at the terminal. He knew that there was something that he had forgotten to do. He looked on the computer. There was access to the music archives, but when Mark pressed it, it said that they were unavailable. There was an option to turn on security, but Mark didn't feel like dealing with the holograms any more than he had to, so he left that alone.
When he was done with that, he put a fresh clip in his pistol, made his way up to the elevator, and pressed the button to the 43rd floor. Once the elevator opened again, Mark stepped out into the hallway. The floor was carpeted, and there were traces of Cloud on the floor and on the walls. It was much dirtier than the rest of the casino. The speakers crackled, but this time it wasn't Elijah. "Mark, it's Veronica. I overrode the signal on the speaker ('Thank god,' Mark thought), for this floor, at least. Christine and I are okay. I know you're on the floor because your collar frequency is much stronger than it had been. You were right; these pip-boys are dead useful. Christine and I are in an old-world hotel suite. Very high class, two rooms. If they weren't so dirty, they'd rival the rooms at the 38."
She made a grunting noise. Mark got worried, but she spoke again. "Sorry, Mark, that was Christine. She thought I was getting off topic so she elbowed me. Uh, where was I? Oh, right. The exit's sealed, all doors locked down, and security holograms are active, so be careful. I'll try to shut them down from here, but I wouldn't hold out much hope for that option. Oh, and I'm pretty sure there's a gas leak somewhere. The smell's a dead giveaway, so when you're not busy, you might wanna take care of that, you know, before we get blown up and all that. I'm also pretty sure there's one of those concentrated pockets of the cloud somewhere on this floor, so, yeah, it's pretty much a shit show out there. There's probably a way to shut down security on the floor, so when you do that, come find us, and then we can talk some more. The room we're in has a set of double doors. See you soon, Mark."
Mark sighed in relief. At least they were okay. He grabbed his assault rifle off of his back and readied it. He walked down towards the end of the hallway, and he heard the faint sounds of a woman talking. It sounded like it was a ways away, but it was definitely there. Mark turned right and began to search out his way to where Christine and Veronica were. At first he came to a collapsed section of hallway, forcing him to turn around. He walked into a room that had a hole in the wall, and saw two skeletons lying on top of a perfectly made bed. Mark remembered what Elijah said about security moving people, so it was likely that these people died when security was activated, which would explain the lack of bodies downstairs.
About fifteen minutes later, after finding the gas leak and shutting it off, and listening to the hologram of Vera Keyes begging Sinclair to let her out, and apologizing for something that she did, Mark came upon the security office and deactivated security. A few minutes later, he found the double doors that Veronica had talked about, finding that they were wide open. Moments after Mark stepped through, he found himself in one of Veronica's patented vice-like hugs. "Mark, I'm so glad you're okay. When we got in the building and I didn't see you, I got worried." Mark patted her on the back and she let go. He then took off his helmet. "Well, as you can see, I'm fine." Mark took a look around the room. There was a nice sitting area with a few couches in front of him, and over to his right was a bar.
"Where's Christine?" Mark asked. "She's in the other room. Come on." They walked through a doorway on the left side of the room and walked into a bedroom. Christine had her back turned to them, reading on a terminal attached to an auto-doc that was to their left. There was a king-sized bed with red silk sheets and pillowcases in front of them, and to the right of that was a skeleton sitting in a chair, wearing a very elegant black and red dress with a flower on it. The lower half of the dress looked like it was only meant to cover one leg, leaving the other one exposed. Above her, on the wall, written in what looked like blood, were the words, "LET GO." "Veronica, is that-" "It's Vera Keyes." That wasn't Veronica's voice. It was the same voice that the holograms on this floor had spoken in.
Mark looked at Christine, who somehow was speaking like Vera Keyes. "According to…uhh…reports, (her voice sounded raspy, and she kept wincing, like she was still trying to get used to talking again) she was dying, and…uhh…using med-x to help dull the pain. We figure she took the easy way…uhh…out, instead of dealing with the security." Mark looked at her in amazement. "How are you speaking in a voice of a singer that's been dead for two hundred years?" Veronica answered. "Let me explain, Mark. When I woke up, Christine was in the auto-doc. I went to get her out, but there was an operation in progress. Apparently, they're some sort of…synthetic vocal chords imbued with Vera's voice, being held in some sort of stasis. I really can't explain it better than that, but, nonetheless, Christine can talk again."
