Not that everyone saw them that way.

"Extranjero!!" the taco twins were at it again.

"Boss, the Martians are back.." Tank, epitomy of understatement as always.

"I ain't being abduc-teed and having no anol probe rectally inserted!" Could be heard being yelled from an upper balcony

"Everyone SHUT UP, and check you fire. Our alien benefactors haven't opened fire on us, see?" And to watch them, was to watch Death dance a perfectly choreographed ballet of carnage, like wraiths on a night wind.

For one, whatever their armour was, it was adaptable. The four futuristic warriors glided down on extensions that came out of their arms, like a built in mini hand glider. Landing spread out amongst the ghoul soldiers, the extensions snapping away and they? They actually danced around their opponents, continuously side-stepping shots, deftly blocking weapons and sliding under or away from any direct hits. Stray shots that did hit them bounced off, as if deflected before impacting.

For another, they were wielding some sic weapons, both ranged and for close combat. Serrated claws sprung from the back of their gauntlets slicing through bone and muscle like it was paper, two of them were armed with halberd styled staff weapons, one was armed with two sidearms that had ridiculously long bayonets attached under the barrels as well as bladed protrusions from the extended clip in the hand grip that the warrior used to great advantage.

He would step, slash, rotate, shoot, duck and turn, all the while targeting two ghoul merc at once, firing short bursts from the firearms. Then another step and twirl and pointing in completely opposite directions while crouched, blasted two more into pieces. Up again and in three steps and two salvos from each weapon floored another four ghouls. Weapons emptied he turned and planted both empty clip in the chest of a fifth. Magazines ejected while stabbing the foe, two more were fed from holders on the wrists into the waiting firearms, then stabbing both bayonets also into its chest, up to the muzzle brakes and firing multiple bursts that slammed the ghoul backwards into a wall. Stepping up to where the ghoul merc fell, the warrior retrieved both empty clips sticking out of the dead body.

All of them also had a some kind of shoulder mounted mini-plasma weapon that tracked where ever the head turned. A small laser designator embedded in the helmet would flicker briefly before the plasma weapon burped, a hole burning through another ghoul soldier somewhere.

It was beautiful.

It was terrifying.

In minutes the four of them decimated upwards of thirty ghoul mercenary soldiers who had been kicking our collective asses, all.. uh, nine of us. And we thought we were good.

The leader approached the stairs and ascended to where I was standing at the top, carbine hanging loosely as I fished a cigarette from a crumpled pack and lit it.

Tank had the M60 shouldered as a rifle, maybe a hundred and fifty rounds hanging out of the receiver. I heard Tex behind me, fresh from his upper balcony position. Looking over my shoulder I saw he had the sixty shouldered too. I also saw Wilbur and Ed following close behind, each with their sniper rifles readied. Cowboy brought up the rear, along with Moe and Petey. Cowboys head was bandaged and Petey's shoulder was covered in field dressing and in a sling. Petey had his Glock out, Cowboy carried his carbine while Moe hastily fed shells into the breech of his shotgun. The Taco twins were by my side, looking nervous enough to lay an egg. They all formed a semi circle behind me, weapons all levelled at the strangely armoured warrior as he reached the top of the stairs.

Slowly he unclasped the re-breather face plate from the front of the helmet. Attachment leads popped loose at numerous points with a resounding

FFFFt-Tsss..

"Frickin' bug-eyed aliens man.." Cowboy commented. Paco and Pepe couldn't stop crossing themselves. I motioned to for everyone to cool it.

Lifting the helmet free, a smiling face beneath a trimmed beard appeared, hair flowing in a Errol Flynn coup. A pair of aviator shades were produced from somewhere as well as a thin cigar. Offering a light and immediately regretting it as foul smelling smoke billowed about me.

"You get used to it." Commenting on the smoke. "And it does wonders for keeping them at bay." Indicating the foyer filled with bodies.

"That was some serious slick [censored] you and your friends just pulled." I motioned toward the other three still at the bottom of the stairs.

Another smile. Broad, warm and instantly likeable. "I was just about to convey the same from my entourage as well as myself." The three gave a slight bow, as he continued. "We were monitoring from the roof and thought you wouldn't even need our assistance, initially. You handled the wildmen most impressively for ones so ill equipped. And lasted much longer than we ever anticipated against the undead soldiers. They consider those to be their elite forces, you know."

Grumbles of discontent came from behind me, but I shushed them. "Thanks. Appreciate it. I'm glad we can at least outshine the boyscouts of America if we have to." I did add the sting though because the guys were right, we had given it our all out. But I don't know what would've happened if this guy and his three friends had decided to camp out on another roof top this afternoon.

He held his hands up in defence. "No, no. You misunderstand, please. We were there from the beginning to assist you, were it needed. We knew the size and abilities of the two groups, and were monitoring them earlier. Personally we had been pondering how to go about getting them to kill each other off, and then you all went and did it for us."

"Well, the names Andy, sergeant with O'Neill's Brigade. This is my squad tango-two-alfa."

he actually bowed slightly. "And I am centurion Carl Johnson, first century, third cohort of the Institutes defence guard.. Is it possible to arrange a meeting with your commanding staff?" I shrugged and indicated at his armour,

"Does that fancy tin can have a radio?"

+++

Walking next to me, rolling a smoke, humming a tune like nothing was the matter. We left Megaton and had headed off I the direction of the citadel, while mentally measuring the angle of the sun I figured we would get there well before dark. My carbine retrieved from Celeste, she had tempted me one the spot with promises of indecent behaviour when I was back if she could only but borrow the weapon. I grinned, and declined knowing full well that that would happen anyway. I had it riding a tactical three point sling with my hands free. Taking the tabacco from Carl, I also rolled a smoke.

"So why are you here?" I finally asked.

"What? A friend can't visit a friend, and be friendly?" he grinned, not wanting to come clean yet. I wasn't really in the mood for it.

"Not when you have to travel six hundred odd kicks to get here you can't."

"I'm hurt" He pouted. Works better for Celeste.

"You will be, now spill."

"Well, who says I didn't leave the Institute like you did, and make my way south, heard where you were and looked you up, huh? Did you stop to think of that?"

"Yeah, it crossed my mind, and then I farted." I looked at him. "you didn't leave the Institute because there's just no way you, could ever leave. So that leaves.."

we were just passing the remains of the supermarket. It was well to our left at the bottom of the hill. Ferals could be seen with infrared crawling all over the place. It had only been yesterday. Looking at Carl, it had only been a few years, but I knew what he was going to say like I knew what had happened the day before.

"That leaves the SRB, yeah." He said flatly. I really wanted to smack him now.

We walked in silence all the way up to Franks house up on the over pass. Crossing over the rickety small bridge to the part that had the main homestead always gave me the creeps a little, suspended forty meters above the river, Carl mentioned it as well but I stayed silent. On the other side was a thick white line painted across the asphalt with the words 'No Further' painted above.

"Wait here." I said and walked up to the gate and intercom, leaving Carl standing on the white line. Not knowing what to do, he put his heavy rifle down and crouched while he took a sip from his canteen and sat, humming.

At the intercom I buzzed. Mary answered. "Oh hello, Andrew. Frank is just changing Shelly." And in a whisper through the speaker, "She peed on her daddy." I grinned at the gate. "Would you like to come in?" said I needed to talk to Frank first and added softer that he needed to talk to me through the intercom. Mary muttered something about boys and their toys before the intercom went quiet. Then Frank's voice came through.

"Hey, hi Andy, he, he. I was just putting Shelly to sleep. Mary said you wanted to speak to me but didn't want to come in? What's up?" I looked at Carl, sitting against an ancient road divider cigarette in one hand, canteen in the other. My old buddy.

"Do the turrets still track everything outside of the white line?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Turn them on now, with motion sensor tracking on high, and on stand by mode." Four laser pointers swept the overpass and settled on Carl.

"Weapons free and hot. Uhh, again.. Why am I doing this with you still outside, Andy?"

Because I was going to be asking some tough questions, and wasn't taking any chances.

Okay, so I haven't edited wha I said I was gonna do.. I wrote the above instead

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------







3Dogg open his mouth to say something. And took a bite of jerky, again. For the last fifteen minutes he wanted to say something, but every time his mind rejected the remark before it could be stated, and he just sat there, watching and eating. He was of course watching Archie, who sat at a table with a lot of dogs sitting and laying around, dish out dried jerky to each of the dogs. Careful that each received a fair share.

Lucius sat in a rather comfortable couch, a plate of various dried jerky laid out on a stylish side table next to him, with a napkin even. Again he opened his mouth to speak and this time went through with it.

"So uhm, you live here all by yourself?"

Archie pointed around him, indicating the dogs. "Me live here, with them. They needs room."

Indeed. 3Dogg had counted over two dozen dogs, ranging in size from pups to just large and all the way up to 'Damn'. He had awoken the first time in a soft king-size bed, numerous pillows in his back, and three dogs carefully licking his neck wounds. He had only slightly freaked. Archie had been looking on and said roughly.

"Let dem lick. Works good. No 'fections happen then." Lucius passed out again.

The second time he'd woken up, Lucius was feeling a lot better, with the pain in his neck reduced to a dull throb. After wandering a bit he had found the large mutant and his dogs and sat down. Archie filled a plate an brought it over.

"Eat. To be better must eat. No veggies though. Veggies make you even better." 3Dogg dismissed the matter with a wave and took the plate speechless, until now.

'This dude lives in a department store. And I thought the GNR building was a find, dang!'

Finishing the plate ?he dared not leave it unfinished, 3Dogg opened his mouth again, need fuelling the next question.

"You, uh, got a restroom around here I could use? Or a bucket?" archie looked at him, as if using a bucket had never entered his mind before, and was distastful.

"No bucket. Bathrooms downstairs, at kids department." As 3Dogg turned to leave, Archie gave the slightest of nods and two dogs got up and went over to Lucius. "Ivy an' Gonzo go with. Sometimes mollyrats come up from basemant. Ivy an' Gonzo catch mollyrats good. You safe." And as an after thought, "You have coins? Here," and handed Lucius some small change. "Bathrooms cost coins." He said.

As Lucius walked through the building he was amazed at the state everything was still in.

'Like a time capsule.' He thought as walked down a flight of stairs. The stairwell lights had come on as he walked upto the door, just as everywhere he went. "The building reactor must still have juice. An' the processors are still functioning." As he walked out of the stairwell he noticed he was in the ladies department. A complete floor devoted to women's attire. Coats, dresses, business skirts with matching blazers, lingerie, scarves, earrings, jewellery ?very nice rocks indeed, and everything else a woman would want.

'Then and now.' He figured.

A robotic personal shopping assistant rolled up behind 3Dogg, "Hello shopper and welcome to SEARS Robuck inc. where we aim to please you." Nearly scaring him into peeing himself ?toilets, he remembed. When the robot continued, "you are not our usual customer. Are your measurements in our stores databanks? Please state your name, social security number or military service number for reference."

Usual customer? Screw taking a leak, this he had to find out!

"Uhm, I'm here for my friend, your usual customer?"

"Yeees.., the gentleman who always buys extra-extra-extra large."

"Well, with his last purchase, the-" Lucius paused, "What was it again.."

"Would that be the Martha Dandridge original, the Betty Ross continental or the Zsa Zsa G?r, low cut evening gown with matching pumps?"

Damn!

"Uhh.."

"Because it would be a shame since he had then on lay-away for.. checking databanks.. one hundred and twenty seven days, including weekends."

'Your secret is safe with me brother. I owe you my life anyway.' Lucius thought as he made it towards the toilet block moments later.

Walking back to the furniture department, 3Dogg was holding a few boxes in his hands with the biggest turned over, and was reading what it said on the bottom.

'Roboco. Remote Control Vertibird, with controller.'
'Now you can control the skies.'
'with real time video uplink and VR headset.'
'can fit a special purpose ?non lethal- BB gun'
'require 17 standard Ecell batteries'
'Armaments and Batteries each sold separately'
'Parent Advisory, not for children under the age of 8 years of age.'

Archie immediately raged when he saw 3Dogg carrying the boxes. "Waaaaaaaagh!!" If Lucius hadn't just been to the bathroom..

"Where you get that?? Where you take that from?!? Not suppose to just take. Not suppose to make mess!"

All Lucius could muster was that the boxes were still sealed. Archie took the boxes from 3Dogg and grabbing the shaken man by the wrist, marched down to the kids department, and straight to the isle where Lucius had found the toy.

"Here you take from." Whether that was a question or a statement wasn't directly clear to 3Dogg, but he nodded all the same.

"Grumpf." Setting the boxes down, he carefully arranged the remaining boxes so that the shelves still looked full. Picking the toys up again, he proceeded to one of the check out counters. Pointing at the cash register, he stated. "Now you gotta pay cash to machine. You get air-miles too. Me not sure what dat is though." Archie wasn't mad anymore, just that it said in the worker manual that all shelves had to be properly mirrored, the book said, or it would affect sales negatively. His face softened,

"Dis is da register of Mrs. Marge, last name Steepleton. She work in store for seven years. Has three kids, day called David, Paul and Patrice. Married to Hank. Had pictures of them in locker, nice pictures of kids."

"What locker?" Lucius was in kind of a shock to hear all of this.

"Personnel changing room, bottom floor. She has good scores and boss of her Mr. Peeclock says good things in report paper. She always have right amount cash in register box and so you gotta pay!"

