Hello everyone! Yes, I am still alive. I know, it's been about eight months since I last posted. All I can offer as an explanation is that life got in the way. This chapter will be the final one for the main story of Old World Blues. There is a small part in here that people might not like, and I will explain fully at the end of the chapter as to why I made the decision I did. Enjoy, and reviews are welcomed and appreciated.
Mark had the mask retract into the suit. "Mark, seriously, what the hell is that?" Veronica asked as she walked around him and examined it. Skye then barked, alerting Veronica to her presence once again. "And what's up with the dog? Where'd you get him?" "Well, the dog's a she, just so you know. Her name is Skye, and I sort of created her using gene-splicing over in X-8. Skye, this is Veronica. She's a friend of ours."
Veronica crouched down to get on Skye's eye level. "Hey there, Skye. You, uh, you startled me earlier, and I hope that I didn't scare you. Friends?" Veronica asked sincerely. Skye came a bit closer, sniffed her a couple times, and then licked her face. "I'll take that as a yes, then. Mark, she's adorable. Is she going to be heading back with us?"
"That's the plan. Both Abby and Amata want a dog, so here's the perfect opportunity to give them one. Not to mention it's gonna score me a whole lot of husband slash dad points. Speaking of my ladies, how are they doing?" She stood back up. "Well, they're fine. Worried, obviously, but otherwise fine. Oh, and we apparently have another new houseguest." Mark looked curious. "Did Amata adopt another kid?"
"And what if she did? Would that be a bad thing?" Veronica asked, raising an eyebrow. Mark backtracked. "No, no, no, I didn't mean it in a bad way, I just-" He was cut off as Veronica started giggling. "I'm just kidding, Mark. I know what you meant. No, don't worry, illustrious Captain of mine, it's not another kid. It's actually that NCR soldier that you helped out, uh, Christina Morales."
"Private Morales?" Mark said, sounding confused. "Why is she there, now?" Veronica shrugged. "Well, it's apparently "former Private" Morales now. She apparently deserted the army and defected from the NCR completely. Amata wouldn't get into specifics, saying that she needed to talk you about things first, but I'm guessing that whatever caused her desertion, or defection, or whatever, it had to do with you." Mark nodded. 'Well, that's bound to be an interesting story,' he thought.
"Uh, Veronica," John said, "did you, did you happen to get that picture of Rosie that I asked for?" Veronica looked guilty. "Oh, um, no, sorry John. I think seeing your picture freaked her out a little, or a lot, because she barricaded herself in her room before I could get it. Again, I'm really sorry." John sighed. "No, it's okay. I figured that that might happen. If it were me, I probably would've freaked out too."
After a few moments of awkward silence, Mark spoke up. "Ok, well, why don't we tell you what happened since you left." "Yes, please," Veronica said. "I want to know all about that suit, mister." They went in the kitchen, sat down and explained what had happened since Veronica had left. She was also introduced to MARI, who explained all the suit's functions.
"Wow, you just have a knack for finding stupidly powerful weapons, don't you?" she said after MARI finished. Mark shrugged. "Eh, I guess I'm just lucky." "Yeah, lucky is one word for it, I guess. Although, how do the rockets in the shoulders get replaced?" she asked. Mark was stumped on that one. Thankfully, MARI answered. "Allow me, sir," she said. "I have a remote link to the Sink Central Intelligence Unit. A piece of programming code was uploaded upon my activation, which contains the schematics for the rockets. This allows for constant replenishment of the rockets."
"Thank you, MARI, that will be very helpful," Mark said. "You're welcome, sir," the AI replied. "Alright, moving on. Veronica, what happened back on the homefront?" "Well, after I got back to the 38, I met Christine, uh, I mean Christina, and then Amata had her go somewhere else so the rest of us could have a meeting. I told everyone what happened and gave Cass John's picture."
"After that I got something to eat, got your gauss rifle from Amata, and then came back here. Oh, and Amata wrote a note for you." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, and then handed to Mark. He opened it and read:
Mark,
When you get back, you and I are going to have a long talk about a few things, including you not listening to me when I say that I have a bad feeling about something. You are so damn lucky that I love you, because there is no other woman on this planet who could deal with everything that you go through.
Ok, I got that off my chest. Mark, Veronica explained everything, so I know that you're stuck there for now. Elliott's monitoring you from the ship and keeping me updated. Just do what you need to do and come home. Please do not take any unnecessary risks. I need you back here safe and sound, preferably with all original parts. You have Veronica, as well as Cass' dad, with you, so don't be stupid. Let them help you. Above all, please stay safe.
All of our love,
Amata and Abby
P.S. Cass probably isn't in any condition to handle the negotiations between the Kings and NCR, so I will take care of them.
Mark sighed and folded the letter back up. There was silence for a few moments before Veronica spoke. "Ok, so what's the plan?" she asked. "Well," Mark said, "I'm dead tired, and it's late. So I think we just rest for tonight. Tomorrow morning I'll go talk to Klein, and then go to the Forbidden Zone, get my brain back, get it back in my body, and then figure out a way home. Sound good?"
"Fine by me, kid. I'm pretty beat as well," John said, letting out a yawn. "Yeah, that's fine, Mark," Veronica said. It was eventually decided that Veronica would take the bed (because she was a lady, and Mark and John were gentlemen, was her reasoning), John would be on the couch in the sitting room, and Mark would sleep on the couch in the same room where his organs were stored. After he closed the door, he laid down on the couch, with Skye sleeping on the floor next to him. He turned and stared at his heart and spine. As he did, his thoughts drifted to Amata and Abby, wishing he were back with them. Those were his last thoughts before he fell asleep.
(Next morning)
Mark felt his face being licked, so he opened his eyes to see Skye, who barked happily once she saw he was awake. "Morning, girl," he said as he got up and stretched. He looked at the time, seeing that it was quarter past nine. "Damn, I must've been tired. Well, let's go see what John and Veronica are up to." Mark opened the door, and the first thing that he saw was Veronica staring down the suit.
"I will not say it again," MARI said, agitated. "Step away from me with the screwdriver, or I will be forced to resort to defensive action." "Look," Veronica said, pointing a screwdriver at the suit, "all I want is to take a small piece off you so I can get a better look at the suit's composition under a microscope."
