New Vegas: Sheason's Story

Chapter 82: Old School, Ghoul

"You know, it feels like we've gotten a lot done today!" I said with a smile as Boone and I walked into the Lucky 38. ED-E was trailing behind us, bobbing in the air silently. Boone just sort of looked at me curiously.

"What do you mean?" Boone asked, coming to a halt just inside the Lucky 38's doors. I shrugged, adjusting the grip on my helmet so it wouldn't fall out from under my arm.

"Well, think about it," I started counting things off with my fingers. "We accomplished everything we set out to do in Vault 3, and then some. We got the part Veronica needed, we rescued some prisoners, helped get a wounded NCR Ranger back to McCarran, then we killed Motor-Runner - the leader of the Fiends. And then, after everyone else went home, you, ED-E and I went and crippled the Fiends leadership even further by killing Violet, Driver Nephi, and Cook-Cook, the three Lieutenants!" Boone just continued to stare at me from behind his sunglasses.

"Yeah," he said simply. "I know. I was there. Why are you telling me this?"

"Well..." I scratched the back of my neck. "You asked what I meant. And it just feels like we've gotten a lot done today. That's all." Boone continued to stare at me.

"You know, if you wanted some of the reward for the heads we turned in, you could just say so." I just started laughing, and slapped him on the back.

"C'mon man, you should know me better than that. If I really wanted the caps, I would've asked."

I urged us forward, and looked around, quickly realizing that we weren't alone down here. Off to the side, at the 38's casino bar, I could see Arcade, Emily, and April. Arcade had long since gotten rid of his armor and weapons, and he was behind the bar, presumably serving drinks. His labcoat was nowhere to be seen, and sitting on the bar between Emily and April was a series of printed papers, holotapes... and a few drinks.

"Hey guys!" I set my helmet on the bar and took a seat next to April. "Having fun?" The scientist next to me nodded, sliding a few papers across the bar to me.

"We've just been talking with Arcade," Emily said, sipping on a glass of wine. "Going over some of the notes we've made while looking at the computer systems."

"Sounds good. Found anything useful?" I asked. April shrugged.

"So far? Not much. Yes Man's been a big help, organizing all the data into different partitions in the system, but most of it is so heavily encrypted that we can't access it." She paused, and after a minute added: "Yet."

"Hang on, I thought Yes Man already went through the files?" I asked. "The other day, he said he'd found something about spaceships..."

"Well... he has, and he hasn't," April smiled, brushing a few errant strands of black hair out of her face and laughing nervously. "He's organized all the files, and has a rough idea of what's contained inside them, but the exact details of the files themselves are beyond his ability to access." Emily nodded, leaning around April.

"Yes Man is much better at the defensive side of cyberwarfare - keeping people out. He's not all that good at decryption." The redheaded scientist shrugged. "Benny never was all that smart about protection..."

"Are you sure?" I asked. "I mean... Yes Man seemed pretty confident the other day..."

"Oh, absolutely sure," Emily said. "Because of his programming, he is physically incapable of lying. I remember, because that was one of Benny's requirements when he had me reprogram him. We did find a few lightly encrypted things, though." Emily took one of the holotapes on the bar and held it up for me to see. "Massive catalogues of biometric data collected from the machines Mr. House used to keep himself alive over the last 200 years."

"Biometrics, huh?" I rubbed my chin. "Think you might be able to send that to the Followers, maybe find a medical use for it?"

"Unlikely, at least in the short-term." Arcade said, shaking his head. "They showed me some of the data. The technology behind the machines is frighteningly advanced."

"Frightening?" Boone spoke up from behind me; he was refusing to sit. "I'm not sure I get it. How can something advanced be frightening?"

"Because no one had access to this level of technology - before or after the bombs dropped," Arcade let out a single grim chuckle. "The old US government, the Enclave, the NCR, the Followers, even the Brotherhood - what I've seen and what these two have shown me is so far beyond what any of them have or had access to, that it would take decades just to understand the science behind how it even works."