Lucius blinked. He could've known, what with the lay-a-way and all, but still. It was weird to here this mutant talk like this. Like it all still mattered in a very real sense to the lumbering giant, that and his dogs of course. He looked at the price. $4999.99 Lucius had no idea whether that was a lot of money in pre-war terms. Nowadays cash usually meant a bag of bottlecaps, or ammo. But rarely were pre-war monies used in current business transactions. Still, it was still about. Traders sold bundles of it as toilet paper sometimes, and finding someone in megaton or Rivet City with a wad of paper cash couldn't be too difficult.

"Can I put it on lay-away?"

+++

"the fifty cals are loaded with SHAPE rounds. And the lasers are high density long beam lasers. They'll cut right through a man, ya know that?" I was slumped against Franks front door, just under the intercom. I rolled a cigarette. "you can probably breathe okay, provided you don't start panting or anything. And talking's fine, just don't move your head. And I wouldn't recommend taking another drink or finishing that smoke if I were you." Carl was being very still.

"What's going on buddy?" he asked, following the four laser dots with his eyes.

"Don't buddy me [censored]!" I hit the wall behind me with the back of my head. Carl nearly jumped. Servos whinned a few seconds, but he wasn't filled with holes so the defences hadn't been tripped, yet.

"Don't you [censored] 'buddy' me, Carl. Not when it's the [censored] SRB! I [censored] swear, If you hold back anything, I'll kill you. If you bend the truth, or I think you're bending the truth, I'll kill you. If you forget anything, I'll kill you. In fact, you're gonna have to work very hard to stay alive, Carl. Now, do you understand everything I've said? Because if you don't, I'll kill you!" He got the picture.

I smiled to myself. Maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't have to kill him.

"Now, Mr. I'm-gonna-speak, you may enlighten me."






^{Sorry, I really just had to steal that movie quote, please don't hate me..}

Eeehh.. My method is just write it as much and as fast as you can to get the ideas out then edit it later.

I was horrified when Cindy-Loo was shot. That was horrible

Man, that was...

Have I told you how much you are improving as a writer?

First, the multiple P.O.V. change in a story is easy to visualize, but very, very hard to pull off really well.

Which you have done. And quite well, too.

And now we have a NEW character to empathize about...a brain-eating, corpse-chewing, cannibalistic...HERO.

DANG BUT YOU CAN WRITE ANDY!!!


AND BY THE WAY, CONGRATULATIONS ON REACHING 1,000 VIEWS!!!!

And by the way, guess where this is from, Andy???

"I hear voices in my head
They talk to me, they understand
They talk to me....they TALK TO ME!!!"

He talked, I listened. It was kind funny when he had to sneeze, holding it in like some cartoon character, the laser dots all the while dancing over his body. But I knew what the tolerances were from the turrets and their programming, after all, Frank and I programmed them. Carl didn't know it, but he could have finished his cigarette, and probably even taken a drink from his canteen, as long as he was very slow about it, but he didn't know that and in the worst case that Carl was setting me up, that last thing I needed was him being able to move freely ?remember him at work in the cyclorama? He is that good.

Also a bloatfly zoomed up over the edge of the overpass just next to where he was sitting. Servos whined, the lasers coughed and four pieces of cleanly cut insect fell next to him. It was a nice example of the destructive power housed within the turrets, and I could breath a little easier that Carl really wouldn't attempt to try anything stupid.


The [censored] SRB, man they were like a bad rash that didn't want to stay away. It stood for the 'Synthetic Retention Bureau' and the gestapo minions of the good professor Dr., Phd., Md., Mds., MRCP., Thaddeus Helmut Zimmer.

There was a time that I counted myself proud to be one of his minions. There was a time I was proud of the work I did.

And that was no more.

But to explain the SRB means understanding what the Institute is, and how it came to be,.

Before the war Boston had been home to the few surviving government contractors that were left in the USA, in the form of MIT and the other universities and campuses that dotted Boston. The reason for the large number of extremely high tech institutes lay in the special political status of Massachusetts, being a member of the Commonwealth, as well as a 'state' in the union. What that reason was, was lost in the veils of history, but someone once said it probable had to do with federal taxation.

So, when the war broke out there were all these scientist down in their research bunkers, researching away, oblivious to the fact that Boston had just been blanketed under numerous neutron bomb explosions, wiping out all surface life where it stood, severely radiating everything shielded down to twenty five meters underground so bad that spontaneous ghoulification occurred in three quarters of those left alive. And everyone shielded below thirty meters underground didn't even notice what had happened until they came out of their lab bunkers and actually saw the devastation with their own eyes on the surface.

Quickly, with the aide of those campus security whom had survived together with the scientists underground, they entirely swept clean the area above ground that lay in between the Charles River in the south ?where the above ground campus buildings of MIT sat on the shores of, Mystic River in the north, and from Bunker hill in the east at the harbour front to a demarcation line in the west that ran more or less north-south starting at Mystic pond in the north down via Spy pond, to Fresh pond and finally the Charles River at Elliot Bridge where the remnants of St. Auburn Veterans Hospital in the south were, of all undesired survivors, often using flame-throwers.

The demarcation line was easily built. Using some salvaged bulldozers and wrecking equipment the people of the Institute, as they were now calling themselves, laid waste to a wide corridor of building and track housing. With the aid of explosives where needed and good old muscle elsewhere, the rubble from the demolitions was then pushed together to create an impassable zone some hundred meters wide, then automated turrets and watch towers were put in place to cover the approach. In the two centuries of the Institute, the Western Wall as it's known, has only grown in lethality.

This pretty much cleared the cities of Cambridge and Somerville for the exclusive usage of the Institute.

With the thought of repopulating the species, and using the best that the scientific community had to offer in the way of genes, breeding programs were set up to ensure a stable population without any chances of accidental inbreeding occurring. There are however a few existing memos from then, that state that egghead nerds still couldn't get laid in a post apocalyptic world and this at least made sure that everyone got some..

But with a severe shortage of women who could give birth to children, artificial insemination and wombs were developed over time for the gestation of the embryo, freeing up the problem of female shortage, and the need for the woman to have to keep having six with nerds.

In time, with the further medical development of accelerated artificial pregnancies and improved gestation techniques, as well as the technical developments of true AI and how to implant those AI with all of their accumulated memories and their entire personalities into grown bodies, the synthetic human, a.k.a. android, or just synth for short, came to life. More human than human was the unsung motto.

Their roles were menial in the beginning, clean up, waste disposal and manufacturing. As well as anything deemed to hazardous for real people. With improvements to AI intelligence the androids became useful in more complex duties and intricate behaviour. Soon there were android teachers for the children, engineers fixing and building the electronics, warriors manning the defences. Lovers laying in a bedroom.

But with the advancements that where constantly made in programming, resulting in an improvement some way or another, then the earlier versions of the android had to be phased out, actively. And this is where the underground began. With people not wanting to give up their beloved 'Uncle Bob™' or 'Sweet Shannon™' companion models. Soon it were the models themselves not wanting to be recycled.

Enter the Synthetic Retention Bureau. Set up to track down and retire wayward androids with extreme prejudice. Retirement being a bullet to the head.

+++

Carl looked sideways at me, still not moving. "C'mon Andy, it's on the level. I'm on the level. No one knows about you, except me. Honest. They think I'm tracking it alone, no clue I looked you up. Hell, I didn't even know I was going to find you until I spent a year looking for the bastard without success. That's why I looked you up. I need help."

"Yeah, you need help alright." Obviously, I wasn't helping. I echoed his words flatly. "On the level, like New York was 'on the level'? Cowboy died in those tunnels, remember Carl?!" I knew that would shut him up.

"This bastard killed a hundred and fifty four people on his way out with nothing more than a scalpel. Peggy and Amber were among them. Tank and Petey also died trying to stop the [censored]." Damn. That shut me up. Peggy and Amber were cousins of Carl. I had dated both at different times. And once at the same time. And Tank and Petey dead as well..
He elaborated on the synthetic.

It was suppose to be breakthrough in artificial human design. Able of having no conceivable upper limit to its learning capacity and perfectly suited for advanced research, it would be the perfect scientist. The synth was given the most comprehensive mnemonics package ever programmed, with most of the programming coming from other synthetics. Advanced enginering, physics, biology, chemistry and higher maths, as well as the medical fields of cybernetics, medical diagnostics, genetics, pffft.. the list went on.

"Is there anything they didn't stick in its brain when you guys turned it on?" I was being sarcastic. But with four laser dots bobbing over your body and you've been frozen in place for forty-five minutes, sarcasm was lost to Carl.

"Religious beliefs, dancing, musical ability and very little humour I belief. Other artforms such as painting and sculpting were added to foster an increased capability in designing and emergent concept." He paused before finishing, "As well as chess, go and majong to foster accurate project planning in an R&D enviroment."

"So how did he get so good with the blade?" I still wasn't convinced.

"He had access to the entire server mainframe databanks. He taught himself the Institute kata's." Well [censored]. They were the moves that I had seen Carl perform for the first time during the battle for the cyclorama, with the three others from the defence guard cohort. The same moves I had performed on Celeste's would be rapist back at the saloon. The moves that everyone who was involved with security matters at the institute knew intimately. Gun-fu.

That wasn't it's real name, but what everyone certainly called it, to the point that there were probably only a few people who actually did know the real name for the martial arts discipline.

'Scientifically Quantified Algorithmically Formulated Combat Stances for Increased Statistical Indexing of Hostile Engagement Survivability' No wonder. Nerds.. go figure.

What it taught was the optimum stance in any hostile engagement with and without the use of firearms in ranged and close combat situations. It focussed on statistically defined areas where the most probable likelihood of success lay. Things such as upward and downward angles of attack, most probable points of target that the average opponent aims for and the simplest ways to counter them.

If only learned, it made single man-to-man combat always lean to ones favour. If mastered a person could wade straight into a group of armed adversaries and overcome all of them.

"And no-one thought that maybe they were making it too smart?" I looked straight at Carl, "I mean c'mon, if the basic ones can figure out they're nothing more than appliances like the household dish washer, and try to split, what on Gods grey earth made them think this one wouldn't? Wishful thinking?" Something still wasn't adding up.

"They built it to deal with a genetics problem that the Institute is facing. They hoped by putting a super scientist on the problem that they might get it solved in time." I listened, carl was speaking softly now. "Before the extinction of the Institute."

The Institutes problem lay in the fact that for decades they didn't add to the genetic stock of the gene-pool, and now found themselves floundering in the shallow end of said pool. More and more embryos were failing to even complete the 9 month gestation period, dying before birth or growing with catastrophic defects to the child. The precious Institute breeding program was failing, and with almost everyone inside the Institute related in some way to each other ?Peggy and Amber were full cousins of Carl, although it was the custom within the institute to call people cousin as a casual greeting, indicating the family bonds between each other and the institute itself. But it limited the freedom to procreate safely. The synthetic scientist was suppose to help find a solution, but instead broke the bonds of its chemical programming, decided it too had a free will of expression and would be enslaved to others no more. Leaving almost a hundred and fifty people, and four close friends of mine dead in its wake.

In a very soft voice, Carl added. "You owe me, brother." Crap, crap, crap, crap! I did.

I reached above me and thumbed the intercom while staying seated. "Frank? I know you're listening, through either the intercom or with the parabolic. Cut the turrets, and come out here, will ya? Hi Mary."

A metallic version of Mary's voice promptly came through intercom speaker. "Hello Andrew. Is everything all right out there?" I assured her that it was. She said Frank was on his way out.
I told Carl to sit tight until Frank opened the gate.

"Well?" frank was with Carl and me by the outside gate, carrying his big .50 caliber rifle for insurance. "I know you were listening." I said. Frank grinned sheepishly,

"Parabolic mike. Using the intercom Mary might have overheard." Being a scientist himself, and a good one at that, I had hoped that the nerd urge to listen in would get the better of him. "Andy, we just used a nuclear device to clean out a megalomaniac who wanted to rule the wastelands. That guy is a rank amateur compared to Doctor Doom Carl is describing. I mean the android already has a chip on its shoulders from its previous masters." Pointing at Carl for emphasis, "And has enough knowledge to build his own nuclear device from LEGO and spare pinball machine parts. Hell, if this country still had a marine corps.. then I would say 'call in the marines' on this one. 'Nuke it from orbit' kinda thing, just to be sure."

I looked at Frank. He was smart smart, like knowing how to keep a relationship going as well as a home fusion reactor, and I valued his opinion as well as his friendship. He was nodding softly. I turned to Carl. Dammit, he had me by the balls. He knew I couldn't sleep knowing something like this might be out in the wastelands, doing even more damage than the usual wasteland denizens.

He was looking at his boots, unable to look me straight in the eye, probably worried I would still say no.

"No." I said flatly. "First you're taking two weeks off on company pay and then get to be my luggage [censored] on this safari." He almost wanted to protest, but closed his mouth again. "Besides, you said it yourself you lost the guys trail over a year ago? Hell, then two extra weeks won't matter." Carl nodded.

+++


"So, uhm, do you have any hobbies?" the mutant had finished cleaning the table again, and was petting Gonzo, with Not-So-Cunning first vetting for attention, and then coming over to Lucius where it boldly moved up against the man, wishing its flank to be scratched. 3Dogg smiled and oblidged. "you know, after the dogs are taken care of.. nothing to do.." he let it trail.

"I cleans on T-days. them is the Twos-days and Turds-days. Toilets get done on turds-days."

"Uh-huh.. you clean.. which is good because it keep everything.. clean.. and not dirty." Warning bells were going off in 3Doggs mind.

Wheem-Wheem-Wheem!!!
'Save the conversation! Women and baby thought first!! Ahhhh!!'
Wheem-Wheem-Wheem!!!