"Alright, what's going on here?" Mark asked from the doorway as he rubbed his eyes. "Sir, would you please tell your friend to stop trying to take me apart?" "Mark, all I want to do is examine one tiny little piece closely. By the suit's own words, it can still function even if a piece is missing." "Yes," MARI countered, "but taking even a small piece would compromise the structure in that area. I am not indestructible, you know."
Mark stared at the two of them. "Ok. Veronica, please don't take any pieces from the suit. It's currently undamaged, and I'd like to see it stay that way for as long as possible. MARI, please do not threaten my friends. I'm sure that there's an acceptable compromise here." He thought for a moment. "Wallace, are there any, like, super-high magnification magnifying glasses in that database of yours?"
"There are indeed, sir," he responded. "Very good. Veronica, use that. MARI, let her examine you. Got it?" "Fine/yes sir" answered Veronica and MARI at the same time. "Good, now, I'm gonna go use the bathroom, so excuse me." A short while later, after he had used the bathroom, cleaned up, eaten, and said good morning to John, it was close to ten o'clock, so he decided to head up to speak to Klein.
"You want one of us to head up with you, kid? You might not be able to fight up there, but we sure as hell can," John said to him. Mark shook his head. "I appreciate it, but no. They need me to do their work for them, so they're not going to hurt me. Besides, from the way they've been talking over the intercoms, they think that I'm alone here. I'd like to use the rest of you as a surprise later in case I need it. That's why I'm not wearing the suit, either."
"Yeah, I guess that makes sense," Veronica said, "but that doesn't mean that I like it." Skye whined and rubbed up against Mark's leg. He reached down to pet her. "Don't worry, girl. I'll be okay," Mark said. He then headed up into the Think Tank Dome.
(40 minutes later)
Mark emerged back into the Sink to find a pacing Veronica. As he stepped back in, Skye ran up and jumped on him, trying to lick his face. Mark laughed. 'Whoa, down girl. I'm happy to see you, too." Once Skye calmed down, Veronica rounded on him. "What the hell took so long? You were only supposed to talk to this Klein guy to figure out what we're supposed to do next! I was starting to get worried! I was about ready to storm up there myself before John stopped me."
"It's true. She was ready to barrel up there," John said, emerging from the sitting room. Mark held out his hands in a placating manner. "Sorry that I worried you, Veronica. I just got caught up speaking with the other doctors." "About what?" she asked. "Their work, mainly, although they did also have some personal problems that I helped them out with. In any event, the door to the Forbidden Zone is now open, so we can go and get my brain back."
A few minutes later, everyone was suited up and ready to go. "Alright, let's get this done. Faster we finish, the faster I can see Rosie again," John said. Skye bounded up to Mark. He leaned down and petted her. "Skye, I'm going to need you to stay here and hold down the fort, ok?" Skye whined.
"Sorry girl, but I don't want you to get hurt. We don't know what kind of dangers Mobius has waiting for us. If it's any consolation, you can keep chasing Muggy around if you want." Skye barked happily, while a tiny scream was heard elsewhere in the apartment. With that, the trio headed out.
(One hour later, Lucky 38)
Amata was on the casino floor, preparing for the negotiations between the Kings and the NCR. Boone was helping her, as she needed a bunch of tables and chairs moved. He would also be acting as her personal security guard. They were setting up the tables in the sunken-in part of the casino. Six of the small square tables were combined to make one large table, with three chairs on each side (one side for the Kings, one for the NCR) and one chair at the head (for her). The overhead lights had been turned on for the first time in who knows how long.
On the table were some pens, a folder with some notes she had made on what she thought needed to be addressed, as well as a couple of notebooks so she could take notes during the meeting, as well as writing up a draft of the (hopefully) eventual agreement. To look a bit more professional, she was wearing black flats, black dress pants, a black belt, and a white blouse. Her hair was done up in its usual ponytail.
Checking her pip-boy, she saw that it was 11:45 AM, so the two sides would likely be there any minute now. She had taken an early lunch, and before she came down, she instructed Abby to behave for Christina, who would be watching her while Amata was busy with the negotiations. Abby was also told that she was not to come down unless it was an absolute emergency.
Cass had yet to come out of her room, the only indication that she was alive was that the food that Amata had left outside her door was missing. Since Cass was obviously in no shape to lead these negotiations, it would be up to her to lead them. It would be nice to see if everything that she had learned over the years would work out in the real world.
She had checked in with Elliott earlier that morning to get an update on Mark and the others. From what they could tell from the live feed, Mark had acquired some type of metal suit that could shoot rockets and lasers, as well as fly. That had made her slightly more relieved, that he had found something else to keep him safe.
Veronica hadn't mentioned the suit the previous evening, so he must have found it between when she left and went back. Despite her worry, she was curious as to what other technology could possibly be in that crater, aside from what Veronica had already told them about. She was broken out of her thoughts when her pip-boy beeped.
Looking down, she saw Yes Man's face. "Ma'am, the representatives from both the Kings and the NCR have arrived. Shall I let them in?" 'Showtime,' she thought. She looked over at Boone. "You ready, Craig?" she asked. He nodded. "Let them in, Yes Man," she stated. She stood up from her chair as the doors opened. Three members of each side walked in, staying as far away from each other as they possibly could.
As they looked around in wonder, Amata quickly examined every one of them. On the NCR side, she recognized Major Elizabeth Kieran, but that was it. One man, who appeared to be the leader, looked to be of Asian descent. That was probably Colonel Hsu. The other man in the group was Caucasian, with short black hair. On the Kings side, the King was there, obviously, wearing his usual getup. Of the other two he had with them, one had olive-colored skin and medium-length brown hair, while the other was Caucasian with wavy black hair and a mustache. Both of them were wearing white t-shirts and jeans.
She cleared her throat to get their attention. "Hello everyone, and welcome to the Lucky 38. Glad you could all make it." The King approached Amata with a smile on his face. "Amata, my dear, it's a pleasure to see you again. I hope that you're well?" "Very well, King, and you?" Amata replied. "I'm fine, thank you. Thanks again for that music and the info that you sent over. Finally nice to put a name to the face." "You're welcome, King."
She then looked over at the NCR contingent. "Major Kieran, nice to see you again." Major Kieran nodded. "Amata," was all she said. Amata then addressed the entire group. "Ok, the first order of business, as indicated in the notices that you received, is to surrender all your weapons. Kings, please put your weapons on the desk to my left, and NCR, on the desk to my right." There was a Securitron near each desk to ensure that no one would go at their weapons during the meeting. "My friend here, who is my security guard, will also be patting you down to make sure you aren't concealing anything."