Christine walked up to Mark and extended a hand for Mark to shake. "I'm sorry about earlier, Mark. I don't trust easily, but you've earned mine, and my respect as well." Mark shook her hand. "It's fine. I'm just glad we can communicate without having to resort to using hand gestures." "Yeah, me too." "So, Mark," Veronica interjected, "what happened with you after waking up?" Mark told them about finding their gear, Dog/God, Dean, the ghost people, pieces of what Elijah told him (excluding the part about Elijah wanting them all dead), and then coming up to the floor. "Well," Christine said, leading them behind the bar and through a false wall that led to the elevator, "at least the asshole that shoved me in the auto-doc in the clinic is dead. We found the elevator earlier, and like you said, it needs a voice key to open it. She fidgeted with the collar on her neck.
A light went off in Mark's head. "Oh, right, I figured out how to disarm the collars. Let me take care of that." They were both a bit nervous about Mark messing with their collars, but were both relieved when they were disarmed and removed. Mark instructed Veronica how to do his own. "Mark," Christine said, looking at Veronica nervously, "can I talk to you in private for a minute?" "Uh, sure, Christine." They went back in the bedroom and closed the door behind them. Christine got right to the point. "Mark, Elijah needs to die. What he's done here, it's nothing compared to what he's done elsewhere, and he cannot be allowed to walk away. I know Veronica thinks that she can save him, but he's too far gone. Sure, he was brilliant at one point, but there's a fine line between brilliant and crazy, and he crossed over a long time ago."
Mark rubbed his temple. He figured that he was going to get caught up in an argument like this. "Look, Christine, I agree, but Veronica wants a chance to talk him down, and as her friend I'm inclined to give her that chance." Christine opened her mouth to argue, but Mark put up a hand to stop her. "Look, I need to go back down to the lobby to get this damn password. Let me think about it, okay?" She reluctantly agreed, and after putting his helmet back on, went back to the elevator and back down into the lobby. He looked over the railing, and saw three ghost people walking relatively close together, and one just happened to be carrying a gas bomb. He sighed. 'I'm tired of dealing with you fuckers,' he thought.
Instead of trying to fight them all, Mark fired his pistol at the bomb, detonating it. Mark ducked down, feeling the residual heat from the blast. All that remained were chunks of ghost people. He made his way back to the computer and accessed the music archives. He downloaded the sound file to his pip-boy. He played it, just to hear what it was. It was Vera Keyes' voice, saying four words: "Let go. Begin again." After a quick stop to the security area to retrieve Veronica's power fist, Mark made his way back up to the suite. Christine and Veronica were arguing about what to do with Elijah, and it was starting to become heated.
Mark took off his helmet and let out a shrill whistle, shutting them both up. He gave Veronica her power fist. "Alright, enough, both of you. I have the code. The fact of the matter is, we don't need it. I only did it so he would think that I've gone down. Our collars are gone, so we could technically walk away and there's nothing that Elijah can do to stop us. However, we can't leave him here with this tech. That would be irresponsible. Christine, you want him dead, and Veronica, you want to talk him down." They both started to talk again, and Mark whistled again.
"Stop. I think I have an idea that will satisfy everyone. He's gotta come up here to get to the vault. So we ambush him. If he surrenders, we take him back to the Mojave to stand trial. If he resists, we kill him." "Mark," Veronica said, "what about the vault?" "Veronica, I don't give a shit about what's in the vault. Dean thought that it was treasure. Elijah thinks that it's blueprints for the tech here. The truth is, no one really knows. For all we know, it could be a trap. The risk isn't worth it. We either do it this way, or I blow his head off the second I see him, because I really want to kill him, but you're my friend, so I'm giving you this chance." Veronica closed her eyes and sighed. "Alright, fine, we'll do it your way."
Approximately ten minutes later, Elijah walked through the doors and found an assault rifle and a pistol pointed at either side of his head, courtesy of Mark and Christine, respectively. He looked more haggard in person, and he was wearing a belt with some pouches on it and some type of energy weapon that Mark was unfamiliar with. "Game's over, Elijah," Mark said. Veronica came out of the bedroom, a bit of a forlorn look on her face. "Ah, Veronica, long time, no see." "Hello Elijah," Veronica said, her voice seemingly devoid of emotion. "Ah, Christine. So, you finally caught me, did you? Took you long enough." Christine growled. "You've got a lot to answer for, Elijah," she said.