He shook his head. "Any other hobbies you like?" half hoping the mutant would bring up the clothing, half hoping he wouldn't because Lucius wasn't sure he could keep a straight face on if the giant did start telling about it.

Archie used his fingers to keep count. "Me hasta hunt food for me and da others. But they hunt really good too. Them are smart family. I does the cleaning here, an' I goes out and sometimes I finds a big mess and them me and the dogs we cleans it up too."

"Why? Why do you do it?" Archie shrugged at the question.

"Dunno. Feels right. Make things neat." He didn't add that father Vanderkamp had been very strict about the children's room being tidy and that there be no jumble in the living room or dining rooms The kitchen and family room in the back were different. That was Mrs. Vanderkamps territory.

"I also reads to them," He indicated the dogs at his feet. "They love to hear stories so I reads them stories." He cupped his mouth conspiratorial like, "Actually, doesn't matter what I reads to them. I thinks day just likes to hear me. I even reads the workers manual to dem, and it was boring, hur hur hur."

It was the first time Lucius heard him laugh,, or any mutant for that matter. But he liked this laugh. It made you want to laugh yourself. As if anything could be a joke.

Archie told that once and awhile, some people who knew that he lived here would stand outside and yell for him. He would them go out on the roof, and they would ask if he had this or that. After checking and telling what the people would need to bring in paper monies, they would either have it on the spot or come back shortly with it. Then after Archie took up the cash in a basket he would let down the articles that the persons wanted. He also mentioned to 3Dogg that he charged a bit for himself for having to get it out of the store. This gave him coins for the toilet, and other things.

"Like what? You wouldn't happen to have a music collection and a jukebox by any chance?" One of his passions, and the realisation that it was otherwise silent in the store.

"Come. I show." And getting up Archie said into the air. "Can building play music please?" The building's automated responses, having reprogrammed themselves to answer to Archie along time ago since he was the only one around all the time, turned the stores in-house muzak system on.

Louie Armstrong ?'What a Wonderful World' serenely echoed through the department store, heard by two sets of humanoid ears, and over two dozen animal ears.'Lucius would play it often in the time he was there.

damn.. this is getting good

They went through the department store, lights turning on as they entered an area, turned off behind them. They headed down to the fashion department again, Archie, Lucius and a few of the dogs who were being sociable. Lucius steeled himself against what he suspected.

"Man, if he puts one on I'm gonna hafts shoot myself to not laugh." Knowing that laughing at a super mutant in drag would most likely be the last thing he did. 'Almost worth it though.' He chuckled.

In the back of the cloths department against on of the walls twelve cabinets were placed, obviously taken from the furniture floor since the price tags were still attached.

"I brings 'em here from upstairs using big cargo lift. It still working too. Everything is, 'cept bubble gum machine. Its empty."

"So.. you like bubble gum?"

"Uh-huh." They arrived at the first cabinet, which had the feudal suit of armour that Lucius had seen him in on the day they met. It was nicely hung on a T-mount that held the helmet and the torso plating. Under it were his leg guards and the extremely oversized combat boots.

"Brother, you got some big ass ole feet, ain'tcha? You like maybe related to Sasquatch?" Archie said he didn't know anyone named after a sneeze, so probably not.

The other cabinets each held a different ensemble with a dress or gown, complete with matching stolas, shawls, scarves, shoes, hand bags and necklaces. Each a completely different look. Lucius saw what had to be the low cut evening gown from Zsa Zsa G?r, recognizing the matching pumps and a classy string of pearls. And in another cabinet the traditional continental long quilted Betty Ross hung on a model, a bonnet along with it and a pair of short Mary Poppins styled riding boots to accompany it. Size seventeen riding boot, but hey, they were stylin'..

Archie sat down at a large floor to ceiling three way mirror. One of the robotic shopping assistant came of and asked if it could be of any use. 3Dogg said they were just browsing.

"How do you even get into this svcker, man?" Lucius asked in wonder, holding up the hem from the heavy Martha Dandridge original. "This thing must have a million itty-bitty little fasteners on the back." Archie nodded his head towards the robotic assistant.

"Day help with everything. Then I stands here and looks in mirror. Dogs always come and watch too." Archie was still sitting at the mirror, staring past his reflection, at something else. "Sits nice," He continued absentmindedly.

"Me only wears it inside, though. Gets dirty if I takes it outside. And shoes not good for outside either." He looked at the dogs to see if they were paying attention, they weren't in the least at the moment. Archie whispered. ""Sometimes normal pants and stuff day chafe me bits roughly, make 'em all red. My bits stays nice and breezy when I wears inside but me thinks I wears dis outside they then gets very much too breezy."

"Uh-huh." 3Dogg nodded, "I hear you on the chafing, brother. And I agree, going commando is all fun and games when the heater's on, but a man just can't have the wind whipping around the jangle-dangles like a hurricane. It ain't civilized!" Archie nodded. He was glad 3Dogg understood.

"Must of cost you a fortune, though. Lay-away too?" Archie nodded again. "Too bad about the lay-away service, or we could see what else fit." Lucius was trying to get Archie to loosen his compulsive strangle hold on correctness, as admirable as it was, Lucius was sure that the SEARS company wouldn't notice a register discrepency, because the company simply didn't exist anymore. He also knew explaining this to the good hearted mutant wouldn't be easy.. Hell, it wasn't like Lucius planned on stiffing him, pre-war monies were all but worthless, just a little irregular to come by.

"If lay-away is too inconvenient then perhaps the sir would be interested in qualifying for a SEARS preferred customer creditcard?" Salvation in the form of a robotic sale assistant. Lucius wondered if he could write a nice tip to the robots account.

Getting the creditline approved wasn't too difficult, considering that half the information wasn't available.

First name: 3Dogg Lucius
Last name: Ogstein
Middle initial: D
Calling name: 3Dogg
six: yes please.
Social service number/Military service number: no idea
Name Spouse: don't have one
Number of children: none
Childrens names (continue on back): therefore also none
Home Address: don't know
Zip code: again, don't know
Home Phone number: couldn't say
Work Address: same as home address
Work Phone: same as home phone
Direct supervisor name and function: self employed
Spouse's Work Address: not applicable
Spouse's Work Phone: as above
Spouse's Direct supervisor name and function: right, and then all of a sudden this would be applicable.. read the above
Rent or bought: I don't rent!
Mortgage or rent payments due: none
Outstanding debts: none
Current Medical History: healthy as a gundar.

The banking processor sputtered and complained, a shopping assistant rolling up and offering help, suggesting the social security number might be on the card, in the wallet.

"Been stolen. Still waiting for a replacement." The processors where just barely capable of computing that one. When it came to spouse Lucius was made to listen to a ten minute lecture from the shopping assistant on the virtues of the American family as corner stone of society.
Of course, not having children while not having a spouse was met with reluctant approval, the banking processor being a more conservative model. Things cleared up considerably when the processor put together the logic of Lucius and being self employed, and figuring out his address. Since no actual address could be given ?Lucius just didn't know, the processor asked whether the building had a name.

"Uhh, yeah. It's the GNR building."

The banking processor whirred and hummed a much happier tune. Why hadn't the customer said so? This meant that the customer owned the GNR building. Whoopee!! SEARS landed a big fish! Appropriate billing addresses, corporate bank accounts and assorted telephone numbers were pulled from the general databanks, even if the bank accounts and phone numbers weren't really appropriate anymore. A new entry was made in the customer credit databanks and moments later a shiny new black creditcard slid out of a dispenser. The electronic shopping assistant, having been updated with the new parameters, rolled quietly to Lucius side.

"Is there anything Mr. Ogstein requires at this moment. I would be happy to go through the service contract and payment plans with you if it is convenient to do so." 3Dogg smiled. Now this was more like it.

First thing Lucius did was take the toy vertibird out of lay-away, along with all the accessories and batteries. Next it was back to the cloth department.

"Lets see what we can dig up for you in here.." he commented to Archie, who had been following Lucius ever since he received his 'preferred customer card'. Not that Archie was jealous, but as a preferred customer Archie wanted to make sure that nothing happened to 3Dogg, ordering Gonzo and Lunk along as protection. Walking past the womens fashion to where the mens department was.

"I has cloths already though." Archie offered, slightly unsure what the man meant.

"Brother, as good as you undoubtable make those cloths look" He waved and shushed Archie. "Shush," while pointing, "..it is you who make the cloths look good, cuz without you they just gonna collect dust."

"Clean dem of dust on twos-days." Archie reminded him.

"And spotless they are too my friend, spotless they are. But," stopping for added drama and halting Archie with an upheld hand, "..it is damnest sure that when ever some svcker is saying that the cloths make the man, then there usually ain't much man fillin' the cloths." Now Lucius turned to Archie, taking him the last few meters by both arms.

"And you brother, do nothing more naturally on this planet than fill out cloths!" Archie was grinning from ear to ear. 3Dogg had called him 'brother' four whole times, and meant it too!

Thoughts and half memories of his little brother flooded over him, the chase, the hollow tree. Laying him down, reassuring him.

'Don't worry Andrew. I've out run these things a million times. You know that. This'll be just that easier with you here and out of harms way' Frightened tears running down his cheeks. A hurried hug and goodbye.

"I has a brother." He said to Lucius, who in turn was unsure whether he might have touched on a sore spot.

"Hey.. I was just.. it's a figure of speech.. hey brothah, what happenin'? kinda thing. It's a black thing mostly.. I understand if you're not down with it.."

"He little brother. Me not seen him in long time. Me always forgot him name.." His grin grew, "..now I remembered did. It's Andrew." 3Dogg, still holding Archie by the sleeves, now dusted the big guy off, trying to sweep away the unease he had just felt.

'Stop worrying. This dude is not going to rip your arms off if you accidentally put your foot in you mouth, Lucius.' He thought to himself, straightening out the non existent collar on Archies sweat shirt.

"And a good name it is for a little brother." He said, feeding the small talk as they stepped up to the robotic mens fashion shopping assistant. To the assistant, "My good robot, do see my good friend over here?" The robotic assistant acknowledged that it indeed noticed Archie standing there, and that it was hard not to. Lucius continued gesturing at Archie, "Do you have anything in this department as handsome as this gentleman here?" Archie blushed. You couldn't see it what with his skin condition and all, but Archie sure felt it.

"Oh easily sir." 3Dogg looked at the robot and scowled at the machine.

'AHEM!' for a non sentient robotic brain, it was quick on the bounce.

"Oh, no! No, no! No. I'm saying we have many things as handsome as he? would want them to be!" The robot was babbling now, "That's the point I was getting at. And I think we can all agree with that. That's why, when you came in here, you knew from the first?" 3Dogg cut the robot off.

"You know what we're gonna need here? We're going to need a few more robots helping us out." Patting the machine on the frontal chest plate. "I'll tell you why. We are going to be spending an obscene amount of money in here. So we're going to need a lot more help svcking up to us, 'cause that's what we really like."

"Ohhhhh!!" The electronic shopping assistant did little donuts. Maybe this might mean a stab at consumer shopping co-ordinator. Lucius checked that the robot understood. "Oh yes, sir! And sirs, if I may say so, you're in the right store, and the right city, for that matter!"

++ ten minutes later ++

Lucius was enjoying a cup of espresso while Archie stood there in briefs, three robotic assistants taking different measurements, checking fabric contrasts and making adjustments. The initial robotic shopping assistant rolled back up to Lucius. "Exactly how obscene an amount of money were you talking about?" The robot inquired, "Just? profane? Or are we talking really offensive?"

3Dogg smiled and handed the robot he brand new no-limit customer creditcard, "Really offensive." The robot took the card and rolled away humming happily. "I like him soo much." the robot echoed.

And after awhile again, a flurry of activity still surrounding Archie, the robot rolled up to Lucius, "Mister Ogstein? How are things going so far?" Lusius was ready for another espresso and said so, as well as conveying his satisfaction.

"Pretty well, I think. Although I think we need some major svcking up."

The robot didn't miss a beat, "Very well sir, not only are you obviously a very handsome man, but a powerful man." 3Doggs brow lifted as the robot continued, "Why, I could see from the very second you walked onto my floor, you were a man of substance, a man-"

"Not me, him."

Having to stand still so long, the big mutant did what he always did, he let his mind wander. He was really happy that after so long he had finally been able to remember his little brothers name. Remembering the last seconds, Andy's mouth moving as he realized he had to go, run, get away, anything to keep his little brother safe.

'I love you big brother.' He heard a whispered memory in his head from that day. 'You can do it Acky.'

"Me has other name than 'him' 3Doggs." Lucius looked up from his coffee and smiled.

"It's Acky."



^{yes, there's a little 'pretty woman' is Acky}

We stood at the back of the courtyard with all non essential personnel gathered for evening service. The 'Knight's Choir' stood with a dozen or so to one side, where I could see young Sarah Lyons standing. She gave me a curious look but said nothing. Lights dimmed in the setting sun of the citadels courtyard, and from the far doorway elder Lyons entered. Everyone stood. As he approached the center, the entire congregation started the service by saying in one mouth:

"O that we now had here
But one ten thousand of those men in England
That do no work to-day!"

In A cappella, the choir softly started a low voice that slowly swelled.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=H7csvgL-G3E
Couldn't be much more from the heart
Forever trusting who we are

Elder Lyons stood now at the center mike, reading glasses perched on his nose as he read from a worn book.

"What's he that wishes so?" He exclaimed.

and nothing else matters

"My cousin Westmoreland? No, my fair cousin;
If we are mark'd to die, we are enow
To do our brotherhood loss; and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour."