"Um, excuse me," the man whom she believed was Colonel Hsu said, "but is that really necessary?" "You are Colonel James Hsu, correct?" Amata asked. "Yes, I am," he responded. "Well, Colonel, you were given a notice of conditions, and since you are here, you obviously agreed to them. But to answer your question, yes, it is necessary. These negotiations could become heated, and having weapons in the hands of people with rising tempers probably isn't the best idea. Wouldn't you agree?"
"Well, I guess so, but that doesn't explain why you or Mr. Boone over there have sidearms. Also, I was under the impression that Mr. Franklin would be leading these negotiations," he said. "Well, to address your first point, Colonel, we have sidearms because, as the old saying goes, "my house, my rules." Not really my house, but you get the picture. As to your second point, Mark had urgent business that required his presence elsewhere, so he specifically requested that I fill in. I assure you that I am more than qualified to lead these negotiations."
The Colonel looked her over. "Who are you in relation to Mr. Franklin, anyway? Another one of his friends?" The King snorted. Amata chuckled. "Oh, did I forget to introduce myself? How silly of me, I'm being a terrible hostess. For those of you that aren't aware, which is four of you, I am Amata Franklin, Mark's wife, and former Overseer of Vault 101." The Colonel looked surprised. "I was not aware that he was married," Colonel Hsu said.
Amata shrugged. "Well, I'm sure that there are a lot of things that you aren't aware of. Now, if you wouldn't mind, your weapons, please." Everyone did eventually surrender their weapons, and Boone confirmed that everyone was indeed clean. Once Boone was done, he nodded to Amata. "Wonderful. Now, please have a seat so we can begin." Everyone went to sit down, except for the Colonel, who approached Amata.
"Mrs. Franklin, I do need to ask you one more question, one of a sensitive nature." Amata looked curiously at the Colonel, then back at the others. "Very well. Everyone, Colonel Hsu and I will just be a moment. Craig, stay here." She led him in a back room that was behind the bar. "What can I do for you, Colonel?" Amata asked. "Mrs. Franklin, we recently had a soldier that went AWOL," he said. Amata stared at him, face impassive. "Ok, and what does a soldier going AWOL have to do with me? Sounds more like an internal matter for the NCR."
"Normally, yes, but the soldier in question is Private Christina Morales. Your husband recently aided her by retrieving her husband's body. It was observed that Private Morales and your husband became friendly with one another, so it stands to reason that she might seek him out again for help. Have you seen her? She's wanted for questioning." Internally, Amata smirked. 'Yeah, she's right upstairs babysitting my daughter. Apparently, the Embassy hasn't sent word about Christina's defection yet. Oh well, not my problem.'
"I'm sorry Colonel, but I have not met anyone by that name. My husband did mention her, but that was it, so I'm afraid that I can't help you." The Colonel was silent for a couple moments. "Very well. If you do see her, please contact the NCR Embassy. As I stated earlier, she's wanted for questioning." "Of course, Colonel. Now, if there's nothing else?" she asked. He shook his head, so they both went back out to the table and sat down.
"Ok, so once again, welcome to the Lucky 38. We are here today to negotiate an agreement between the Kings and the NCR regarding the defense of Freeside, as well as distribution of food and water to the area. Before we begin, let's all introduce ourselves, so we know who we're dealing with." They did, and Amata learned that the olive-skinned King was named Antonio and was the King's new right-hand man. The other man was named Rick. The NCR soldier that Amata didn't know was Sergeant James Barnes.
"Ok, so now we can begin," Amata said. She checked her notes, and then looked at the Colonel. "Colonel, would you like to make an opening statement?" "Uh, sure. While some of my colleagues believe that the only way to deal with Freeside is to send an invasion force to quickly pacify it, I am not of that same mindset. I believe that doing that would only lead to more problems in the long run. There has been too much loss of life already, and I hope that these negotiations will help minimize, if not outright fully prevent more deaths in Freeside in the future. Thank you."
"Very well-spoken, Colonel," Amata said. "King?" The King cleared his throat. "I appreciate your words, Colonel. I agree that the loss of life has been tragic, and that something needs to be done before things get out of hand. I do want order in Freeside, but that order must not come at the cost of a loss of people's personal freedoms. I simply will not tolerate that, as it goes against everything being a King means. Hopefully today, we can find a happy medium between order and freedom. That's all I got."
"Thank you, both of you," Amata said. "So moving on to our next point-" She was interrupted when the elevator door opened. She looked behind her, and was surprised to see Cass come out, looking normal. Amata jumped out of her chair and raced over to Cass, giving her a hug. "Cass, are you okay?" she asked quietly. "I'm fine, 'Mata. Seems that ya started tha party without me, though."
Amata looked over her shoulder at the others. "Sorry, excuse me again, everyone. This will just take a minute." She dragged Cass into the same back room as earlier. "Cass, look, I can handle this," Amata said. "'Mata, I know yer worried 'bout me after last night, but I'm fine. I realized that I can't do anything 'bout it 'til I actually speak with ma dad. Christina an' Abby told me what was goin' on, so I thought that I'd come lend ya a hand, and now I'm glad I did. Looks like ya could use ma help."
Amata raised an eyebrow. "Cass, we've barely started." Cass smiled and shook her head. "'Mata, I love ya, but ya ain't negotiatin' in that vault a yers. Negotiatin' out here, you need somethin' key, somethin' that yer missin'." Amata racked her brain trying to figure out what she meant, but came up empty. "Ok, Cass, what am I missing?" Cass smirked. "Alcohol, 'Mata. Alcohol." "Uh, Cass, I don't think that drinking would be conducive to having successful negotiations." Cass laughed.
"'Mata, out here, negotiations are held with alcohol present. Loosens people up, makes 'em more agreeable. Trust me, 'Mata. I've been doin' it out here fer years." Amata thought it over. Cass was right. She had negotiated out in the wastes for years, while her only real negotiating attempts were doing the standoff, and she had failed each time she tried to talk to her dad.
"Ok, Cass, I will concede to your expertise in this case," she said eventually. "That's great, 'Mata. Between tha two a us and tha alcohol, they won't know what hit 'em." She grabbed a few bottles of whiskey. "Now grab some shot glasses, and let's go negotiate us an agreement. I wanna see if I can get tha Colonel drunk." Amata grabbed the glasses, happy that Cass was out of her funk and back to normal.