"Elijah," Veronica pleaded, "this madness, it needs to stop. Come back to the Mojave with us. I can ask for leniency at your trial." Elijah shook his head. "Tsk, tsk, tsk, Veronica. Your parents, they would be so very disappointed in you right now." A look of sadness came upon Veronica's face. Mark cursed internally. 'Bringing up her dead parents, you bastard. That's a low blow.' "Veronica," Mark said, "don't listen to him. He's trying to play on your emotions." "Oh, but I believe they would be. Your parents were two of the brightest people I've ever known. Very loyal to the Brotherhood. I've always known you to have a bit of an independent streak, but you were still loyal to the Brotherhood, to me. Did you know that they personally asked me to watch over you if anything happened to them?"
Veronica became weak in the knees. "They- they did?" "Yes, they did. They knew that I was the person to help the Brotherhood take control of these lands. They entrusted me with your care, which I gladly accepted. You were my protégé, the one I had chosen to continue my work when I was no longer of this earth, and I believe that you still can be. Yet you choose to cavort with…outsiders," he said, looking at Mark. "Tell them to lower their weapons, and we can make sure your parents dreams can become a reality."
Veronica had to sit down at this point. "Veronica," Mark said, looking at her, "I didn't know your parents, but any good parent would want their child to do what makes them happy. Yes, you are a Brotherhood Scribe, but that does not define you. You are Veronica Renata Santangelo. You are a strong, smart woman. An independent thinker. You like to punch things. You like to wear dresses because they make you feel pretty. You're also my friend, and the aunt to my future kid. You can't change what happened in the past, but the future is unwritten. Do not let anyone else dictate that future to you."
While this was going on, Elijah had surreptitiously drawn two syringes from one of the pouches on the back of his belt, and with the distraction, he injected one each into Mark's and Christine's exposed necks. Mark dropped his weapon, and he began to feel woozy. He fell to the ground, and the last thing that he saw before he passed out was Elijah's grinning face. Veronica looked on in shock as both Christine and Mark passed out. "Elijah, what did you do?" "It won't kill them, Veronica. It'll just knock them out for a little while. We need to talk."
A short time later, Mark awoke to himself and Christine leaning up against the bar, hands and legs bound with some kind of cloth. "Ah, good, you're awake." Elijah was him standing near the center of the room, while Veronica was sitting on the couch, a conflicted look on her face. "Veronica, why don't you tell them the good news?" They both looked at Veronica, who spoke without looking at either of them. "Guys, Elijah needs to get whatever's in the vault." Christine looked shocked, and all Mark could say was, "wait, what?" "Mark, he's going to help so many people with this tech, and Christine, we can be together again."
"Yes," Elijah said, revealing a pip-boy on his wrist, "So I'm going to need that password. I know you have the file, but I can't access it." Mark smirked at him. "I added some safeguards to my pip-boy, Elijah. It's under a voice lock. You're not the only one who knows how to manipulate machines, and there's no way in hell that you'll ever get me to unlock it." Elijah looked steamed. Mark looked at Veronica. "Veronica, I don't know what he's told you, but he's lying to you. He's trying to manipulate you by twisting your parent's memories to his own end."
"Mark's right, Veronica," Christine said. "He's playing with your mind. Don't let him. You're stronger than that." "Veronica," Elijah said, "When have I ever steered you wrong?" Veronica looked between Elijah, Mark, and Christine. "He- he's got a point there, Mark." "So, what, Veronica, you get Christine back, what about me?" "Work for me," Elijah said. "You are a very resourceful person. You could be my right-hand man."
Mark scoffed. "Sorry, but it'll be a cold day in hell before I work for you. Besides, I'm already working for one megalomaniac." Elijah picked up his weapon from the table. "Well, then I guess you're dead weight." He aimed the weapon at Mark. "Last chance. Work for me, or you die." They heard a cocking noise, and saw that Veronica had taken a pistol (his own pistol, which had been stripped from him, Mark realized) and aimed it at Elijah. Elijah turned around and aimed his weapon at her. "I can't let you kill him, Elijah. He's my friend." Mark realized that this was the perfect time to reveal Elijah's plan to her.