"We've only barely scratched the surface," Emily said. "And we've already uncovered enough data to fill up at least 50 holotapes, with mountains more still to decode. We can do it, I'm sure of it, but..."

"It might take a while," April finished for her.

Without warning, ED-E zoomed through the air, coming to a stop to hover in the air between all of us, beeping and chirping happily.

"ED-E?" I asked, getting up off the bar stool. "You alright? What-"

"Experiment Log 369248/A," A voice erupted out of ED-E's speaker grill. It sounded like the same voice as before - the Enclave scientist. "Eyebot Duraframe universal interface override system. This is Dr. Whitley presiding. Initial tests of the override system are promising. Against unsecured systems, or targets using anything less than a 64KB encryption key, the Eyebots have a 98% success rate." And then, just as quickly as it began, there was a crackle of static, and the recording ceased.

"Hang on," I said, leaning on the bar as ED-E hovered right in front of my face. "Are you saying you might be able to help these two?" The eyebot started nodding up and down in the air, beeping happily... and then his beeps started getting slightly non-committal, and he started swaying slightly. And then he nodded again, letting out a trio of happy chirps.

"Wait, I'm confused," Arcade said, looking up at ED-E. "Was that a yes or a no?"

"Well April," I said to the black haired scientist sitting next to me. "I guess you're gonna be able to work with ED-E after all."

"Hey, Fisher?" Boone called out to me; he'd moved away from the bar, and was edging toward the elevator. "Got a minute?"

"Uh... sure. 'Scuse me, ladies. ED-E. Arcade." I jogged over to Boone, who was waiting by the elevator. He seemed incredibly nervous. "What's up?" Boone leaned in close, with his back to the scientists at the bar.

"Are you sure you can trust them?" Boone asked, glancing over his shoulder. His voice was very low. "I mean... Arcade is an alright guy, fair enough, but... do you really think it's a good idea giving those two free reign in here?" I shrugged.

"Well, Arcade vouched for them when they first arrived. And they seem to have good intentions. Besides, it's like they said - there's mountains of technology in here. I can't do it myself, because I just don't have the know-how. I'm gonna need help if I'm going to try and understand any of it. Maybe with their help, I can actually get some use out of it."

"Hrm." Boone seemed... I dunno, more suspicious and paranoid than normal. And that was saying something.

"Speak your mind, man. What's really bothering you?"

"It's just... Veronica wasn't far off when she called them anarchists before. Are you sure you know what you're doing?" I did my best not to show it on my face, but I was glad he voiced one of the same concerns that I'd had. Instead, I just smiled and slapped him on the shoulder.

"Boone, don't worry. I totally understand where you're coming from, but I've got a plan." Boone raised an eyebrow.

"You have a plan?" He definitely seemed unconvinced now.

"Well..." I gave a nervous chuckle. "I have... part of a plan at least." I smiled broadly at him, but Boone sighed, shook his head, and hit the elevator call button behind him.

"Whatever. Are we still going to recon the Vaults tonight?" He asked. I nodded.

"Yeah. I'm thinking... hour and a half, two hours from now? That should give us plenty of time to resupply, right?" Boone nodded as the elevator doors behind him opened. He stepped inside, and I made my way back to the bar to pick up my helmet.

"So, what did Boone want?" Arcade asked, sliding me a beer. I took a sip and sat down.

"Well, he's just..." Do I tell them? Eh, fuck it. "He's suspicious of you two, to be honest." I said to Emily and April. Emily seemed surprised, but April wasn't fazed at all.

"Well, yeah," the dark-haired scientist finished off the drink in her hands. "He's NCR, isn't he? The NCR and the Followers haven't gotten on in years."

"What about Julie and that Major she knows, Kieran?" Emily asked, brushing some of her red hair out of her face and adjusting her glasses. "Those two seem to get along." April rolled her eyes.

"That's just because it's Julie. She is the nicest person in the known universe, I don't think it's possible for anyone to hate her."