(Same time, Big MT)
The trek to the Forbidden Zone had been interesting. They had encountered more robo-scorpions, lobotomites, as well as Venus flytrap-looking plants that spewed gooey projectiles. They also encountered these green humanoids that looked to be a combination of human and plant. All were disposed of, thanks in large part to the suit.
They also came across a body along the canyon walls, or more accurately, what was left of a body, as it looked like the various creatures that called this place home had used it for a meal. It was close to a total skeleton at this point, and only bits of clothing remained, including half of a black duster that had stars on the back, as well as black pants. Near the body was a golden pole with an eagle on top. From what Mark could tell, there was blunt-force trauma to the skull, as well as a myriad of other broken bones.
As they approached the X-42 facility, they noticed that there were a lot of large red crystals lining the canyon walls. They tried to break a piece off one to examine it further, but found that it was impossible, as the material seemed too hard to break off even a small piece.
The trio now stood at the entrance to the Forbidden Zone, aka the X-42 Robo-Warfare Facility, which was in a small tunnel built underneath the rock cliffs. "Well, you guys ready?" Mark asked. "Feeling like we should be asking you that question, since it was your brain that was taken," Veronica said. Mark shrugged. "True. Well, no time like the present, I suppose." He pressed a button next to the door.
There were loud whirring and thunking noises as the door opened along a vertical seam. Once it got about halfway open, it stopped. Mark approached and looked in, seeing a dimly lit corridor with a doorway at the end, and not much else. He stepped in, Veronica and John following. "MARI, can we get a bit more light, please?" Mark asked. The beam on his chest glowed a bit brighter.
"Thank you, MARI." "You're welcome, sir," the AI responded. The hallway had no other doorways, save for the one at the end, so they had no choice but to go straight. Walking through, the came to a small platform next to a pod. The room, which had been dark, brightened up when they walked in. The lights revealed a cavernous room, with more pods connected by walkways and staircases lining the room.
"Holy shit," John said. In the center of the room was an absolutely massive robo-scorpion, one that looked to be as long as a city bus, and at least twice as wide. Lightning cascaded onto the scorpion from a device hanging from the ceiling above it. They then heard a voice over the intercom, the voice of Dr. Mobius.
"ATTENTION VISTIORS: COMBAT EXPERIMENT IN PROGRESS. PLEASE PUT ON YOUR GOGGLES AND TAKE YOUR RAD-X NOW! THE X-42 GIANT ROBO-SCORPION…IS ALIVE! AWAKE MY PET! INITITATE YOUR SEARCH-AND-DESTROY PROTOCOL IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT IS MOBIUS!" The scorpion turned to them, and the tail began to charge up. The three of them dove into the pod moments before a large beam of purple energy hit where they had been standing.
The three of them sat just underneath the window, out of sight of the scorpion as it searched for them. "How the fuck are we supposed to beat that damn thing?" John asked, taking a peek at it. "Well, this is a testing ground, right?" Veronica said. "There has to be some way to shut it down in case of an emergency." "Shut it down…that's it!" Mark said as he had an epiphany. "MARI, can you shut that thing down?" he asked the suit.
"Hang on…yes, there is a computer nearby, commencing hacking…oh, that's amateurish…and done. The giant scorpion is down for the count, sir." The three of them looked through the window, seeing that the scorpion was slumped over and not moving. They stood up. "Well, that was anti-climactic," Veronica said. The three of them stepped outside the pod and looked around.
"Sir," MARI said, "I am detecting two life signs on the other side of this facility." Looking opposite of where they were, they saw another pod, this one elevated, through which Mark could see a door. "Well, I guess that's where Mobius and my brain are. Wish me luck," Mark said. "Mark," Veronica said sternly, "you are not going up there alone. The man is obviously crazy, and like you told Skye, we have no idea what else Mobius has waiting there for you."
Mark shook his head. "Veronica, they abducted me and took my brain. This is my fight." Veronica became exasperated. "Christ, Mark, we are your friends. We're here to help you. Just because you can do something doesn't mean that you should, and facing a mad scientist alone is something that you should not do!"
"Guys, look, I'll be fine. You're forgetting that I have the ultimate offensive and defensive weapon at my disposal," he said, tapping the suit on the chest. "You're too kind, sir," MARI said appreciatively. John stared at Mark. "You know, kid, Jack had this tendency to do the same thing, running off to do something like this by himself when he could've had help, and somehow came out of it just fine. Something tells me that you have that same ability." Veronica looked at John. "Who is Jack?" she asked. John smiled wistfully. "An old friend," he said. Realizing that that was all that she was getting out of him, she turned back to Mark.
"There's no way to talk you out of this, is there?" she asked. Mark shook his head. Veronica sighed in exasperation. "God, you are so frustrating that it's not even funny. This is partly why I'm glad that I'm not into men. You're all so pig-headed and stubborn." Mark smiled and rolled his eyes. "Right, because no woman in the history of the world has ever been pig-headed and stubborn, right?" he said sarcastically.
Veronica just shook her head. "Whatever, just go. But if we hear any lasers or gunfire, we're coming in. Got it?" Mark nodded and gave Veronica a hug. "Good luck, kid," John said once Mark let go of Veronica. Mark nodded and flew up into the air and over to the other pod, flying in through the open window. Looking around, both doorways into the pod were covered by blue forcefields.
Walking straight, he opened the door and went in, closing the door behind him. He walked up a ramp and into a room that was similar in size and make-up as the Think Tank dome, but that was where the similarities ended. Where the Think Tank dome was clean and gave off sort of a bluish glow, this room was dirty and had a sickly green haze. Looking down, he saw white writing all over the ground and the walls, and upon closer inspection, saw that they were mathematical equations. It seemed like old equations had been erased to make room for new ones. There was no sign of his brain.
He then heard a voice, singing some song. Looking over to the side of the room, he saw another one of the floating constructs that the Think Tank used, except it seemed dirtier than the others, and from what he could tell, one of the monitors was broken. Mark assumed that this was Mobius. He decided that he would try to reason with the man first. He approached the doctor slowly.