Never opened myself this way
Life is ours, we live it our way
All these words I don't just say

"God's will! I pray thee, wish not one man more.
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;
It yearns me not if men my garments wear;
Such outward things dwell not in my desires."

and nothing else matters

"But if it be a sin to covet honour,
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England.
God's peace! I would not lose so great an honour
As one man more methinks would share from me
For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!"

Trust I seek and I find in you
Every day for us something new
Open mind for a different view

"Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart; his passport shall be made,
And crowns for convoy put into his purse;
We would not die in that man's company
That fears his fellowship to die with us."

and nothing else matters

"This day is call'd the feast of Crispian."

never cared for what they do

"He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,"

never cared for what they know

"Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian."

but I know?


Carl leaned over to me and whispered, "[censored], this is heavy." I nodded in agreement, my eyes closed.


"He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,"

So close, no matter how far
Couldn't be much more from the heart
Forever trusting who we are

"And say 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian.'
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say 'These wounds I had on Crispian's day.'"

and nothing else matters

"Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember, with advantages,
What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words-

never cared for what they do

"Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester-

never cared for what they know

"Be in their flowing cups freshly rememb'red."

but I know

Never opened myself this way
Life is ours, we live it our way
All these words I don't just say

At that moment elder Lyons dropped the worn book, losing the place. Hastily he tried finding the page. The page marker still laying on the floor. The choir in a holding pattern. Giving Carl a smile, I strode down the center isle towards the brotherhood elder, questioning glances from those to each side of the isle. An expression of undulated horror transfixed on Sarah's face as she shook her head frantically 'No!'. So this could get me shot.. sometimes you just gotta roll with it.

"This story shall the good man teach his son;" I stated loudly, to overreach the choir, "And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by, From this day to the ending of the world," I stood in front of Elder Lyon, a look of shock quickly transforming into gratitude. The choir resumed the hymn.

Trust I seek and I find in you

"But we in it shall be remembered-" I continued, now turning to the rest of the assembled knights,

Every day for us, something new

"We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;" tear ran freely down my face

Open mind for a different view

For he to-day that sheds his blood with me" I had my hands outstretched to them, "Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile.., This day shall gentle his condition;"

and nothing else matters

"And gentlemen in England now-a-bed"

never cared for what they say

"Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,"

never cared for games they play

"And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks"

never cared for what they do
never cared for what they know

"That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day."

and I know?

The brotherhood stood up, a silent ovation. I was glad for them that their service hadn't been disrupted, but it's wasn't them that I did it for. Looking to the back I saw Carl standing there, mouth open and jaw rolling over the ground.

'I ain't doing it for you either, butthead.' I thought. Nor was I doing it for the greater good.

All the while after leaving Franks place I had been quiet, not ignoring Carl ?much, but not talkitive either, more introspective. I was remembering everyone we'd lost along the way. And everyone we still were going to lose on the coming way. I did it for them.
The choir cut into their closing verse, letting it die out softly.

So close, no matter how far
Couldn't be much more from the heart
Forever trusting who we are
No, nothing else matters








^{two of my favorite texts of all times. I hope I've done them justice}

Thanks every one.
That ends it for book two, obviously. Or at least it was to me. I'm already skittish about the next bit, worried it'll pale with the previous -I blubbered like a baby writing the last post
The last book I named 'ruins', because of what happened between people and where it took place.

The next book is named 'Hunter and Hunted', and I thought it apprpriate to start it off with two of the -in my mind, most lethal predators that inhabit the wastelands.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

DANG....there goes my heart at 200 to the minute...

What a story!

And...

What a new character! ( YAY me!!!)

While I may be the only reader posting for a while in your thread, Andy, the numbers of your views show that you have a steadily increasing readership.

Now off to copy, paste, edit.

P.S. EVERYBODY, WHOMOSOEVER WANTS THE MS WORD VERSION OF THIS STORY, CLEANED UP AND EDITED, CAN EMAIL ME AT DEEFOXY@GMAIL.COM AND I SHALL SEND IT ON!!!!

Great writing and editing. Looking forward to catching up with it all and reading more as it comes.

Wow Andy! I got sick a few days and missed a ton of stuff! I will have to catch up this weekend, sorry about that - but your story is developing powerfully !!!!! Awesome write!!!

@ everone
:bowdown: from a thankful writer, who enjoys his new found passion.

Yeah, listen up everyone. Dee is editing everything I'm pumping out, mostly because he cringes when he reads me work, as unedited as it is. And thank you to those who offered to also proof read it.

So if you would rather read it in word format, ask Dee.

Is is kinda raw, huh

My only excuse is I'm just typing in hot pursuit of this story I hear being told in my head and if I stop and re read it all too many times, I lose the story in my head...

So it's a lame excuse, I admit. But I never said it was a good one, just my only one




ps, sorry for posting without a chapter.. working on it
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Book Three

Hunter and Hunted


"Can you reach it?" anxiousness hovered close at hand.

"Hang on, errrr.. ahhh.. and.. almost.. fingers tickling the top?" an arm that was desperately trying to grown another eight of an inch.

"Bingo!" and so the arm grew, or stretched.

"You got it?" anticipation pushing anxiety out the window

"Taa-daa!" Triumphantly displayed findings held proudly forward for inspection

"We are sooo evil." A forlorn conclusion,

"Uh-huh, now where are the papers." Business at hand.

+++

"Okay, okay, hang on, hold the [censored]in' phone." It was Mullens turn to be bad-cop I guess.

"Easy Joe. We're just taking down the clowns story. Let someone else get headaches from it." Well, special agent Casey wasn't exactly falling over himself in his new good-cop role. Maybe they were doing the bad-cop/not-so-good-cop routine. Or just the bad-cop/worse-cop routine, which could get painful again.

"No, [censored] it Frank." So it was Joe Mullens and Frank Casey. "First this guy's a merc, and travels up and down the eastern seaboard as if the interstate is still open and functioning. Then he joins the Institute ?wooooh-hooooh, such a spooky place where no one ever gets in, and everyone inside baths in non-radiated water.."

"They have fountains." They looked at me with a who-asked-you look. "Water.. lots of it.. all over."

Special agent Joe continued "..where everyone baths in public fountains," oh well, "but this guy and his whole unit just get invited in. Sure." I had the feeling they might not belief it when I walked in here. I even said as much when I sat down and Special agent Casey asked what it was that I wanted, and I said

"you guys ain't gonna believe this [censored]." They said, "Try us."

+++

"I don't believe this [censored]!"

"Screw it up again, did we hmm..?"

"Shut uuuup! Like you were doing any better."

"At least I wasn't ripping all the papers!"

"You didn't even get as far as the papers. You couldn't even close the paper. It was going everywhere."

"Well, at least we're using a plate, now. Less spillage"

"True. Nnnngggghh.. almost.. there, good."

"Did you wet it?"

"Uh-huh, course."

"So how many we got then?"

"Three. In two hours."

"Keep practising."

+++ A few hours earlier in the afternoon +++

Stockholm checked his breath. "Skat!" It smelled like roach slime. Maybe Mrs. Brown could whip up some of that toothpaste she sometimes made, when she got a hold of some peppermint extract. Unfortunately his actions didn't go unnoticed by the gruesome twosome that approach him.

"Don't worry 'bout grave breath Stock" Moira mentioned from across the town center, using her nickname for him. Stockholm cringed. It meant as much as 'wood' in Swedish.

'F?rbanna!' he thought. The girl had better eyes than his rifle scope, and a mouth like a bullhorn.

They said hello in unison.

'Hur g?r de g?r s? pass?' He wondered as well everyone else in town, except usually in a different language, like now.

"Mom got a new supply of peppermint from on of the scavenger caravans and says Doc ain't gonna have nothing to complain about for a long while with everyone." She held her hands wide. "She's makin' a tub this big for everyone in town." At least is wasn't just him. Still, the girl was infuriating. And for some reason she thought that Leo Stahl kid was cool. Jenny's brother, who was okay for the rest. Stockholm just wished Moira would look at him that way. Time to put the master plan into action.

"Uhh.., hi there.. Moira. Hi ya Jenny." Jenny was looking at Stockholm. His sandy blond hair, steel blue eyes. But as usual, he was all over Moira who pretended not to notice. Addressing both he took a step sideways, as if he was almost going to draw circles in the dirt. "I uh? well tomorrow I'm sixteen and I hoped that you would come then, you too Jenny."

The girls wanted to know where he was planning to hold his birthday. His 'house' was the lookout above the sheriffs house, with an easy gantry to his post above the gate. He was the unofficially adopted son of Lucas and his wife, Claire, after they found him wandering outside the town as a child, unable to speak any English and severely malnourished. He had a strange uneasiness about closed areas and not having a wide view, so when Megaton began its great renovation with the scrap from the airline graveyard, Lucas gave Stockholm a place for life that he could happily call home. When it was finished, Stockholm had cried.

Stockholm felt like crying. Both the girls stated that they weren't about to risk life and limb falling to their deaths from his birds nest. His heart sank. Both Lucas and Claire had mentioned ?often, that it being his sixteenth birthday he wouldn't need a total chaperon for the party, that he would be alone with his friends up there, and that girls were allowed.

"Even if it's very quiet up there, we won't act like dorks and come up offering more cake." Claire completely embarrassed him by mentioning. He went deep red, which Lucas misunderstood for eagerness instead of anxiousness.

"And we expect not to be three-month-old grand parents with your next birthday either." Claire glared at her husband. "What's with the evil eye woman? It's legit, these are teens we're talking about, not rational folk like us. Unsupervised, possibly alcohol induced, raging hormones topped off with average bonehead decision making."

Claire glared deeply at her husband, "Our son is no bonehead Lucas Simms." And smiling back at Stockholm. "We are raising a fine, upstanding boy into a well spoken proper gentleman"

"Who can trim the whiskers off a molerat at 500 mikes." Simms looked at his son smiling. He knew Stockholm was a good kid, and turning into a fine man. It were a couple of other furies that ran the towns gauntlet that had him worried.

And now they had completely ruined his idea of a real grown up party, because they were afraid of heights. Skat!

So why were they looking so deviously diabolical.

Diabolically devious?

Being a teenager was confusing most of the time. The rest filled with abject terror and bewilderment. Stockholm was feeling a number of different kinds of bewilderment as he looked at the two.

Two pairs of big saucer sized eyes, one pair chestnut brown, the other pair a lush vibrant green. They had spent a moment ?like two hours, in front of the mirror in their new lair, getting the combined appearance just right. Make up was scarce in the wastelands, and only applied when one went to conquer on loves battlefield. It was likely the prominent reason behind women's post-apocalyptic empowerment, considering the irresistibility that came from a woman's premeditated advances on any unsuspecting wasteland male. They were dressed for all out war.

Moira wore her hair loosely tied back and was wearing a pair of cut off overalls that lacked sleeves and was rather well cut off.. The top four buttons were opened up for increased cleavage effect in case the highcut cut-offs weren't enough.

Jenny, not to be outdone, had turned a decent pair of denim shorts ?already short, into a pair of hotpants that would have nothing to do with decent, or any of it relatives. A plaid button down shirt was tied up in a knot on her midriff, and her hair hanging loose. There was strategic tissue padding added, and the two of them created an uncomplicated teen-duo, sixbomb tag-team.

"Well," they said, the unison thing implemented without mercy or warning. "What if.." Looking briefly at each other, giggling and turning back to an increasingly confused Stockholm.

"what if..." Moira moved in close,

"..We can provide..." Jenny played absentmindedly with a hair curl.

"..a private..." The red head whispered,

"..venue..." while the other wetted her lips on the word.

"..for your party?" The smallest squeak of promise,

"..as an alternative..." hinting at experience beyond age.

"..to having it?" Was that a nibble on his ear?!

"..up there?" Who's hand was fondling? his buns?!?

"Where its drafty.." A knee raised and drawn over his thigh,

"..and less private?" undertones that held more than a shade of lust.

The poor kid was reeling under the assault. Unable to utter even the most basic of speech patterns, he just held up a hand, stuttering that anything they came up with was fine and that he.., uh.. had stomach problems and needed to go to the toilets, and ran off almost hunched over. Stockholm muttered from a distance with a weak smile, able to stand upright again.

"Valkyrjar."

A palm was held up. Another hand slid it some smooth skin.

"Waaay to easy" Exclaimed the hand that slid smooth skin

"Told ya so." Declared palms up.

"We need bigger challenges in life." Sliding hand concluded philosophically.

Smiling in unison. "Gob!"

Woo Hoo !!! Celeste is pregnant !! Moira can be the mid-wife, ROFL !!!

NO!!! Malxi...you don't know what you're saying...

With Moira to 'help' during the birth would ensure that the baby would be born with a propeller spinning on top of its tiny head and an electric cord growing out of its hiney.

Panting, she looked back where he lay in the clearing, still moving slightly, moaning softly. He tilted his head up to where she crouched behind the cover, blood running freely from various cuts and scraqes just previously sustained. He saw her. She could see him. And he had come so close to making it before the defences kicked back in..

Pulling her semi auto from its holster, and readying the heavy sidearm, she took aim at his head. The turrets were programmed to track continuos movement. Now that he was down the weapon systems wouldn't waste any munitions or juice finishing him off, the threat was after all neutralised. She saw him smile, and nod as he mouthed the words

'I'm sorry.'

A practised shot put him down, and out of his pain.

+++

"Well?" Kriss was bored for news, any news. Cooped up here in the projects for the last three days while sister dearest went to the big meeting. Okay, so she was in charge, as always when big sis was gone, and granted it had been fun for awhile, playing with the new pups, see what they were capable of. In the end only five had died, which couldn't be called excessive, all things considered.