"Veronica, do you know what he told me when I talked with him, you know, when I left the police station earlier?" "SILENCE!" Elijah yelled. "No, Elijah," Veronica said, a look of determination now gracing her features, "let him speak. Go ahead Mark." "Veronica, he is the reason that you and Christine were separated. He knew about your relationship long before it came out into the open. He said that you were losing focus, so he had a ready-made excuse to separate the two of you." Christine became agitated, struggling against her bindings. "YOU FUCKING BASTARD! I'LL KILL YOU!" Veronica looked wide-eyed at Elijah. "Elijah, please tell me that what he said isn't true." He didn't answer, but his silence spoke volumes.
"You know what else, Veronica? He doesn't want to help people. He wants to recreate the Cloud to wipe out the NCR and Legion. He wants to use the collars to enslave people, the vending machines to force reliance on the Brotherhood. He is not who you think he is." "Why you insolent little-" Elijah wheeled around to fire at Mark, but before he could fire, another shot went off. Mark saw Elijah fall to the ground, his weapon falling away. Mark saw a bullet wound in the back of his head. Mark and Christine looked at Veronica, who looked to be in shock. The gun in her hands dropped to the ground. "I-I-I couldn't let him…he was going to shoot…you have Amata and the baby…" She then fell back onto the couch and started crying.
"Veronica?" Mark said with concern. Christine nudged his shoulder with her own. "Let her cry it out. I think that she needs it." About fifteen minutes later, after she had cried herself out and untied their bindings, Mark moved Elijah's body while Christine distracted Veronica. Mark moved the body near the elevator, and then closed the secret partition of the wall that led to it, a final "fuck you" to Elijah, basically saying that everything he wanted was so close, yet so far away. They were now drinking beers on the couches in the room, not really saying a word. After about five minutes, Mark broke the silence. "So…that just happened." "Yup," Christine said in response. Veronica was staring at the spot were Elijah's body had been, a small pool of blood resting in that spot.
"Veronica," Mark said, "it needed to be done." She was silent for a couple moments, and then said, "I-I know. It's just hard. He was like a grandfather to me. He taught me everything that I know. I thought that the Elijah that I knew was still in there somewhere, but when he turned around to shoot you, I just…reacted. You have a kid on the way, and when he threatened to kill you for not joining him, I began to realize that he wouldn't hesitate to tear your family apart to get what he wanted." Mark patted her on the arm. "I appreciate it, Veronica, and I know Amata would appreciate it." "Mark, were-were you serious about what you said before, about me being an aunt to your kid?" She looked hopeful.
"Of course I was serious. Family is what you make of it, Veronica, and I've got the feeling we're gonna be in it for the long haul. The guys back at the 38, we may not be blood, and it may be a weird dynamic, but they're slowly starting to become family. Well, I guess Amata's already technically part of my family, being my wife and all. Besides, who else is gonna teach my kid to punch things? That's definitely an "Auntie Veronica" lesson." Veronica smiled. "Thanks, Mark. It means a lot to me to hear you say that." "Anytime, Veronica. Now, uh, how about we get our stuff and get the hell out of here? I am eager to put as much distance between myself and this place as possible."
Veronica put her beer on the table and stood up, as did Mark. "Yeah, you're right. I miss seeing the sun and breathing fresh air." Mark looked at Christine. "Christine, we have plenty of room at the 38, so once we get back to the Mojave, you're more than welcome to stay with us." Christine was staring at her beer like it was the most interesting thing in the world. "I'm not going back." Mark and Veronica stared at her for a few seconds, and then Mark broke out in laughter. "Oh, okay, you got us. That's a good one. Come on stop playing around and let's go." The look on Christine's face made it clear that she was not joking. "Oh, you're actually serious. So why, exactly, do you plan on staying here?" "Yeah," queried Veronica, "I'd kinda like an answer to that as well."