"Dr. Mobius," Mark called out. He seemed startled as he turned around. His right eye monitor was indeed broken. "Mmm? Y…oh…hello there. Eh…you…are there, aren't you? Forgive my confusion, it's so hard to tell these days. You seem familiar, somehow. "I'm guessing…eh…you're here for your brain? It's just up there," he said, pointing to a metal drum at the top of the staircase with one of his eye monitors. 'Well, at least it's here,' Mark thought
Mobius continued. "Such a nice brain. Young, very bright. A little hard to see you. Could you walk into my left…er, right FOV cone?" Mark looked on, confused. This was not how he expected Mobius to act. He seemed more like a forgetful old man, not like a mad scientist. He did as Mobius asked. "Ah, that's it, you're coming into focus nicely. Depth perception is a problem with this old monitor of mine. Went black a while ago, but that's old age for you."
"Should look into getting the visual nerves reattached…it's just that the right eye would see the wrong things. The flying tortoises were the worst. Would you care for a mentat?" "Um, no thanks. You know, I can't fix your monitor, but if you're getting ghost reception, I can fix that." Mobius was astonished. "You mean that the ghosts aren't real? That changes everything! I can save my computing powers for other perceptual unpossibilities. Please, be my guest!"
He turned around, and Mark found a small panel on the back, opened it up, and started to work. "The receptor is there…and the side-switching wobbly-bob, just turn that…good, good, better…Oh….ooooh, yes, that feels wonderful!" Mark finished up and closed the panel, and Mobius turned back around.
"Oh, that is much better!" Mobius said. "This is even better than my afternoon mentats break. I do so love mentats, all delicious and smarty. I have all sorts of science-arific thoughts and ideas when those chalky tablets are zipping through my biogel. I forget them all not long after, though, especially with the data constipating my memory core. Afraid binary streams might shoot out my chassis. Had to start using the dome floor and walls to inscribe equations, although I've somewhat lost track of where they start and end."
"Mobius," Mark said before Mobius could get going again, "why exactly did you take my brain?" "Oh, a variety of raisins ('reasons?' Mark thought)…you're something of a homily…er, anomaly? You're quiet special, and not in the cranially-challenged way. You see, you're the most successful brain extraction ever performed here at Big Mountain. A victim of your own success, as it were. Why, if you were to go back with what your brain knows about the procedure, well…your brain could be popped back into your skull, and you could walk right out of here. Can't have brains moving about of their own volition, after all."
"Look, Mobius, I just want my brain back so I can get out of here." "Well, that seems rather hormonal of you, fight or flight response, you know, hard to cut that out completely. Your brain is here, safe with me. We chat over mentats." Mark rubbed his head. "Mobius, seriously, I need my brain back," Mark said. "Do you now? You seem quiet fine without it. Does it even want to go back with you? Maybe you should ask it. It's quiet independent, has all manner of opinions. If it wants to go, then fine. If not…then you should respect its wishes."
'Mobius is acting like my brain is able to talk. That's impossible, but then again, so is me walking around without a brain, heart, or spine so'…He shook his head. He had a few other questions that he wanted to ask Mobius. Something was going on here that he was missing. "Mobius, why did you broadcast those threats to the Think Tank? You don't seem that aggressive."
"Oh, I was probably tripping hard on psycho when I sent that. Had to work myself up to it. Not usually violent, except when I am. Then, watch out! So many chems! Such varieties! Whenever I take mentats, I can feel my entire chassis breeeeeeathe like a big, spherical lung. As for the psycho, well, sometimes the chem depositories in my tank get all switched up, go in the wrong tube. Still, served its purpose."
"Ok, so what about the robo-scorpions? Why make them?" Mark asked. Mobius cleared his throat. "Well, every scientist needs an army. Mine came to me after these rather large scorpions kept coming in from the dessert. Like poisonous frosting. How scary, I thought. But they had survived when nothing else had, perfect candidates for improvement, a reward for their tenacity."
"Then I thought, what if they shot energy bolts and acted as walking eyes and data-drained computers and acted as bullhorns? Then I thought about custard. I do so love custard. Or was it mustard? Mustard custard. Mmmm. I miss sugars and salts." Mark thought about everything Mobius had just said, and then it clicked. "Hang on, did you build the robo-scorpions and issue the threats to keep the Think Tank busy?"
"Did I?" Mobius asked, seeming unsure. "Maybe I did. Can't have them leaving. Some raisin for it. Ethics? Or was it con-science? You and your brain are quite alike, you know. I'm sure it knows the raisins better than I do." "Look," Mark said, "something's still not making sense. Your plan, even your name. "Mobius," like the Möbius Loop." Mobius chuckled. "Yes, Dr. Mobius…rather catchy, isn't it? It's my name. Well, my new name, anyway. Overwrote the old one."
"The new name is as real as you or I, although I believe that your brain expressed a similar incredulity at the nature of such an appellation. "Someone's been watching too many old-world science fiction movies," it said. I believe that it meant me. I must admit, I do have a vulnerability for holotape fantasies of planets and robots and all that is forbidden. As for the name I was born with…like the Think Tank, we were all reprogrammed to forget them, take on new names. It enforces the recursion loop in their programming."
"Wait, a recursion loop is designed to prevent the flow of information," Mark said. "Exactly. The radar fence I built to keep the Think Tank occupied wasn't enough. They kept testing it, and eventually would have found a way past it. I suspect I have plan 9's in place, but I may have coded myself to forget them, just in case. They're probably dangerous. Lethal, or worse. So, I had to do something to keep them here. I prefer to have several plan 9's in case the 7's failed."
Something suddenly made sense. "Their names…Klein, Mobius, O's a circle, 8's an infinity symbol, they're all loops to help enforce the recursion programming." "O, you figured it out, no pun intended. Dr. O, which is not actually his real name multiplied, since you can't multiply his name in the first place…Oro-bor-ous, Klein…They have forgotten themselves. Not only themselves, but the world, sense of time, and history. I reprogrammed their chronometers, geometers, and cartography programs. This is their world, Big Mountain."
"It was a merciful lobotomy, thinking back. They were my friends, but…" he sighed "…sometimes they would take things too far. The world isn't ready for that kind of too-far-taking thing. That's my professional opinion, anyway, and I am told that I was once quiet professional."
"Ok, so if you lobotomized them, made them forget, then why did you continue to terrorize them?" Mark asked. "Well," Mobius said, "it's simple. Despite their many failings, they are rather bright. They are the "Think Tank" for a raisin. That, I didn't change. Without something to distract them, make them afraid, they would simply de-deuce what had happened. And when they start deucing it up…Then you came along, the final variable solved. They saw that their world was larger than they perceived. Bacteria, finally able to see its host."