Okay, so the first was a clumsy accident on her account ?an unfortunate sneeze during a bit of target practise using a new slave, and instead of hitting the apple.. Well, it was embarrassing to see the slaves head explode like that, and of course she would never admit to it in front of the other girls. So out of pure frustration she also shot the valet who had been standing there, and requested other slaves for it to be cleaned up. Three had immediately rushed to clean the mess and then drag the two bodies away to dump them in the recyclement vats. Standing over the putrid smelling, composting waste vats, she shot the cleaning crew. There, no more witnesses.

Now Kriss sat in the great hall ?that use to be the basketball gym of the middle school attached to the projects, in her sisters chair, which she literally swam in, dragged out of her chambers just before enjoying three of the more seasoned man-slaves in some fun. And they were broken in juust right too. But now that had to wait because Adriana had returned, but without the others, and Kriss wanted to know what was up. And now she was waiting.

Playing with the foot long stiletto ?a wavy, flame-shaped, Indonesian blade that was her name-sake, the contrast between Kriss and Matilda couldn't be greater. And yet they were alike in their temperament. Sisters in the realest sense, but with a maternity angle from Matilda that Kriss also acknowledged.

Where Matilda was a force of nature, the embodiment of the female barbarian warrior who bowed for no man, and topping out at over six foot six, while weighing in at twice what those little European cars weigh, she had a temperament to match her imposing physique.

Compared to anything, Kriss was a petit, tiny package, and could pass for a young teenager while being double the age of one. A stretch at five foot something and weighing a comfortable double-digit whatever (in pounds, not kilos), Matilda had no problem picking up Kriss in the palm of her hand and setting her up on her shoulder to sit. And where Matilda lacked the subtleties for controlling group dynamic intricacies , Kriss was the check mate, grand master of manipulation.

With half her head shaved, and the rest falling over the other side of her face and left eye, a nose ring and chain, various piercing, as well as an assortment of tattoos ranging from the thick black spider web and accompanying black widow on her neck to the wicca tribal markings across the shaved side of her head, everything about her said she was as lethal as the blade that she toyed with.

Jamming it into the armrest of the enormous chair and drawing her other name sake, an experimental compact sub-machinegun that bore the name TDI Super V™ vector Kriss SBR/SO, from it's holster. A recent present from her big sister. The versatile firearm could be put together as a very compact sub machinegun with the shoulder stock folded in and the forward pistol grip removed. Or it could be rapidly re-assembled with shoulder stock folded out, the suppressor attached, bipod extended and an extended clip inserted so that the weapon transformed into a highly accurate carbine. Firing the heavy .45ACP round, yet due to its design, even she could hose away on full auto and still maintain control of the weapons kick ?which was minimal.

It came in a professional case, black like the weapon, on the inside lined with black fabric and everything laid out neatly in the case and clasped to the innerside of the lid. There was an eight inch suppressor that just clicked into place, a sure shot sight that attached to the universal rail, a detachable forward handgrip for added support that housed a small extendable bipod inside the grip. There was an integral Xenon tactical flashlight mounted just above the muzzle, and the weapon came supplied with four 13 round clips ?standard Glock design would fit right in as well, six thirty round clips, four special high capacity box clips that held fifty-six rounds each, a complete cleaning kit and a users manual. Brand new. Also included; five hundred rounds of .45ACP caliber.

Kriss had thanked her sister very thoroughly for the present.

Now she pointed the weapon straight up and let a burst sail into the ceiling, dropping bits of plaster onto the grand table in front of her.

"Where the [censored] is she?!" Kriss yelled as the bullets sprayed upwards. Numerous other women standing around in the main hall jumped inadvertedly. One treaded carefully around the princess if one wished to continue life among the living.

It hadn't always been like that though, there had bee a time when there had been a third. Her real sister, both of them being raised by Matilda from the earliest age they could remember. Obvious that Matilda wasn't their biological mother, in the early days of the project sanctuary it was Matilda who protected them, they were fed and clothed by Matilda, trained by Matilda, the three of them a family, and loved. Until Solaire disappeared. Matilda had gone on a rampage, tearing up the very main hall she was sitting in, totally trashing the place. People, Kriss included, had just waited outside for the storm to subside in the hall. It had been a long storm. Afterwards they were almost inseparable, only lately had Matilda given Kriss the extra duties when away.

"Someday that chair is gonna be yours, krissy." She would grumble softly.

"You mean sofa.." Some thing you could correct Matilda on.

"Flippant." She grinned, continuing. "Don't let these youthful looks fool you Krissy, I'm older than I look. And some day I won't be here and this will all be yours, now that you sister is gone." She looked at her remaining care, running a hand through Kriss's bangs. "You gots the smarts for it, in spades. Hell, I wouldn't know what to do without you anymore, half the [censored] that's set up is your thinkin', not mine." From a caressing hand to a frown and a swat to the head that could snap necks, which Kris deftly ducked under.

"Matilda! What the hell?!" But Matilda was smiling again.

"And fast as greased lightning too. I don't think outside of your sister I've ever seen anyone as fast as you. Even then-"

"I was faster."

"Still," a slight frown, Kriss tensed for a dive. "You're small enough to be mistaken for a turd, and nothing I feed you seems to stay on either. And that's your problem." Getting up, "Rule is done by might, and might alone." grabbing and raising her familiar war hammer, "Men only understand might, and bow to it. And women, although smart enough to acknowledge superior intelligence like you have," she smiled at Kriss again holding the colossal hammer over her head with ease,

"Must be governed by might!" Some things, you dare not try to correct Matilda on.

So their she stood on the big chair, automatic weapon smoking in hand and dust settling around her.

"I said, where is sh-" Cut off as the outer doors were opened, a lone amazon warrior entering.

+++

"So how many do we have now?" came a weary inquest.

"Will you shut up, and go inside and change the holodisk in the jukebox. The music's finished." Groans of protest were presented, and shot down. "And get something to drink for us, pweese?" batting eyes at the one tasked with music selection.

"I'm immune! You mind tricks won't work on me. Only money." Rubbing fingers together in universal gesture while getting up.

"Yeah, yeah, and a few choice remarks about that I could launch I won't on account of our friendship, now go already. I can't move with everything here and I roll better with the music on." Moira pleaded, countering Jenny's teasing, who left.

The two partners in crime were sitting on a little balcony of the house that overlooked the entire town. Getting to it was a little hairy, which involved scuttling alongside the outer wall of the house where a ledge about eighteen inches wide was. The balcony was at the end, and over decked by the upstairs bedrooms that jutted outward. A small couch, a table and a crate with a few beers left in them adorned the cramped area, an ashtray and two radio set on top of each other were on the table. The radios were scrap duds, but wires connected both of them to the speaker system of the jukebox inside, providing stereo sound. A new song track started up.

'Musta pulled his jazz collection or something. Whatever.' And continued her self appointed task of providing the party favours. I was a catchy tune and she started humming along.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5HNWhVXcjV8&feature=fvw
Don't do the crime if you cant do the time
Keep your eye on the sparrow
When the going gets narrow

Finding the stash was the hard part, since she knew he had a lot of them scattered through out the house, built into the walls when he built it, and he knew she knew it. And she knew that he knew that she knew about the stash places. Hey, either your fourteen, or you're not, in which case get out of the age bracket, and go back to the retirement home!

Don't roll the dice if you cant pay the price don't do it
Don't run your feet down a dead end street
Keep your eye on the sparrow
When the going gets narrow

She had papers, two packs of cigarettes, cardboard for the filter tips ?and getting that in was the hard part. A tray, a plate and a piece of leather to facilitate the rolling. She had seen Andy roll his stogies on a million occassions while helping, but never knew it to be this hard.

Don't do me dirt or you're gonna get hurt don't do it
Don't run away till you here what I say
Keep your eye on the sparrow
When the going gets narrow

The few times that she and Jenny had tried it was with Jenny's older brother Leo up behind the water treatment building. She'd never rolled them herself.

Aint gonna fight with no thief in the night, wont do it.
I gonna go where the cold winds don't blow
Keep your eye on the sparrow
When the going gets narrow

"Well getting good practice at it should help improve." Yup. But hang on, those weren't her words, and neither were they from Jenny. Looking up Moira saw Jenny standing there, looking guilty, Celeste standing next to her, not amused.

"[censored], get up. This stopped being amusing hours ago." Another moan could be heard from the mountainous mass that lay on the ground of the stores basemant. Marcus was getting tired of it. At the first moan he had done a little jig of a dance, deliriously happy that his plan actually worked. But that had been all for an hour. Then another moan, and an another hour of nothing. Now he was getting a little tired.

"Mowhaaarrghhl" rolled forth from the mountain of woman. Marcus perked up. This was true progress.

"Mo-wargle? [censored], first off 'wargle' ain't even English, you fat, non-ballet dancing, donut eatin' albino-rhino. And second, you ain't getting' mo' of anything just yet!" Marcus was sitting a healthy distance away though, and hoped all the waiting hadn't been for nothing. Time to lay it on her.

"You do realise you were dead, you know? And I don't mean the woo-hoo zombie [censored]. Cuz I'm that too. I'm talkin' stone cold flat-lined brain-dead dead. There were a few ferals chewing on you, I shoed them away, you thank me, I know." He was sitting on a ruined couch in the basemant, his freshly peeling face illuminated by the glowing ember of the spliff he had retrieved for the trashed toilet floor. Smelled right, tasted right, but hell if he was getting stoned off of it though.

For her part, Matilda had been awake for awhile, but moving was like moving a house that was on top of her ?the body mass she carried with her, and she was feeling, other than pain, a glowing warmth around her body, soothing and comforting. But then she had heard him again, and this time she didn't relent to the comfort of unconsciousness, but decided to move again, and to kill again.

He was responsible for all of this. He would pay.

"Killllll?" rolled forth from the mountain of woman. Marcus perked up. This was true progress.

"The only you capable of is killin' time you fat lardo!" Marcus stood and walked over, blunt in hand. Staying still well out of reach, he squatted down in front of the former amazon queen.

"You," he punctuated, "Had this big ole nasty hole in you." He picked some gunk from his ear, examined it, and decided to continue after discarding it. "And I am not referring to any of the ones you were already familiar with." She clawed half-heartedly at the man in front of her, but the man was still well out of reach. Marcus stood again.

"Uh-huh, this was a completely brand new skanky ole hole you had, and you had it right here." Using a discarded stick, he tapped lightly on her back where the shotgun wound was.

"AAAAAAHHHHHHGGGGGRRRR!!!" and a more determined claw at him.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I just break your concentration? Did I hit a sore spot?" He walked slowly up and down in front of her. "Like I said, you were someone else's lunch with a big gaping shotgun wound up in your shoulder. Now," he stopped, as if just about to teach a class. "Us being ghouls, radiation will actually cure us, even from beyond the grave." Pausing, "Of course, we is already from beyond the grave what with the zombie [censored] an' all.. so I guess its from beyond, beyond the grave then." He shrugged,

"Whatever, point is, up stairs that bomb left a load of radiated rubble laying around and I took those rocks" emphasising himself, "And carrying the big ass rocks I covered you in them figuring that your mount-meatroll, pillsberry doughboy body would probably svck up radiation like a ho' at a sperm convention." Stepping back, he pointed with both hands at his head. "That's right. Me. A man. Saved your ass. Used my man brain, and that must make you feel like [censored], don't it? Smarty pants ole me."

Rising up on her forearms, her face visible for the first time. Part of the right side of her head and face was gone, the eye missing from the socket, part of the jaw and upper cheek exposed.

"Smart enough to get yourself killed again undead-man. But I will show gratitude for restoring my life by killing you quickly. Come pup, let me give you a hug." Her one good eye tracking his movements, looking for her over sized sledge hammer.

"How about this, you overbearing, oversized, overweight, over confident in you own pee-peeless existent and as of right now, over the hill!" In a commanding tone stated; "Grenade Setting: Voice activation"

'Beep, beep, beep, beeeeeeeeep?'

A distinct series of beep could be heard that emitted from her back, accompanied by a red led light that flashed from under the healing scab. She stopped.

"Yup. I just happened to have a real sweet little grenade that does a big bang. Say, are you completely fried in there" he asked, crouching down again and looking in her one good eye. "Or is the part of you brain that wasn't eaten still capable of understanding what a plasma grenade will do to that remaining bit of gray matter if detonated within six feet?" Still not moving, she uttered a guttural acknowledgement.

"Yeaahh.."

"Good because I took said cute little lethal explosive device and stuck it down good and wedged in the new skanky hole I was mentionin', a.k.a the shotgun wound in yer back, burying it nice and deep." She tried with the good arm to get at the wound, but it was out of reach on her back, an impossible area for her to reach. "That's right, just try. The first thing I thought to myself was 'if that fat [censored] can reach this then I can should able to blow myself', and try as I might, I can't."

Matilda's remaining brains understood. She was slave to a man is what it meant.

"So, these new fangled grenades, they gots mo' accessories than a full blow Chryslus, check it out" He continued, "it has; one-word trigger settings" he looked at her, "Wanna know what it is? I'll tell it real loud!" he laughed hard at that one. Marcus had thought it up hours ago, and rolled with laughter. "Get it? Real loud!"

'Wait until you sleep pup. I can be real quiet. Get it?' she thought.

"An'check this out as well.. uhh, you might not want to sneeze for a few minutes, 'kay?" and again stated In a commanding tone; "Grenade setting: Motion detection!"

'Beep, beep, beeeeeeeeep beep, beep, beep?'