Christine leaned back on the couch. "Veronica would know this, but I doubt that you would, Mark. The Brotherhood was created after the Great War to collect, preserve, and protect technology so that nothing like the war would ever happen again. We stopped Elijah, but who's to say that someone else doesn't stumble upon this place? Someone needs to be here to protect it. It's my duty as a member of the Brotherhood." Mark looked at Veronica to see her reaction, but she kept her face straight. He turned back to Christine. "Ok, first of all, I did know that, and I'm a bit insulted that you would automatically assume that I wouldn't know that. Second of all, you're insane. Elijah probably followed the signal here, but I blew up the machine that sent it out. The chances of anyone finding this place by accident are slim, and anyone with the knowledge to recreate this tech finding this place is even slimmer." 'Not to mention that I plan to blow this place to kingdom come once certain things get fixed,' he thought to himself.
"It doesn't matter the odds, Mark. They still exist, and as long as this place stands, it's too big of a risk to take." Mark went to respond, but Veronica cut in, a mix of anger and sadness in her voice. "So that's it, huh? We finally have a chance to be together again, and you're just going to throw it away? Do I mean nothing to you?" "Veronica," Christine responded, "you mean a lot to me. Being part of the Brotherhood also means a lot to me, and I can't just shirk my duties. We both took an oath the day we were officially inducted. That oath still means something to me." "So that's your decision? You'd rather guard some tech in a casino in the middle of nowhere than have a chance at happiness with me?" Christine didn't respond. "Christine, god damn answer me!" "Yes," Christine said, although you could barely hear her.
Tears began to fall down Veronica's face. "I don't even know who the hell you are anymore. I should've realized it when you let him leave the police station by himself. The Christine that I knew would've never let a teammate go into a hostile environment alone. This is just another reason why the Brotherhood is failing. Duty above all else, even friends and family. Well, I'm done. They can rot away for all I care. As of right now I QUIT the Brotherhood! I hereby rescind my oath, and I reject all that they stand for!" She then ran out of the room, sobbing into her hands.
"Veronica-" Mark called out, but to no avail. Both Mark and Christine stared out of the door. "Well," Christine said about a minute later, "that could've gone better." Mark raised an eyebrow at her. "Gee, you think?" "Look, Mark, you seem like a nice guy, but you wouldn't understand." "Yeah, see, there you go assuming things about me again. You think that I don't know about duty? Trust me, I know about duty, about loyalty. The thing is, if my wife was in danger, and I had to choose between loyalty to a cause, and keeping her safe, she would win out every single time." He pulled a chain off from around his neck, the chain that held his Brotherhood holotags, and put them on the table. Christine looked at them in disbelief. "Are those-" "Yes, they are. Paladin Mark Franklin at your service. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go find Veronica."
Mark eventually found Veronica sitting in the locker room attached to the security office. She was sitting on a bench, staring at the ground. Mark leaned against the doorway. "So…I guess you won't be going back to rip McNamara a new one." She gave a teary chuckle. "No, I guess not. I'm never going down there again. You were down there. Most of them just barely tolerate my presence as it is. I'm basically a pariah. Although I may go back one more time just to punch Watkins in her stupid, overly made-up face." Mark laughed. 'Yeah, I got the feeling that you two never really got along."
He sat down next to her and put a hand on her leg. "Are you alright, Veronica?" She blew her nose on a towel. "Yes…no…I don't know. Mark, I-I don't get it. We finally have a chance to have a relationship out in the open, and she just rejects that outright? Help me out, because I feel like I'm missing something." Mark thought for a few moments. "Do I agree with her? Hell no. I think that she's insane, but I'm just gonna play devil's advocate for a minute. Some people, they take their sense of duty to the extreme. While I may not agree with it, and while you strongly don't agree with it, it's her decision to make. If she's truly firm in her decision, then there's nothing that you or I can say that would change her mind."
"If she chooses to stay and give up another chance at a relationship with you, then it's her loss. You are a smart and beautiful woman, Veronica. I have no doubt that you would be able to find someone else to be in a relationship with." She sniffed a couple of times and looked at him. "You really think so?" "Oh, absolutely. Hell, if you were into guys and I wasn't in a relationship, I'd totally be trying to get into your pants." She laughed. "Oh, aren't you the sweet talker. If that's the way you talk to girls, then it's no wonder that Amata fell for you." Mark puffed out his chest. "Yep. It's that old Franklin charm. Makes us irresistible to women. Well, most women." "Don't hurt your shoulder trying to pat yourself on the back, Casanova." They both laughed, and then there was silence for a minute or so. "Thanks Mark. I don't know what I did to deserve friends like you and Amata. You guys feel more like family than the Brotherhood ever did."