That seemed off to Mark. He knew for a fact that both Elijah and Christine had been here, and likely had interacted with the Think Tank in some capacity. "Mobius, I know that there were other visitors here. Why was I different?" "Yes, there have been other visitors to make them doubt their perceptions, but you were the one who dialed back their monitor micro-magnifiers."
"You were irrefutable proof that there was a world outside. And then there was the whole "brain" fiasco, which forced me to take steps. See, your brain had a special kind of…uh…wrinkle, a unique-ity that they had never thought to try in all their countless escape attempts." Unique wrinkle? What was he- Mark's eyes widened as it came to him. "A cranial injury from bullets," he said.
Mobius chuckled. "Yes, very good. I should have mentats ingest you instead of the other way around. Yes, you showed up at the Think Tank, and because you suffered a cranial injury in just the right place…" He coughed. "Bullets in the head are usually much more fatal, but yours was a light case of bullet-head-itis. But…it was enough for the Auto-Doc in the Sink to change its programming to fix the problem. And for the first time, the brain extraction process worked."
"That gave the Think Tank the knowledge its brains shouldn't…couldn't…sh'couldn't possess. With the knowledge, the procedure can be reversed. If they obtain the procedural data, they can use it to mush and modify their cranial selves to slip past the radar fence, and once they're off the reservation…" "Yeah, we can't let that happen," Mark said. Apparently, the only reason he wasn't a lobotomite was because Benny shot him in the head. It almost made him sorry for killing the bastard. Almost.
"So the technologies the Think Tank wanted me to retrieve, was that your doing?" Mark asked. Mobius laughed. "Yes. Through my threat broadcast, they became focused on retrieving those technologies and bring them to "attack" me. And coincidentally, all those technologies are needed to put a brain, your brain, back into its skull. Properly."
"How? How could those technologies possibly help me?" Mark asked, confused. "The X-2 antenna can be used to focus your alpha wave frequency thought patterns. The sneaky suit? Why, it houses a cardiac regulator. And the sonic soundwave projecto-emitter was never intended as a weapon. It is a medicinal vertebrae-pulse-de-sensitizer. In short, brains, heart, and courage…a spine."
"I think there was a story once where a band of murderous thugs sought out these things. They had them all the time in the story. Didn't stop them from murdering to get them, and it won't stop the Think Tank, either." "Uh, Mobius, the Think Tank downloaded the schematics. They could just rebuild them."
"Oh," Mobius said, "then I guess that means that my plan was a total failure. Oh well, at least I tried. You should go ahead and talk to your brain. Maybe it has an idea that you could use." With that, Mobius floated away. Mark looked up at the top of the staircase to the metal drum. 'Am I seriously about to talk to my own brain? I guess I am."
He walked up the stairs. The drum had couple of gauges on the front, which he couldn't make heads or tails of. Seeing nothing to open it, he knocked on it. "Uh, hello?" Suddenly, there was a hissing noise, and a glass chamber rose out of the base. Inside, surrounded by a yellow-green liquid, was a brain. His brain.
"Well, well, well, look who finally showed up," his brain said in a British accent. "Uh, I'm assuming that you're my brain," Mark said, astonished. "Ah, lovely, figured that out, did we? Would you like a cookie?" the brain said sarcastically. Mark sighed. "Look, there's no reason to get on my case. Meeting your own brain is just plain weird." "Yes, well, believe me, the opposite is equally weird as well. Good lord, have you bathed since they pulled me out of you?"
"Yes I have, actually. What about you? That tank doesn't exactly look springtime fresh," Mark retorted. His brain sputtered at this. "I-well-that-that's completely different! This tank isn't biological at all! There's a big difference!" Mark chuckled at the absurdity at all of this. "Heh. Didn't realize that my brain would be such a dick."
"Well, that's a fine how-do-you-do! Me, a quote, dick, unquote. As if I'm the one responsible for you gadding about the wastes. You could have stayed in the vault you know, and not have had to deal with all of this!" Mark raised an eyebrow. "Stay in the vault? Are you nuts? First of all, I wanted to find my dad. Secondly, Alphonse was insane. He had Jonas killed, and ordered Stevie Mack to assault his own daughter. There's no telling what he would have done to me if he caught me. I had to leave."
"Besides, we live in a freaking hotel now. What else do you want?" "I want you to stop doing dangerous things, like, like, going into a vault full of super mutants, or going into chambers full of deadly radiation, or go charging off to Vegas on missions of ill-conceived revenge!" his brain said. "Listen, I had very good reasons for all of those. Well, okay, maybe not the last one, but you definitely are responsible! You're my brain!"
"I most certainly am not responsible! I am the seat of reason and logic in our little partnership. All those-" his brain made a shuddering noise "-those feelings that motivate you, that sense of righteousness, that rush you get when you help someone, do you know where those come from? HMM!?" "Well-" Mark started to say, but he got cut off. "GLANDS!" his brain spat out. "They come from glands. Free from the tyranny of your ape-like and primitive endocrine system, I can see how foolish your motives are!" Mark smirked at his brain.
"You do remember that my dad…our dad? Whatever, that he was a doctor, and I read a lot of his books. You do realize that the brain is the source of those glands, right? Unless you're saying that my thyroid is to blame." That caught his brain off-guard. "Well…I…look, it's a very complicated system of biofeedback and a lot of other complicated things that you wouldn't understand."
Mark smiled and pointed at his brain. "Admit it, you're just as glandular as I am." His brain sighed. "Fine, maybe I am, but at least I'm not logical about it." "Yeah, nothing in this damn crater is logical. For instance, why do you sound like Wadsworth and not me?" "Well, there wasn't exactly a plethora of voice-modules here in the Forbidden Zone. It's not as if brain-sustaining life-support tanks grow on trees, you know. It was either this or the voice of a heavyset female potato farmer from Estonia."
"Yeah, and speaking of those tanks, is that all that's in there, just the fluid to sustain you, like my heart and spine?" Mark asked. "Well, um, sort of. I'm pretty sure that this tank is liberally salted with ground mentats. Perfectly safe, I assure you." Mark nodded. "How did Mobius get you here, anyway? Forgot to ask him that."