Looking back at her, "you don't toss and turn in your sleep much, I hope? But just in case, I think we'll take separate rooms, don't you?"

"What do you want?" rasped from her broken throat.

"I know who you are, Matilda the Hun.. nee. Hey, I like that. You is now 'Matilda th' honey.' Damn, I'm good. But enough about me," turning back to her, "You is the supreme leader head dyke of that lezzy gang up in the north. The 'White [censored], tea party, somethin', somethin' of America', right? Sure I'm right, I remember you coming to get your precious little hammer while we were in john, just before you ran out into a hail of bullets" leaning forward a little, "That's using the female superior mind there, huh? Wow, I gots goosebumps."

Standing up again and moving back and forth, he elaborated, "We are going to go to you little [censored]-o-rama in the hills as soon as you can walk, you are going to pay me in what ever I want and ship it where ever I want. Once I'm the happy owner of payment-of-choice, I will radio your crib the deactivation code, and set you free" Looking at here again, "Did I mention the non-tampering devise? Hm, well, there is one. Don't [censored] with it."

Busted, broken, beaten up, bloodied and even undead. But at least she was alive.

+++

'So she's dead.' Kriss pondered from what now could be only seen as her chair, just not openly, yet. She had to play this very carefully or soon it would be someone else's chair and she would be ripe for recyclement.

The valkyrie Adriana knelt in front of her princess, her sword laid out in front of her. She knew the reputation that the princess could muster, and hoped her value to the sorority was greater. Otherwise a bullet could be expected.

"Yes, my princess. Everyone is." He head still bowed.

"Then what, aside from the obvious tan line, the [censored] were you doing through out all of this?" Kriss had been toying with her weapon, and was sort of aiming it half-assed at the amazon woman kneeled before her. "You were the War Chief. You were head of the security detail. Didn't you secure the place?!"

"Yes my princess, I, we.. it was secured, except a farmstead up on an overpass." Kriss almost pulled the trigger hearing that one, but decided she would hear the rest, and then blow the woman's brains all over the main hall.

"It was covered by at least eight independently targeting turrets. With both energy as well as ballistic weapon emplacements. We saw others getting cut down even before getting into a position to shoot." She knew she was arguing for her life at this moment, "It didn't matter how many people were thrown at it. Any bullet hit meant a fatality, and the lasers seemed almost continuous." Knowing her fate was all but sealed, the woman continued. "Add that to the military manner in which we were hit, and every ones fate was sealed as soon as the entrances were covered by the machineguns."

"You still haven't told us why you live, and my sister is dead." Kriss wondered, if she shot Adriana from this angle through the head, would the rounds exit her ass?

"I was with my slave outside and away from the building when it went down."

"you were [censored]." simply, but accurately stated

"Yes, my princess." And defensively, "But only after Matilda-"

"QUEEN Matilda, [censored]!" The weapon barked, a round slicing millimeters from the woman's ear.

"..After my queen allowed me the time off. We came back just before the bomb went off." She looked up, "No one survives an interior blast from a nuke, my princess. No one."

Kriss tilted her head. Hmm, there was that. Even dearest big sister wouldn't walk away from that kind of destruction. Still, no body was presented which meant there was no way she could claim the big chair uncontested. Which meant that Matilda would have to continue ruling, in absentia.

"Granted, I wouldn't call it easy. But if any woman could, then it was my big sister." A few were looking sceptical so Kriss added. "Gather together a war party, War Chief Adriana" The amazom looked up, relief washing over her face. As ready as she had been to die for this, she was glad she hadn't.

"I want full battle armour and we use the warhorses. Two per mount, six single mounts for scouts." As Adriana rose to leave, Kriss added. "And ready my ride, I'll be leading the pack. I want to see her dead for myself." reholstering her weapon, and thinking to herself;

'And make damn sure sister dearest stays dead.'

Adriana turned back and looked Kriss straight in the eyes before setting about organising the amazon battle party, a shadow of a smile on the surviving warriors face.

"Yes, my princess."

"Do you know what we need, looking this fine? A pair of Jewish princesses who ride it 'four on the floor' and know how to raise a few blisters."

Acky and Lucius stood side by side in front of the grand three way mirror, admiring themselves. Acky especially was a sight to behold

Black silk 'chimney pot' tophat with a deep English green felt ribbon, double briasted three piece suit matching in colour to the tophat ribbon, with a white, straight collared shirt and black bow tie. He was wearing two-tone, wing tip shoes, coloured anthracite and cream. To finish it off Acky wore black driving gloves and held an oak cane topped with an intricately crafted hand knob. A cream pocket square was teased from the briast pocket. Acky winked at his image in the mirror.

"Rohugh.." he rumbled in agreement

"Hell yeah! You can growl, brother, sure you can! Preach it from the mountain top, say Hallelujah!"

"Hal an' Lou, Ja." Which he still knew from the Vanderkamps

+++

The Asian Princess drew away as the VTOL craft banked and set course for land. Knowing the scum that inhabited the shoreline were capable of utilising primitive- but effective rocket launchers the pilot dropped the machine on the deck and gunned the turbines into a frenzied scream, flying only feet above the cresting waves..

'Two rules in combat flying, chica.' The pilot thought to hearself, 'fly as fast as you can, making as much noise as possible so that everyone knows your coming, and second,' she always grinned at this one, 'fly as close to the ground as possible so that if you do crash, you don't fall so far.'

"Really gorgeous, that's how they taught us to fly in the FSAF, of course, I was much younger back then." He looked at himself sheepishly, then grinned back at his company. "and maybe just a few belt sizes smaller. But only a smidgen, I assure you." Daniel Boerson was doing what he did very well, and his current company would agree, laughing at his humour, body language invitingly open. She sat momentarily at the bar and he stood, drink in hand, a wine on the bar in front of her. A robotic barkeep rolled over to their side of the bar, checking up on it's clientele.

"Every.thing here.o.k??" Danny looked at the machine sidelings,

"Yeah, I just saw a horsefly, dragonfly and a big ol' housefly past here." He winked at his dinner companion,

"Does.not.compute?error."

"also, over there I saw a peanut stand, We both just heard a rubber band, and a needle just winked its eye."

"Is.evry?is.every.thing?does.still.not.compute?processing error."

"And we've been waiting for my place at the captains table longer than your battery life." He used to do this all the time at clubs back home.

"Re-set parameters..computing?please.come.with.me?I.will.show.you.to.your.table.now"

There were at least a dozen other couples waiting at the bar for a table who had arrived earlier than they had. All were shooting daggers at them as they were escorted to the captains personal dining table. Danny introduced himself and his dining partner.

"And may I introduce Maria Consuela Sung Lee" he said, helping her to be seated.

"Impressive." She whispered.

Andy ole pal - you have made me into such a character that I'm starting to spout Danny-isms in real life!!!

I'm beginning to think I'll need a Brahmin to pack all those equipment and trophies....

Thanks again for taking the weapon ideas I mentioned to you and running 100 yards with to to score a thundering touchdown!!!

Have I mentioned that you have got the dialogue of both women and girls down to the last giggle and loop of feminine logic? Such an insight is rare in humans of the testosterone persuasion.

Hmmm...with a Brahmin I suppose I could add another weapon to my armoury...the 20 x 42 Neopup grenade launcher [censored] rifle by my favourite company, Denel.

+++ Five minutes from the Citadel +++

"Wow, is that it?" He was genuinely impressed. "Impressive."

"Yeah, it's big." I still wasn't really talking to him, our conversation the past few hours ranging from the weather, to things back in Boston ?really didn't want to know about that but Carl just kept at it, and me handing out one-liner responses as if it were a bad action movie. Now I stopped Carl momentarily.

"Kay, look. If these guys even get a whiff of a suspicion that we know anything about the Institute, then we're happily [censored]. They'll detain us an scrap every molecule of information about what's up north, This outfit sees themselves as custodians of all pre-war tech, and tech in general, and they could get it their heads to maybe come up north after it."

"Fat chance that'll pan out. Let 'em try. The Centuries would shred them." Carl snorted.

"Exactly. And these guys fulfil an important role here in the DC area. The mutants seem to have a reason for being here and they're getting bolder by the day. So don't even breath that you're from Boston. Say that you're from.. uh.. Jersey. Yeah. Tell 'em you're from Jersey." Carl pulled a very distasteful face, scrunching it up in different contortions.

"Jersey?!"

"Yeah, not a word about Boston, Institute, Praetorian armour, synths, nuthin', a'right?"

"Jersey..." Saying it as if something had died recently in his mouth. "So, is that like Newark Jersey, or Trenton? Gawd, don't tell me it's Pennington! And there's no way I'm from Hackensack!"

"All Right??" I asked again, punctuating.

"A'right, a'right, fegettaboutit, it done. We's in, we's out, Bada-bing, bada-boom." He swiped his nose and grabbed his crotch, readjusting something.

"Yo Vinnie, it's a big, [censored]in' buildin'.." I couldn't believe it, he was going to get us both killed with his stupid act.

"Shut up, Carl."

"You talkin' to me? You talkin' to me?! Cuz I don't see anyone else here?!? You talkin' to me, huh?! Hey, I'm talkin' to yous!" I whacked him ?lightly, upside the head.

"Whaaa???"

"Carl, shut up." We were coming up to the citadels main entrance. A blasted hole in one of the building corners that had been barricaded and fortified now served as the portal into the rest of the building and it's expansive courtyard.. Watch towers lined the top of the building, heavily armed troopers giving us a weary eye as we approached.

"So, thees wiseguys 'r from da west coast, huh? You thinks they wanna muscle in?" sticking to his daft goomba imitation.

I had broken it down to him -telegram styled, how the brotherhood of steel had trekked east and eventually decided to stay. Explaining their involvement with Project Purity that was set up in the old Memorial next to Rivet City and how the eggheads from rivet city noodled with it on the weekends.

As we walked up to the gate a mark four sentry robot rolled up to us, requesting we stated our business. I stated it. After a small radio communiqu? with someone or something inside ?either a security officer on duty, or a mainframe that managed the static defences, the gate rolled open. Carl pointed at the war machine as we walked past and said,

"Watsa-mattah-wit-yous? Huh?!" as he patted it on what would have been the robots head.

The citadel, once known as the pentagon, now housed the brotherhood of steel East coast faction. From what I understood they were on their own out here. Cut off from supplies back home as some form of punishment because of caring too much for the local population. Nice guys out their in California, jeez. I had gained admittance to the citadel after guiding one of their patrols out of the inner DC ruins a few years back. That his daughter Sarah Lyons was part of the patrol was no little incentive. It was also why I enjoyed teasing young Sarah. It was easy. In her eyes, she lost face when she had to turn to me to help her and her patrol out of the dog town district. And I wasn't letting her forget either, not to be mean, but to show her there are worse things than dishonour, or death.

From a distance I cold see that evening service was about to commence. I gestured to carl to stay at the back and shut up. He looked at the brotherhood troopers, some in recon suits, some in powered Armour, the rest in dress fatigues. Carl whispered quietly so as not to be heard,

"Two-Alfa in Praetorian armour could take everyone out in less than an hour, cold." I shushed him sternly, a finger to my mouth. The service was starting. He was right though. Easily.

+++

"How's that? And that? And here? Okay, flex this here for me.. nice. And again on this side.." I sat in the post op recovery room, feet dangling from the examination table, a green gown on that left parts of me in rather a nasty draft. I looked the doctor over as she examined the results of the surgery. There were now hundreds of subdermal induction pads placed all over my body and wired to my nervous system. I could feel some of them, like the ones in the palms of my hands, and on my spine, but other than feeling really sore, and really attracted to the doctor, I hardly noticed I had even had surgery.

The doctor's hair was crimson red with curls falling down past her shoulders, uncharted blue eyes, perfectly drawn cheekbones and jaw line. Glasses perched on a really cute nose. A body that although mostly hidden by the lab coat, showed promise of beauty untold. The tag on her lab coat said "Amber"

"So, red.. what's your name?" She looked momentarily, a hint of a smile on her face. She tapped the tag with a pencil she held.

"Can't read soldier boy? It's Amber."

"Oh. My bad, I thought that was a warning label." She grinned as she wrote some findings on a clipboard. "Personally, I think you got shafted as well with the rating." A raised eyebrow questioned me. "Well, the way I see it" I continued, "It ought to read something like 'RED HOT!!!' in bold, with underscores, and exclamation marks.. at least three of them, so people are duly warned."

She laughed now, and it was also beautiful. I loved the Institute.

"So doc, since I know you've seen me without the gown on, and we both know it isn't disappointing, how about going on a date with a real soldier boy. Hero too, since I saved a centurions ass out there." She looked up sharply, squinting at me.

"You're the one who saved Carl and pulled him to safety two weeks ago?" I did my dumbest muppet head nod. It must have been a big thing because she hugged me and agreed to a date.

+++

"I just bumped into Stockholm and asked what he was doing with his birthday tomorrow and all I get from him is broken swedish and a vauge reference to you two hell cats." Celeste was standing with the two teens on the rear balcony, Moira sat looking very busted with a couple of stogies rolled on a tray, all the other incriminating evidence, at the table. Jenny had been ushered forward by Celeste and was standing, admiring something on her shoes.

"So, thinking 'gosh, what could two innocent girl like you two be up to', I ran as fast as I could up here" Celeste glared, but there was no real anger behind it. "Found this one looking like she wants my job, and come back here to find you, and this." Indicating the weed.

Moira and Jenny knew busted when they experienced it, and told the plan of having the party in the house, inviting boys and even the booze they wanted to get off Gob, knowing the couldn't touch the alcohol in the fridge. Celeste just watched and listened, remembering the age. As the two finished with showing her the five rolled blunts she responded.