"Hell, I thought Boone was just being cautiously paranoid. So, the NCR and the Followers don't get along?" I asked. That was news to me. Arcade nodded his head.

"No. At least, not for a while. Not since the Followers running things out of the Boneyard started being actively vocal in their opposition of the NCR's expansionist policies."

"The Boneyard leaders haven't been that vocal, have they?" Emily asked.

"Not that vocal?" Arcade practically started laughing. "Don't you remember reading about what Adrianna Dorsey said to the Speaker of the House a few months ago? She called him a 'belligerent, pig-headed, jingoistic war-hawk whose only concern was lining his already fat pockets with more blood money'."

"You have that memorized," April sighed, resting her forehead in her hands. "I know I shouldn't be surprised that you have that memorized, Arcade, because... well, it's you..." Arcade just kept grinning.

"I still have the newspaper clippings! I just love that whole speech of hers. It's a glorious cavalcade of insults, one right after the other, saying everything we all know is true about the NCR, but most people are too afraid to say out loud."

"You know, even when I was travelling around California, I never really paid all that much attention to politics,"I said. "Was it always like that between the Followers and the NCR?" The question wasn't really directed at anyone specific.

"Not always," Emily said as she continued to sip her wine. "Back in the early days, the Followers helped jumpstart the NCR - when their only claim was the city of Shady Sands. But then, the NCR started expanding, annexing territory, bringing all the different tribes living in California under one flag... and no matter how much they had, they always seemed to want more. Because of that, the Followers and the NCR have had goals completely at odds with one another, at least in the last few decades."

"Alright, so if there's so much antagonism between you guys..." I took another drink of my beer. "... why hasn't the NCR tried to shut you down yet?" Arcade shrugged.

"The best I can figure? The political backlash would be too bad." Emily and April both nodded.

"The Boneyard University is still run by the Followers," April said. "There's no better place to get an education, and everyone in the NCR knows it - citizens, politicians, brahmin barons, everyone. That's why they've been sending a lot of their OSI recruits there. Not even the Vault City college can measure up."

"Not to mention there's all the missions we've tried to open all across the NCR's frontier." Emily pushed her glasses up her nose again. "A huge chunk of the NCR's population lives in towns on the frontier, and a lot of times... the only help those people can get is from a Followers doctor. The Followers are the only ones who care about helping people that far away from the cities..."

"The Followers are the only ones who care about helping people get an education..." April said with a sigh.

"The Followers are the only one who seem to care at all." Arcade said, finishing off the thought.

I sat there, drinking my beer, and trying to soak in all this information. And eventually, I decided to speak.

"You know what? I'm going to make a promise to you guys, right here, right now," I tapped the bar with my fingers a few times. "As long as I'm living in the Lucky 38... the Followers will be welcome in Vegas. You have my word."

"Do you really mean that?" April asked. I nodded, finishing my beer, grabbing my helmet, and getting up off the barstool.

"Might not count for all that much, now..." I said, starting to slowly walk away. "But yes. I really do mean that. I'm gonna do what I can to help you guys out, NCR be damned."

"Why?" Emily asked, turning around in her stool to get a better look at me. "Why would you do that for... us?"

"I want to make a difference. That's what I've been trying to do with that whole 'Courier Six' thing." Well... that's one of the things I've been trying to do... "The Followers seem to be all about making a difference, so I'm gonna do everything I can to help you guys out." I started to walk away, but stopped mid-stride, and turned back to them. "Oh, just... one thing, and it kind of goes back to Boone's earlier paranoia."

"Yes?" April and Emily both spoke in unison, and both of them looked worried.

"I only have one rule: don't cross me." I made sure that I kept smiling as I said that. "It never ends well." After the two of them stared at me in stunned silence, I decided to try and soften the blow. "Look at it like this - as long as you don't shoot me in the head or threaten to kill my friends, you'll be fine. That's reasonable, right?"