"Well, once I had been extracted, the Think Tank began to bicker amongst themselves. We were quite forgotten about. Mobius keeps a close optical sensor on the goings-on over there. He seized the opportunity and spirited me away." "How exactly did he "spirit you" from there to here?" "A series of pipes underneath Big Mountain. Dr. Mobius tells me it was all quite sanitary." Mark pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Ok, I'm just going to cut to the chase now. I need to get you back in my head." "Look," his brain said, "I'm not going to lie to you. The prospect is definitely not appealing. Here, I have peace, quiet, safety-well barring the odd rogue scorpion. In your head I've got poison, radiation, grisly injuries and biological functions. Do you know how much more you can get done when you're not looking for places to urinate? It's quite a lot, I'll tell you. I've been doing a lot of reading, brushing up on the classics."
Mark ran a hand over his head. "Look, you don't understand: If you don't get back in my head, I can't leave, and that's something I'd very much like to do!" "Hmm. I had overlooked that angle. Still, it wouldn't be bad staying here. We could be comfortable." "Well you might be, but I wouldn't," Mark said. "I have a family. We have a family. Are you saying that you don't miss them? That you don't miss seeing Abby smile? Seeing Amata, well, naked?" His eyes glazed over for a couple moments at the imagery.
"Hey! Keep your hormones in check! See, that's part of the reason that I like being here. I don't have to deal with overrated biological urges!" "Alright, alright, calm down. Look, you obviously have some legitimate points. Maybe we can work out a compromise of sorts. What can I do to make you agree to come back?" His brain was silent for a couple moments. "Fine. If you want me back, then we need to establish a few ground rules. You bathe regularly, so that's not an issue. You do need to get regular medical check-ups. Arcade is fine, assuming you're not going to keep hitting him."
Mark grimaced. "Yeah, I still need to apologize to him. Anything else?" "Yes," his brain said. "You need to listen to me more than your hormonal choir and genitalian orchestra. Promise me that, and you've got a deal. Besides, that suit does look interesting." Mark smiled. "Yeah, it does, doesn't it? Ok, I agree to your terms." "Wonderful. So, Dr. Mobius doesn't have an auto-doc here in the Forbidden Zone, so the only place to pop me back in would be the Sink, and we can't let the brains get a hold of me."
"Obviously not. How would I get you back to the Sink, anyway?" Mark asked. "Oh, I will just flush myself back over, and keep myself hidden in the pipes. Once I'm inside the Think Tank dome, the pacification field will be neutralized." That intrigued Mark. "Really now? Well, that gives me an idea on how to deal with the Think Tank. Alright, head on over and I'll meet you there."
"Very well. See you on the other side," his brain said before the tank lowered back into the drum. With that done, he turned and headed back down the stairs. He saw Mobius over to the side. He thought about talking to him again but decided against it. He had a meeting with the Think Tank.
(One hour later, Think Tank Dome)
Mark walked up into the Think Tank, this time with the suit on. He could feel that the pacification field was down, so his brain had made it safely. Upon entering, he found the dome bathed in an eerie red light, with the Think Tank all lined up side-by-side, like they were when he first met them. Mark stopped, and Klein spoke.
"THE LOBOTOMITE RETURNS! OUR LOBOTOMITE. HAS DOCTOR MOBIUS BEEN DENOMINATORED INTO SCRAP METAL AND VOICE MODULE PARTS?" "Oh, I talked to Mobius, Klein, and I found my brain. It's time to settle a few things," Mark said, staring straight at Klein. "I WOULD RECOMMEND WATCHING YOUR TONE WITH ME, LOBOTOMITE! NOW…"YOUR" BRAIN. HAND IT OVER, OR WE WILL EXTRACT IT AGAIN!"
"Not going to happen, Klein. We have a few things that we need to discuss." "BAH! WHAT COULD WE POSSIBLY HAVE TO DISCUSS? YOU HAVE THE BRAIN, WE HAVE THE TECHNOLOGY! ALL YOU MUST DO IS…SURRENDER. WITH IT, WE CAN FINALLY LEAVE. I CANNOT TELL YOU HOW BORING THIS PLACE GETS, CHOPPING UP THE LANDSCAPE AND EVERYTHING IN IT. WE HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS TO ASK YOUR BRAIN ABOUT THE OUTSIDE WORLD. A FERTILE TESTING GROUND FOR OUR EXPERIMENTS."
"I can't allow you to leave, Klein. The world's still recovering from war. Any testing you do would only hinder progress." "YOU CAN LET US LEAVE, AND YOU WILL! YOU DON'T REALLY HAVE A CHOICE!" Mark smirked. "Oh, really now? Tell me Klein, how does the air in here feel? Less passive, maybe?" "WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT, WITH AIR AND…WAIT A MOMENT. THE PACIFICATION FIELD IS DOWN!" He sounded extremely worried at this revelation, and the others started making nervous noises. "Bingo, Klein." Mark recalled the facemask, and held out his hand palms forward, repulsors glowing brightly. Two small towers of three rockets each rose from the shoulders.
"YOU…YOU'RE GOING TO ATTACK US? NO, NO, WE STILL HAVE THE NUMBERS ADVANTAGE," Klein said, still not sounding sure of himself. "Well, then let's even up the numbers a bit, shall we? REVEAL!" Mark shouted. The air crackled, revealing two figures standing ten feet away from him on either side. John was on his left, aiming a plasma rifle, and Veronica was on his right, aiming his gauss rifle.
"Surprise!" Mark said. "What's up, fishbowls?" Veronica said. "WHAT? THERE ARE MORE OF YOU? HOW CAN THIS BE?! Klein exclaimed. "You really should've paid more attention to me out there, Klein. If you did, then this wouldn't exactly be a surprise." "IT…IT DOESN'T MATTER! WE STILL HAVE THE NUMBERS! I COUNT THREE OF YOU, AND THE MIGHTY FIVE OF US!"
"Yeah, that's true," Mark said, "I'm still outnumbered, even with my compatriots. Then again, I have six rockets in my shoulders, and five of them are locked and ready to fire, one at each of your brain tanks. Combine that with the repulsors on my hands, and the gauss rifle and plasma rifle. You really think that those brain tanks of yours can withstand all of that damage at once?"