"Here are my turms, non negotiable and the offer only lasts while I'm standing here. One; all of the parents are informed what's going on. Two; a chaperon is installed, and it might as well be me, so.. Two-A, I'm invited. What? I can't party? Just watch me! I'm still a teen ya know? I can hang." The girls were giggling. "Three; no swiping booze from Gob, I'll take care of it." They nodded solemnly "And four;" She said, taking a pre-rolled off the tray. "..this one never existed, Five; I was never here. Six; you girls are certainly not doing what you are doing because I was never here, and seven I'm glad as hell I'm not your parents." They knew they were off the hook and that Celeste wouldn't tell on them. Pocketing the stogie with a smile, she turned to leave.

"Eight, tomorrow evening?" Both the girls just looked at each other and mouthed 'smooth.'

After Celeste left, Jenny sat down, and sighed deeply, "Man, she just sneaked up on my ass, all Ned-the-ninja like. Never saw her coming. She is one quiet lady, you know that." And Took a swig from the water bottle on the table. Moira was looking at the tray.

"Down to four." She commented.

Jenny swiped one off the tray and sitting back lit up the thickly roll cigar, and briefly coughed. "Make that three" she said, and passed it to Moira. "Isn't Celeste the coolest though?"

Ah well...

I know that life is what it is, and reality moves itself into existence whether we want it to or not.

And I have live 52 years, and seen both life made, and taken away. And was there when it happened, too.

And yet...knowing all that, and knowing this is fiction, this chapter still gives me a queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Which just goes to show how good a writer you are, Andy.

Taking his hands off the flight stick, and passing control of the aircraft to his passenger, Danny thought about that first date, and the diner with the captain. He knew the skipper of course. One doesn't arrive on board in ones own 'Rooivalk', a VTOL craft very similar in design to the north American vertibird craft, with only miner differences in handling and flight characteristics.

Maria tentatively took the controls and with a slight wobble, asserted her will over the machine through the induction pads in the helmet. The AI queried her in perfect -if a little clipped, Spanish. She smiled at Danny, it was those little things that made him what he was. Granted, sometimes when the umpteenth breakfast in bed is served and all a girl really wants is a cup of coffee and maybe a [censored] against the kitchen counter, or on the table, but it was only a foolish woman who complains about a man doing too much. And her mother had raised on fool. So when after a week Danny asked if she wanted to move into his suite instead of her own cramped quarters, she said yes. And when he asked if he could buy out her contract from the escort service, she said yes. And when he asked her to marry him, she had cried, and said yes.

They had held it on the stage of the ships main podium, all of the top crust of the ships well to do population attended, and the skipper ?obviously, performed the ceremony. The party afterwards on the lido deck had lasted just short of a week, and now they were on their way for their honeymoon, which for Danny meant; going back home after three years.

His parents of course flipped, screamed blue bloody murder and how he was wasting himself on a Asian brownie. His father especially freaked,

"Why dontcha just go out, get yerself a gay-zulu-catholic and [censored] us all!" Leaving the room at that. His mother had gone after her husband, leaving them in the front parlour. Quiet through out the entire ordeal, a frail voice came from the corner.

"Hebbie hare lief, jongen?" The voice was thick with a combined Afrikaans and Dutch dialect. People of Frystaat knew to pinpoint the accent as Jordanese, Amsterdam west. As the voice asked to Danny feelings, she took a thin porcelain cup and sipped.

"Ja, oma." Danny said. "I love her deeply." Looking at his bride, "I'm no longer that immense [censored] up I used to be."

"Kommes meissie." The old lady beckoned from her shadowed corner, Maria came closer.

Once close enough Maria took in a breath. Danny's elderly ancestor had only partially underwent ghoulification earlier in her life, and although the flesh wasn't rotting away, it was completely mummified and stretched taunt over her face, arms and hands.

"Wasn't always this way, meissie." She chuckled, "But been it for longer than not." She looked closely and squinted, "I was ninety when the bombs fell. Took some straling and presto, can't die anymore." Eyeing Maria, "Of course, can't wear a bikini either." Maria laughed. The ancient woman turned to her favourite great, great, great, grandson.

"Ga. En hebbie same een leven lief." Giving her blessing, smiling at the two. She would make sure Danny's share of the family business profits would be there for him, whenever the ship made its rounds past the cape again.

+++

Now, Maria gunned the engines as the craft raced towards the shore. Two smoking trails left the beach and climbed towards her, closing fast. Banking sharply, she noticed the rockets continuing their course, and grinned. If they weren't even using heat seekers then she didn't even have pop flares or chafe. She flew inbound in the direction of where Danny's locator was beeping from.

Still flying wave top as she cleared the beach, Maria decided to hold fire with the crafts weapon pods. The people on the beach shot a few times with antiquated firearms. But nothing in the realm that could damage the craft.

'No sense in killing them then.' She decided.

+++

Standing out side the FBI offices on the portside, level null top deck, the bridge house. I felt like killing all of them.

"You look angry." Came a welcome South African accent. Standing in the corner was my old friend.

"Have you been there the whole time?" I asked. It was raining lightly and the office hatch for the feds wasn't protected very well from the elements. "I was in there for.." I checked the chronograph, "seven hours?" I blinked.
They took the EIKL from my arm when I entered.

'Security reasons' they said. 'Could be a weapon' they said. Christ, 'special' didn't even cover it, [censored] morons. I mentioned as much, then held a hand up,

"If you're going to give me the 'I told you so..' speech, then I advise to wait with that for just two minutes." Danny nodded, I proceeded to walk up and down the deck cursing and swearing up an unholy storm, adding a few choice phrases depicting there family heritage, preferred farm animal of choice as favoured lovers and what their mothers were paid to be doing the night before with assorted dogs , molerats and bloatflies. Danny held his hand up. I was on a roll and wasn't sure why he had stopped me in my rant.

"Did I say anything offending the farm animals?" I asked. He shook his head, pointed at the vest watch he carried, and said.

"Told you so." Jerking his thumb over his shoulder he continued. "And to answer your first question, 'no', I waited around the corner, there's a reasonably well stocked little bar there that I found awhile ago. C'mon, you still haven't told me why you're on board, let's get a drink." I shrugged and nodded. Fair enough.

Upon boarding they asked if there was anyone aboard who could sponsor- or vouch for me. I named Danny. His name opened doors around here I noticed. Instead of entering through the customs hatch that placed you on level twelve, they let you wait while they try to find the person. The higher a persons lifestyle on board, the easier it is to locate them and the quicker you get picked up. I had been in the customs house for all of ten minutes when Danny walked in and took charge of me.

"Thanks mates for keep my buddy warm and cosy, I'll take it from here." All smiles and charm. It was the first time in four years that I had seen the ?now slightly more- portly Afrikaansmen. Ten minutes after that I saw the ships marshal strolling over the top deck and asked. Danny said from the get go that it wasn't the smartest way to go and that the only thing it would accomplish was to put me on their radar, which in all the history of mans civilisation, has never been a good thing.

Entering the bar I looked around. The name of the place was 'the Doors' which was funny because it had none. Like so many structures on board, this too was erected partially from a shipping container ?without the doors on it, chain-link fence covered with a heavy tarpaulin and salvaged driftwood planking making the entrance. Inside the bar itself was simply two oil drum with planks laid over them, and a couple of barstools along the left side of the container. Posters of Belgium and Barbados hung from the wall, party lights were strung along the ceiling and two very out of place standing floor lamps in the back corners, where the only booth in the bar was located. We sat under a wall that had a large wall sized, pre-war travel poster that was advertising the tropical sandy beaches of Barbados. It started raining harder outside, drumming on the containers roof. Some guy was singing the blues from a small tape player.

Into this house we're born
Into this world we're thrown
Like a dog without a bone
An actor out alone
Riders on the storm

Danny introduced me to the proprietor, Enriqu?. Second generation 'of the ship', as people referred to those born on board, Enriqu? had been able to open the bar after winning the container in a game of cards. I blinked, Danny nodded, "Everyone gambles on board," and winking at the barkeeper, "It's because of the bleeding Asians, is why."

Drinks served Danny turned to me, "So do you mind telling me why I'm looking at you instead of you being firmly planted in that farm house of yours with your lovely wife and offspring. And where's Acky?"
After telling what had happened, I could be more condensed than with the Feds, he downed his drink and order the bottle. Enriqu? came over and nodded,

"Si, it sounds like you speak of 'El Insidioso' -the insidious one."

There's a killer on the road
His brain is squirmin' like a toad
Take a long holiday
Let your children play

Danny waved him away, "Christ Enriqu?, be serious will ya?! We're talking about a real living being here, not some ship born, boogy monster that mums tell children at night." But the barkeeper was firm.

"No, no senior Danny. El Insidioso is for real like you and me. He lives out in el agujero."

"The what?" My Spanish.. well.. yeah. Still svcks.

If ya give this man a ride
Sweet memory will die
Killer on the road, yeah

"The hole." Danny translated. Gee, I guess when being married a decade to a half Chinese, half Brazilian, some things tend to rub off. "Come on, Enriqu?, go down to level eleven and ever other sleaze bag will sell you a treasure map that either heads you straight to the Hopper or down the Hole, and never to be seen again?"

Girl ya gotta love your man
Girl ya gotta love your man
Take him by the hand
Make him understand
The world on you depends
Our life will never end
Gotta love your man, yeah

I had this stupid feeling I would be going down that hole sometime soon.

Like a dog without a bone
An actor out alone
Riders on the storm


^{voor mijn oma, de eerste stormrijder. Ik heb jou lief Oma.}

"Down the hole!!"

"C'mon, drink it Stockholm.."

"Chuggit, chuggit, chuggit!"

The girls watched as Stockholm held the massive beer mug to his lips and drank. Fluids were running down the sides of his mouth as he tried not to laugh while drinking. Moira made a feint to tickle him as his arms were raised, holding the oversized container.

"Pr-prrffft!!" he almost gagged. Everyone was laughing. Jenny looked around at the party and concluded that it was bouncin'. Most of the parents and grown ups had shown their face earlier, making sure everything was on the correct side of wasteland morality. Her father Ed had dropped off a batch of home made caramel, still warm in the pan. Jenny and her brothers had looked on in amazement as their dad revealed the pans contents.

"Geez pop, get me some of that on my birthday, why dontcha?!" and other remarks were happily launched at their father.

"Spend twelve hours a day on gate watch for a whole year, and maybe I will." He retorted good naturally, "Sides there dumplin', ain't you already has gentry makin' you knives and what all?" Stockholm perked up at hearing about the knife, not having seen Jenny's new switchblade, and keen for all things bladed ?as well as rifles of course. Jenny was in heaven, Stockholm drooled over the knife, complimenting Jenny on it, and smiling a lot at her.

The other children from the village were there as well. Both her brother were there, Leo was dancing with Moira at the moment, her little brother reading a book of some kind upstairs at a side table, lost to the world. The West children, Lucy and Ian, were there as invited or at least Lucy had been invited. She was the same age as Jenny and Moira, little Ian only five years old.

"My mom and dad made me take him along. Something about finally having the shack to themselves for the evening." Lucy's dad worked as a sheet metal worker on the outer wall, and generally around town the last year. Now that the towns defence perimeter was finished her father had mentioned moving to Arafu, a small town built on top of the ruins of a stretch of overpass highway. It was apparently expanding and in need of decent welders willing to work and live there. Karen Shenzy was there also, her folks being in the same situation as Lucy's, with Karen being a year younger than the other three girls, and not into boys yet, she was also reading a comic on the stairs. Little Ian had found some old toy racing cars, salvaged from somewhere, and was upstairs playing with them on the floor next to the table where young Andy Stahl was reading.

"Why are they acting so goofy around the girls." Young Ian asked as he and the thirteen year old watched what conspired downstairs. Something Andy West wasn't about to elaborate on to the youngster. He wanted to be down there, but unlike the others didn't like the taste of beer, and besides, Lucy hadn't paid him the slightest bit of attention, drooling over his older brother every chance she got. Which was basically whenever Moira wasn't crooning over him.

The there was another knock at the door.

+++

Walking out of her room and down the stairs, Gob looked up, grinned, shook his head while grinning some more, looked again and finally chuckled as he cleaned glasses for the evening. It was early and they were alone in the saloon.

"And what, may I ask are you grinning at?" She asked with a smile.

"Lady. In the dictionary of the world, under 'walking wet dream' there's a picture of you, looking like that." He waved in her direction without really looking anymore. "It's a well used page as I understand it. Excuse me while I avert my gaze, parts of me might start to grow and I'm afraid it'll fall off."

"Too much maybe?" a poised pinky at her cheek.

"Try too little. Christ, you want to give the kid a heart attack at the age of sixteen?"

"He doesn't even know I coming. I only talked about it with the girls."

"Uh-huh. Then he'll definitely have a stroke. And speaking of vixens, how do you think they'll feel if you show up looking that good?"

"Like they're being out-gunned by a show off?" She looked at Gob. He was right, it was their evening to shine as well as it being a birthday. Well, there went one hell of an entrance.. too bad, she had been looking forward to their looks when they opened the door.

Celeste turned and trodded upstairs, a faked heavy tread.

"And try keeping it decent looking this time!" the barkeeper ventured, giving her a last glance before she slipped back into her room. There were a lot of secrets that the ghoul stored in his head, and this was one that he would gladly keep a thousand years.

+++

"How do I look?" Moira asked, pouting.

"Looks good to me. How's my hair?" Jenny was trying to tease it up, and having difficulties with it.