"Think nothing of it, Veronica." "I'm serious, Mark. You let me travel with you after talking to me at the 188 for all of five minutes. You trusted me to watch over the woman who's pregnant with your kid. For all you knew, I could've been some psychopath who was waiting for the right time to rob you blind. Most people don't trust that easily." "Yeah, well," Mark said, "that may be a bit left over from the vault. You can take the boy out of the vault, but you can't take the vault out of the boy, I suppose. Besides, if I had any doubts about you, I wouldn't have invited you. I like to think that I'm pretty good at reading people."
Veronica sighed. "Well, I think that I need to talk with Christine." She made to get up, but Mark put a hand on her shoulder. "Let me talk to her first." "Why? Do you think you can get her to change her mind?" "Maybe, maybe not. At the very least, I'll give her something to think about while she spends the rest of her life in this hellhole. Give me, say, ten minutes, and then come find us." She nodded. "Thanks, Mark." Mark stood up and made his way towards the door. "You're welcome…Auntie Veronica." As Veronica was left in the room by herself, she began to feel something she hadn't felt in a long time: hope for the future.
Mark made his way back to the suite, finding Christine sitting on one of the couches. She looked up when he entered. "She's not happy with me, is she?" "No, not at all, but I believe that she knows where you're coming from. She wanted to come talk to you, but I convinced her to let me talk to you first." "You're not going to change my mind, Mark," she said outright. "I didn't say that I was going to try to. You're an adult, and it's your decision to make. I just want to tell you a story that I heard once." Before she could object, Mark plopped down next to her and began talking.
"Our tale begins in a vault on the east coast of what was once the United States. Two children were born, one boy and one girl. Now, the boy and girl became friends before they could walk or talk. Nobody could really explain why, not even their fathers. What of their mothers, you ask? Well, the boy's mother died minutes after giving birth, so she was never really in the picture. The girl's mother died shortly after the girl turned two, so they were both raised by their fathers. The boy and the girl, they did everything together. Playing, doing homework, even just doing nothing. You would have thought that they were attached at the hip."
"The boy's father, who was the doctor, and the girl's father, who was the overseer, they never really got along. The children noticed it, but were never really told why. Once the girl hit puberty, her father had guards with her at all times, because he didn't want the boy and girl to be together. Throughout their teens, romantic feelings developed, but they were never really allowed to progress."
"As for the vault itself, all of the residents were told that the vault had never been opened since the bombs fell, that they were all descendants of the original vault dwellers, which, for most of them, was true. "We're born in the vault, we die in the vault," was what they were told. Well, one day, when the boy and girl were both nineteen, the girl woke the boy up from a nap to tell him that his father had escaped from the vault, and that he had to leave, too, because she feared for his safety, fearing what her father would do to him. So, with the aid of the girl, the boy escapes, and in the process, learns that everything that they had been told was a lie. The vault had been open multiple times, and, despite what they were always told, the wastes were actually habitable."
"The boy asks the girl to come with him, but she declined, saying she had to stay behind because she was the only one who could get through to her father. The boy accepts that, leaving the girl to deal with what was essentially a ticking time bomb. Before he leaves, the girl makes him promise that he would return one day. He promises, saying that he would be back, because he always keeps his promises. Once out in the wasteland, among other things, he learns that he was not born in the vault, but in the basement of the Jefferson Memorial. You see, it turns out that his mother and father were working on a project to purify the water in the DC Tidal Basin, which would allow them to distribute water to the wastes. The science behind the project was solid, but they could never get it to work on the scale that they needed."
"It was then that the boy's mother had given birth to him, and then passed away. With his son the only family he had left, and with the project basically at a standstill, he takes his son and abandons the project, sacrificing the future of the wastes for that of his only son. He takes his son to the vault, asking for sanctuary. It is granted, albeit under certain conditions which the father could not refuse. As it turns out, the father used the vault's water systems to continue his work, trying to figure out what went wrong. When he finally realized what he needed, his son had turned nineteen, and so decides that his son can take care of himself, and leaves to find what he needed."