"You will surrender, Klein. I don't want to kill you, but I will if I have to." "I…I…I…FINE, WE SURRENDER. WHAT DO YOU WANT?" Klein said, resigned. Mark powered down his weapons and motioned for John and Veronica to lower theirs. "Good, so here's what's going to happen. All of you, you are not going to have another thought about leaving this crater, or this dome, and by the dome, I mean this room. You will not go to the Sink, or to anywhere else in the building. In exchange, I will not kill you, and I will bring you pieces of the outside world to poke and prod to your heart's content. Do we have a deal?"
"WORK FOR YOU? AND FOR SCIENCE? I HAVE A STRANGE SENSATION…THAT I WOULD LIKE THAT. HOW…ODD. VERY WELL, PARTNER. THE THINK TANK IS AT YOUR SERVICE, AS LONG AS YOU DO NOT DESTROY US." With that, the scientists went back to their stations, acting as if nothing had just happened.
Veronica walked over to Mark. "Well, that was weird," she said as she observed the scientists. "Yeah, well, this whole place is nuts. Come on, let's get out of here." They began to walk away, when they noticed John still staring at the Think Tank. "John, you coming?" Mark called out. John shook his head to clear him from his daze. "Yeah, yeah, I'm coming. Just got a bit nostalgic there. Now let's go put you back together, kid." "Yeah, what he said, Humpty Dumpty," Veronica quipped. Mark let out a laugh. That was a good one.
(Eight hours later)
The surgery had been a success. Instead of just swapping out the mechanical parts for his natural ones, Mark actually had them combined. According to the data that the Auto-Doc obtained from his brain, combining them would significantly improve his body's overall functioning. The surgery itself took six hours, and after that he rested for two hours.
Veronica was initially against it, but once the Auto-Doc explained that the surgery would be as safe as he could make it, she relented. John didn't care either way, as he said that it wasn't his business to tell Mark what he should or shouldn't do. While he was out, John passed the time by napping and meticulously cleaning all of the weapons they had stored there. Veronica spent the time seeing what Wallace could create, as the workbench and the area around it was filled with various devices and parts of devices. At Mark's direction, she had also bagged the crops that had been grown, as they would be heading back to the Mojave with them.
Now that he was recovered, he was at the computer in the center of the room, attempting to bypass the interference that the energy dome created so he could call for a ride home. "Uh, kid, correct me if I'm wrong, but don't you have to do this in that other building? Not to mention the other problems that you had with it earlier." "Yeah, this looks like some heavy-duty encryption, Mark. Are you sure that you can break it?" Veronica asked.
"Don't worry guys. A, my brain was sitting in a tank exceedingly saturated with ground mentats for over twenty-four hours, so it's become supercharged, basically. B, Mobius was controlling the radar fence from the Forbidden Zone, where my brain sifted through nearly every file in that place, which had pretty much every file in Big MT, all of which is now in my brain. One of those files just happened to be the encryption key for the radar fence control, which will now be controlled from here. Now, just give me one more second…and done!"
Moments later, both pip-boys in the room beeped. Mark checked his, seeing that he could contact the ship again. "Alright, I'm gonna call for a ride. You guys grab the bags with the crops. Leave the weapons here, we'll be able to come back." "What's this ride you're getting for us?" John asked. "You remember how Veronica left earlier? It's basically that, and yes, it will take us right to where your daughter is."
"Good. It's been too damn long since I've seen her. I just hope that I can repair our relationship." "You'll be fine, John. I think that she missed you more than she let on," Veronica said. "Well, here's to hoping. Let's go get those bags, Veronica." The two of them went to the room with the planters, while Mark went into the bedroom and shut the door.
"This is Captain Franklin to Starship Zeta. Do you copy?"
(Starship Zeta Bridge)
Elliott was sitting in the Captain's chair, dozing, when suddenly a voice came through the panel in front of him, startling him. "This is Captain Franklin to Starship Zeta. Do you copy?" All movement on the bridge ceased, except for Elliott, who pressed a button. "Captain Franklin, this is Commander Tercorien. I hear you loud and clear. It's good to hear you again sir. Are you okay? Do you need assistance?" "I'm fine Commander, and yes, I do need assistance."
"First of all, is there still a satellite on the roof of the 38?" "No sir. Your wife had us retrieve it, so it is safely stored up here." "Good. For now, access to it is restricted to you, me, and miss Santangelo. Understood?" "Yes, Captain," Elliott replied. "Good. I know that you know where I am, and that I couldn't leave. Well, I can leave now, so I need you to send a beacon to the roof of the 38, tie it to my pip-boy, and then contact Amata and the others and let them know we'll be there in five minutes. Copy?" "I copy, Captain. Anything else?" "No, that will be all, Commander. I will speak with you in person in the next few days. Captain Franklin out."
(Four minutes later)
Mark, John, Veronica, and Skye were all in the main room, ready to depart. Veronica was holding Skye, while Mark and John were holding the bags with the crops. "Bon voyage, sir. Until we meet again," Wallace said. "Don't worry Wallace, I'll be back soon. Got some ideas that I want to test out. Doc, you're probably going to be having another patient shortly," Mark said, thinking about Cass. "I will be here and waiting, good sir," the Auto-Doc said.
Mark looked at the other humans, who were standing on either side of him, touching him in some fashion. "You guys ready?" They nodded, while Skye barked. "Good. MARI, you locked in on the beacon's signal?" "I am, sir," the AI said. "Ready to depart on your command." Mark smiled. "Alright then. Let's go home." There was a flash, and they were gone.
Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. So the Old World Blues Arc is completed. Mark and the others will go back from time to time, it's just that the main story is complete. I understand that there is a lot left to be uncovered, but Mark's main focus was getting his brain back so he could return to his family, not on exploration. Also, if anyone didn't get it, the body that they found in the canyons was Ulysses, so Lonesome Road is not going to happen. Before you all crucify me, let me explain why. The Fallout wiki states that the package that the Courier was to deliver was sent from Navarro, intended for the Divide. Seeing as Mark has never been to Navarro, or anywhere in California at all, that wouldn't make sense. Also, it says that it takes three days to get to the Divide from the Mojave, and the only time he's had to walk three days plus to get somewhere was from either Goodsprings to Vegas, or from the Sierra Madre to Vegas, and there was nothing in the story to suggest that he had been anywhere near the Divide. The Divide still exists, but for this story, it was another Courier who caused the damage, not Mark. The Divide will play no part in the story. While I am somewhat creative, I am not creative enough to think up an alternate reason as to why Mark would need to go there. Until next time, reviews are welcomed and appreciated.