By the time Boone, ED-E and I returned from our little scouting mission, it was just shy of 11:30 pm. I was about to turn in and get some sleep (since, as usual, things hadn't quite gone to plan...) when I remembered: I still hadn't talked to Raul yet. I knew he wanted to talk to me about something, but I didn't know what, so, I went looking for him. I didn't find him until I wandered into the revolving restaurant at the top of the 38.

"Hey, Raul," I said when I finally spotted him. He was standing at the edge of the revolving floor, staring out the windows and watching the scenery roll by beneath him. I walked up behind him, and he didn't even acknowledge me. "You alright?" Raul blinked a few times, and finally noticed me when I rested my hand on his shoulder.

"Hmm? Oh, uh... yeah. Yeah, Boss. I'm fine." Raul shrugged and flashed a crooked, cracked smile. "Just... thinking, that's all. You got a minute to talk, Boss?" He sat down on one of the nearby couches, and I followed his lead, sitting opposite him.

"Absolutely. What's on your mind?" Raul sighed, rested his elbows on his knees, and leaned forward in his seat.

"Just... earlier today, when I met Corporal Sterling. It kind of got me thinking." Raul started gesturing with his scabby hands as he spoke. "Here's a guy that's been beat all to hell, right? Got his hands and feet mangled by Caesars Legion... but he doesn't quit. He could have retired from the service, but instead he signs back on and does what he can." He looked up at me, and suddenly his eyes looked very, very old. "Do you think he did the right thing?"

"Well... yeah." I leaned back against the sofa. "I mean, he's an ex-Ranger who was accepted into 1st Recon. Even after a crippling injury, a man like that is still probably tougher and more dangerous than most men alive. If you can still do some good, then why not do some good?" Raul stared at me for a long while before finally starting to slowly nod his head.

"Maybe... yeah. I guess you've got a point there."

"We're not really talking about Corporal Sterling." I said. "Are we." Raul shook his head.

"Not really, Boss. No. But meeting him... it just got me thinking about ancient history." Raul sighed heavily. "Thinking about what happened when I finally left Mexico."

"I'm all ears, man." I leaned forward in my seat. Raul started rubbing the back of his neck.

"I left everything behind when I left Mexico. My home. My family. My name..." He looked up and gave a half-hearted smirk. "Even my face. As far as the world knew, I was Miguel," he tapped the nametag on his Petro-Chico jumpsuit. "And I was okay with that. I headed north for a while, and ended up in Tucson. Not Two-Sun, by the way."

"Yeah, I think you mentioned that," I said with a nod. "I've never been there, so I'll take your word on that."

"Things were pretty good there." He paused, grimacing. "Well, okay. Maybe not good, but better than Mexico City. I found myself a little shack, and started fixing things to keep myself busy."

"Fixing things?" I asked. Raul nodded.

"Oh, sure, Boss. I've always been good with my hands. I figured, since I'm pretty handy with a wrench, I may as well put my talents to good use. At that point, I figured it was a better way to use your hands than killing. I mean, even then... I wasn't getting any younger or faster." He paused for a minute or two, obviously thinking back. I didn't want to interrupt. He shook his head and sighed. "I lived there for a long time. Kept to myself, didn't get into any fights. As far as the locals knew, I was just the viejo chiflado, the doddering old Mexican who knew how to repair anything. Hell, the only reason I even kept my guns oiled was professional pride."

"Sounds like a decent enough place," I said, nodding. "Why aren't you still there?"

"Getting there, Boss. I'd been in Tucson... I dunno, maybe 75 years. And then... she showed up."

"She?" I asked.

"Prettiest thing you ever saw, Boss. I... maybe it was just a trick of my old, senile brain, but when I first saw her, I swore she looked just like my Rafaela. My little sister come back from the dead... I mean, she wasn't, obviously. Her name was Claudia. But the resemblance was... Dios mo, Boss, it was uncanny. She ended up taking work at... well, the sign above the door said it was a saloon. But everyone knew it was a brothel." I thought about that for a minute.