"The boy finds his father, and along with some of the original scientists, they restarted the project. Before it can really get going, the father was forced to kill himself by a group of people who want to use the clean water the project would produce to control the wasteland. The father nearly sabotaged the project, giving his son a chance to flee to safety, which he did. The group took control of the facility, getting it back to working order, but they are unable to get it operational, without the missing piece. The boy, with help, found out what his dad was looking for, and retrieved the missing piece, but it is stolen from him by the people who currently controlled the facility."
"The father was smart, however. The machine could only be started by a code that only he knew. As it turns out, the code was the number of the mother's favorite Bible verse, one which the father had repeated over the years to his son, which had to do with giving water to those who were thirsty. With the help of a couple of groups he befriended in the wasteland, they take the purifier back. They get it running, but complications with starting the machine nearly cost the boy his life."
"A few weeks later, the boy gets a gets a distress call from the girl, saying that the situation in the vault has become toxic, and without the boy's intervention, they wouldn't survive. Two groups had formed. The "rebels," as they had been dubbed, led by the girl, and made up mostly of their classmates, wanted to open the vault to the world. The other group, made up mostly of the adults, led by the overseer, wanted to keep them isolated. So the boy goes back, talks with her father, and gets him to agree to step down, naming his daughter as his successor. The boy was shocked when the girl told him he had to leave, citing people still blaming him and his father for what happened down there. The boy and the girl argue, and the boy leaves, telling her any relationship they may have had was over." Christine interrupted him. "Mark, this is interesting and all, but is there a point to all of this?" "Hang on, I'm almost there."
"Now, a few days after this occurred, the boy realized that he had been stupid, that the girl didn't want him out of her life forever, just for a little while, just until things could get back under control, until they were ready to leave the vault. The boy thought that he had burned that bridge, and felt that going back to apologize would be fruitless. The girl, however, finally realized how the boy felt when he was exiled from the place that he had called home for most of his life. So she leaves the vault to its fate, leaving to find the one person that she realized that she couldn't live without."
"The girl catches the boy as he was about to leave the area for good. They are able to reconcile, and they then aimed to start a new life together elsewhere, away from the madness that had become a part of their daily routines." Mark paused and took a breath. "Christine, like I said before, I won't tell you what to do. Fate has given you and Veronica a second chance to be together, just like it did for the boy and girl. Whether you seize that opportunity or not is up to you. The thing is, you can't hug duty when you're feeling depressed, and loyalty won't keep you warm in bed at night." "Was- was that story true?" Mark shrugged. "Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. I don't know. Like I said, it's just a story I heard." Mark saw Veronica walk in the doorway, and he got up off the couch. "You two need to talk. Whatever your decision ends up being, I'll be waiting back down in the lobby." Mark grabbed his weapons, his helmet, and his holotags, and then headed towards the elevator, leaving Christine and Veronica alone.
(20 minutes later)
Mark was sitting on the reception desk, all packed and ready to leave. Thankfully, there hadn't been any ghost people in the lobby when he had come down. He heard the elevator ding, and looked up. He saw Veronica and Christine walking down the stairs, holding hands and smiling. "So," Mark asked, "what's the decision?" Veronica looked at Christine, and then spoke. "Let's go home, Mark. All of us." Mark smiled and nodded. "Okay, then." A short while later, Christine and Veronica were ready to leave.
Veronica decided to leave her brown robe behind, saying that it was part of her past, not her future. She also smashed her holotags, once and for all severing her allegiance to the Brotherhood. She had grabbed some armor from the security office, and the black and red dress from the suite (she said it wasn't the one that was on Vera's skeleton- there was another one in her wardrobe), and put that and some provisions in a satchel bag she had found in the suite. Christine, who was still wearing the composite armor from earlier, had taken Elijah's weapon.
They made their way down to fountain in the courtyard, when Veronica asked, "Mark, how exactly are we going to find our way back?" Mark tapped his pip-boy. "I told you, these things are very handy. My pip-boy mapped the route that took us here, so we just need to follow it in reverse. It'll take us about five days if we maximize our walking time." "Alright then," Christine said, "what're we waiting for?" The trio left the Sierra Madre behind, having no trouble letting go of something they never wanted in the first place.
Hope you enjoyed the chapter. Thus ends the Sierra Madre portion of the story. In the next chapter, they make their return, and we see Mark's reaction to Abby. Until next time.