"You didn't... I mean... did you ever go see her?" I asked. Raul looked mortified.

"Wh- no! No, no, Boss... I... no. I couldn't. I mean... quite apart from her looking like my dead little sister, she... I don't think she'd... I mean, look at me." Raul shook his head profusely. "No, I just... all I tried to do was look after her in my own way."

"So what happened?" I asked.

"This was a long time ago. Long before Caesar's Legion pacified Arizona and brought the raider tribes to heel. A tribe came into Tucson one day - more a gang, really. Dirty Dave and his six brothers. They rode into town, looking for bullets. Ammo was one of the things I sold at my shop... and I sold some to them. I figured if I gave them what they wanted, they'd leave town before they tore it up too much."

"But they didn't," I said, already suspecting where this was going. "Did they?" Raul stared at me and slowly shook his head.

"No, Boss. No they did not." He sighed, and frowned; his lack of skin made his sober expression all the more pronounced. "I hoped they'd leave the town in peace. Instead, they decided to stop at Claudia's brothel to take the edge off. I don't know which one of them got rowdy first. I suppose... it doesn't really matter, now. By the time I heard the screams and got my guns, it was too late. They'd shot up the place, killed four girls, and taken Claudia for their sport."

"Did you rescue her?" I asked, dreading the answer. I could already tell from his expression that this story wasn't going to end well, but I asked anyway.

"I went after Dave and his brothers. They'd had a head start... but they slept nights." Raul looked up at me with fire in his eyes. "I didn't. Even so, it took me three days to catch up to them. By the time I got there... Claudia was already dead." Raul shook his head. "I couldn't do anything except avenge her. Just like Rafaela. I did the only thing I could think of, Boss. I charged headlong into the middle of their camp and started firing. Two of them were dead before they even knew I was there. The other five, though... they shot the shit out of me. They filled me with every single bullet they had, until they didn't have any more."

"How'd you survive?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"Simple. By being a meaner old cuss than the rest of them, Boss. Rage is a hell of an anesthetic. I wanted to keep living until they weren't, so I just kept fighting, kept shooting, until all of them were dead. When all was said and done, though... I was in pretty bad shape. The rage wore off, and I just collapsed. I don't know how long I laid there in the middle of nowhere, with the sun baking me and buzzards chomping at me. Somehow, a few days later, I found the strength to move again. And about a week after that, I managed to drag my carcass back to town."

"What happened then?"

"Well, when I recovered... more or less... I left Tucson behind. Started wandering. Phoenix, Santa Fe, Denver, Zion. Eventually I wound up here in the Mojave, ran into Tabitha at Black Mountain and... well. The rest you know," Raul sighed again. "I thought I was done with the gunslinging life decades ago. I thought I was too old, too slow, and too beat up to protect anyone anymore. But then I started traveling with you, and I realized... I've always had my doubts."

"Doubts?" I asked. "About what?"

"About whether I still had what it took to carry my pistols proudly. To use them to do the right thing. And you know... I think it was when I killed that lakelurk, trying to turn you into lunch. That's when I started giving it some serious thought. I may not be as tough as I used to be, but my brains can make up for that. And my hands are certainly still quick enough."

"And your eyes aren't nearly as bad as you claim." I added with a smirk. Raul started laughing.

"Well, that's true enough. Point is... I think it's time to put the guns back on." I looked down after he said that, and pointed to the revolver on his hip.

"What, you mean the guns you already have on? Those guns?" Raul shook his head taking one of the revolvers out of its holster, and holding it up for me to see.

"These? No. These aren't the guns I'm talking about, Boss. I haven't touched those in years... My guns - my father's guns - are back at my safehouse." Raul leaned back, looking out the windows again. "You keep talking about wanting to make a difference... well maybe I can too, in my own way..." Raul stood up, twirled the revolver around his finger like a old-west gunslinger, and holstered it. "It's time for the Ghost Vaquero to ride again."