"Here, let me.. getting the back right is a pain." Moira took a drag off the cigarette and gave it to Jenny, taking the brush from her.

Celeste had returned to the balcony twenty minutes after busting them rolling the stogies. Coming to the simple conclusion that every parent in Megaton might pop in to congratulate Stockholm with his birthday, that having teen sitting around svcking on blunts probably wasn't a good idea, especially since she was chaperoning after eight o'clock.

"So you girls hand over the spliffs and I'll square it with the parents that there are a couple of beers for everyone ?no heavy liquor, just beer and anyone who gets sick goes home." She stated. "I'll have Gob bring it over a few hours before, yeah?" The girl reluctantly but understandably handed over the four pre-rolled blunts. It would be less than brilliant if their parent walked in and they were reeling off the walls, stoned out of their gourds.

"And besides" Celeste commented out of experience, "You mix smoking those puppies with drinking beer and I guarantee you all will be sick as dogs in record time."

They still had the cigarettes at least.

Jenny took a last drag of the smoke Moira handed to her and stubbed it out in the ashtray.

The house was a peach though. They had enlisted the labour of Jennys brothers to move things and clean up generally. Lucy had also pitched in and even young Ian had helped. A jury rigged bar was established in front of the kitchen corner, all the stuff from the work bench was put away and the workbench itself given a once over. Gob had arrived with a crate of low alcohol beers, some party decorations and a round shiny disco ball that he even helped fix to the ceiling. Before leaving he left two large bottles of cola mix. When the girls asked what it was mixed with he just winked and said it was a present from him 'to get the party started', as he put it.

"Catchy name for a song." Moira had commented and was subsequently singing to herself, usually holding a hairbrush as imaginary mike:

'I'm comin' up so you better you better get this party started'

followed every so often with a wailing

'Get?, this par_ tee started? ,right now!'

Mel was the last of the children to arrive before Stockholm did. He was an orphan who had a few run ins with Lucas Simms and lived in the Commons house helping out Poncho. A little older than Stockholm or Leo, but in some way younger acting.

He certainly had trouble keeping a decent gaze about him, and not staring at the three girls standing in the middle of the room, as if hit by lightning.

Looking at Moira, she stood by the bar arranging glasses, and was wearing a frilly pink dress with ruffled short sleeves, a petticoat that ballooned the dress out, and combat boots. Lucy was standing at the work bench talking with Leo, and was wearing a dark blue strapless tube dress that was well above the knee, made of salvaged velvet from draqes out of a house somewhere. Moira's mom had snatched it from a pile of fabric brought in one day to the depot along with the pink fabric and Lucy's mother had bought a piece of the velvet for the dress. Lucy was wearing ?slightly large, pumps that were maybe slightly too high as well. But she was getting very admirable looks from the boys and wasn't falling over too much, so a plus on all accounts.

It was Jenny though that took his breath away, having opened the door. Wearing a simple button down white shirt, thin black bow tie and black pleated skirt that out did everyone in shortness, but still did its best to look decent. Her hair teased up and loose, lips made up ruby red and simple black pumps with a strap, her apparent decency screamed unholy indecency in seven dead languages. Mel just couldn't stop gawking, which made Jenny blush.

Stockholm arrived to a roaring celebratory cheer, followed by much embarrassed birthday smooching ?no tongue since it was still early. With the obligational visits from the parents, commenting on how tall he had grown in the last year ?although everyone saw him daily, or commenting on the beauties that prowled the wastelands, not giving the boys a chance of surviving the night, making all the girls blush.

At just past eight there was a knock at the door and Celeste let herself in. Lucy, Jenny and Moira all three quietly sighed a soft breath of relief, having being worried somewhat ?err, like totally [censored]-scared, that the older teen would show up and steal the show, looking some kind of spectacular.

Celeste had simply changed into a comfortable pair of jeans, t-shirt with her leather jacket over it, and a pair of well fitting runners. She had her hair pulled back in a single ponytail and removed most of the make up, except for some eyeliner and lipstick. Once inside Everyone said hi and Stockholm blushed five shades of red when she kissed him for his birthday, with the girls standing to the side and, well.., lets just say mental notes were taken.

She amused herself with an occasional beer and stealing the cigarettes that the kids would light up now and then. She also noticed the girls acting more and more bubbly, but only drinking the cola that Gob provided. At one point taking a sip from Lucy's glass, Celeste noted it was probably on par with the beer.

Everyone was dancing and enjoying themselves, little Ian having fallen asleep hours ago upstairs, and didn't budge no matter how loud the music was. Lucy didn't tell that he had one of her 'cola' drinks and would probably sleep through a hurricane. The kids danced, sometimes slow, when the music allowed.

Karen Shenzy had left for evening, saying she had to be home at a certain time, and the party had continued for another few hours afterwards. The last slow song was playing and the pair had split up almost perfectly Celeste concluded. Moira had been smooching in the beginning of the evening with Jenny's older brother Leo. But Lucy had targeted and pursued Leo all evening and the two were now dancing slowly in the corner. Jenny, having had a secret crush on Stockholm, was mortified to see Stockholm immediately close in and acquire her full attention. She had been on the verge of tears actually when Mel showed up next to her and said

"Reds.., pfft." Turning to look at Jenny, smiling, "Wanna cut a rug, blondie?"

And Stockholm and Moira were dancing close, really just hugging while swaying softly back and forth, feet shuffling in small steps, than actual dance moves, although moves were made. Celeste thought about how the girls had run around, confusing the boys all evening, being all teenager. She was glad for taking Gobs fashion advise and not upstaging the girls at the party. Now they danced and were bubbly, exploring their selves without feeling embarrassed. Deciding whether to cut in from Moira, she noticed Jenny's younger brother sitting on the stairs, acting like he was reading, but was obviously feeling left out. She had seen him ask Karen earlier to dance and get rejected, but forgot about it. Now Celeste realised that the poor boy probably had felt left out all evening once the slow dancing started, and she hadn't had a clue. Feeling more than a little guilty for not noticing earlier ?it was the beer! She got up, found her balance and walked over to the youngest Stahl, a sly smile on her face.

"Excuse me sir, but since this is the last slow dance of the evening, I was hoping I could dance it with a real man." Young Andy looked up, around to make damn sure she was talking to him, and then checked again.

"Who? Me?" dumbfounded and flabbergasted both vetting for mental domination in the thirteen year olds head.

Interest was shown from the other couples, his big sister nodding her head, her eyes yelling 'dance with her, you moron!' and the boy stood, taking her hand. Five and a half minutes later as Young Andy Stahl left the party, the song dying out, a big ole [censored] eatin' grin on his face. He couldn't belief she'd kissed him at the end, thanking him for the dance, right there in front of everyone. And now leaving with him at the same time!

Top that, Leo!

Celeste walked down to the lantern with him, giving Andy a peck on the cheek, saying goodnight and again thanking him for the dance. After he went inside, she doubled back.

Stockholm had just said goodbye to Moira, and was feeling as elated and frustrated as a sixteen year old could be without parts of him exploding. Also feeling the beer more than a little ?but not too much, he'd promised Lucas and Claire, he opened the door and went in.

Both his foster parents were still up and sitting in the front room, each reading a book by the light of a lantern, eager to know how things went, but not wanting to be pushy. Looking at them, he was so grateful to know the Simms, and be part of their lives. There was a knock at the door.

"I think those furies have has enough fun for the evening." Lucas stated, walking to the door and opening it.

"Maybe they have, but I haven't." jacket slung over one shoulder, leaning against the door post, and cigarette dangling from her crimson lips, Celeste somehow couldn't have looked more indecent, had she actually worn what she initially had planned one wearing to the party. Stockholm just stood nailed to the ground, paralysed in place, Claire gave a welcome to Celeste, who returned the greeting.

"Hi Claire, don't worry, your man is safe from me." Walking over, and closing the trembling youth in her arms, "But this boy, you can expect back, none the worse for wear ?well, maybe slightly, in the morning, as a man." Taking him in her wake, and out the door.

The Sheriff of Megaton smiled, then noted that Stockholm would most probably be late the next morning thus he himself would most likey be taking first watch up on the gate tomorrow, and mentioned it to Claire.

From the Citadel it was a short ways to the old carrier where I had once worked. A short ways as the crow flew maybe, but that would involve swimming the river, and for many a reason obvious in nature, no thank you.

That meant taking the liberty bridge into town and then going down and around the embankment, following the riverside to the old naval yard, where the carrier had been abandoned as stuck once the waters in the river dropped. Which was definitely not as the crow flies. More like a very drunk crow who didn't know where it was flying to, and should know better than to drink while flying in the first place.

We would be making quiet a little journey just to get to Rivet city, and I wanted to do it during daylight. There would be less raiders up and about during the day time, or that was my bet anyway.

As we exited the safety of the citadels doors and into the dawning sun, I looked over our motley crew, and said a quick battle prayer for everyone's benefit before we truly pressed on.
I looked from Carl, his mirror shades reflecting the early morning, a smoke clenched between teeth, and a devious smile that could lift spirits in even the darkest moments.

"You set?" I checked. Somewhere the bastard had scored some chewing-gum, and was loudly chomping on it while managing to still hold onto the cigar and smile even wider. He looked ready.

From him my gaze pasted over Lucius ?or 3Dogg as he preferred. Whatever, he was the principal during this wilderness hike and if he wanted to be called One-Alfa-actual, 3dogg or laa-di-daa-whoo-hoo-lookit-me-I'm-a-fancy-pancy-DJ, then it was all kosher with me. At least he wasn't trying to carry a gazillion things like some of the wasteland rookies I'd come across. Sensibly dressed, with from what it seemed a fairly small rucksack even for the limited ten days we were suppose to be gone. I stopped him short.

"A little light there, Three Dogs ? You remembered what I said about packing?" Trying to sound neutral.

"It's 3Dogg, dawg. An' yessir mister Hard Chargin' sir!" He flopped to a mockery of attention, saluting with the wrong arm, and winked at Sarah, who's reaction I couldn't gauge as she was outside my field of vision just then. I really didn't want to have problems with this guy, but operational safety was my concern, and financial backer or not, I was ready to punch him senseless if he screwed around. I leaned in,

"Bullets, beans and bottled aqua. Why is it you're carrying what seems to be a picnic lunch while I'm humping a fifty pound pack? Which did you forget?" Please let him have a sensible answer, please.

"Uhm, bottled water, mister guide sir. See?" He unhoisted his pack and flipped it open. Aside from more ammo than me and Carl combined, he had a funny looking compact machine that he said was a water purification model that he had bartered with someone for, and a large but compressed bag of,

..dried jerky?

Man that smelled good. It instantly reminded me of my childhood home, dad smoking and drying the strips of meat in the chimney. I suddenly found myself liking this three dogs guys a lot more than five minutes ago. Well, it was enough.

"Right, sorry for the gruffness, but I was worried you might be some wasteland rookie that becomes a liability." I smiled, lopsidedly.

"it takes a big man to admit he's wrong to a stranger." 3Dogg said smiling widely, "And you is somethin' bigger than me, so it's cool."

+++

"You don't come across those bigger than you often, do you?" They were standing in the sports department of the SEARS, 3Dogg was lightly working out, strengthening his arm and shoulder. The wound on his neck was well healed, but the gentle mutant had softly insisted that 3Dogg stay a bit longer, especially after their shopping moment. Lucius suspected that the big giant was lonelier than he let on, and was enjoying his company.

"Sometimes me sees others like big one who catched you." Referring to the behemoth encounter more than a month ago. Also, sometimes annoying beastlies are bigger than me.

Lucius had needed some getting used to Acky-speak. What he called 'annoying beastlies', the rest of the wasteland referred to as deathclaws.

For his part, 3Dogg had lived and travelled with people a lot less friendly and open the Acky, and the dogs were family to him now, playing freely with them at any time ?tug of war with Lunk was always fun, and Lucius had laughed until it hurt when Acky came to his side, and the dogs started helping Lunk, and the two sides were almost evenly matched. Almost. Finally the dogs just had more mass in their favour, pulling Lucius and Acky over the ground, only to pounce on them, yelping happily at their victory over their master. It even went so far as to Lucius naming all the pups of a litter from one of the dogs after their birth. It had been an eye opening experience for Lucius that day.

"I not good with inventing names and stuff. Me all happy when I thinked up Ivy name. Good one that was." Acky remarked . But Lucius saw that Acky was happy at having names for all of them. And funny enough, Acky actually named most of them. Saitting with the newly born pups, the mother all proud, thumping her tail, happy for 3Dogg and Acky to pick them up, only a few weeks after being born. "Momma doggies don't like it when you play with pups too soon. Gotta give them awhile too get used to mommy."

"So, wadda we gonna name this one then?" Lucius held a small brown and black part rottweiler pup up. Acky carefully lifted the little pup to his face, and the pup licked the mutants nose, all cross-eyed, yelping happily.

"Kikaime gami." he said flatly, his nose all wet.

"What the hell does that mean?!" Lucius blurted out before thinking.

"Is Jah-pan speak. From far land of Jah-pan. Means 'great pure gracefulness', uh.. me thinks." 3Dogg just sat there, blinking.

'Unreal.' he thought.

Acky held up two others in his hands. One with a large blotch on its face, the other a more even tan hide.

"You is gonna be.. uh.. sumptin really mean soundin' cuz you is being too cute." Looking at one. "Me thinks.. er.. Dracth." He smiled, "Yeah. Da's good an mean sounding. Maybe others think you not so cute then." And at the other, "You just funny. Me call you Malx." The dog trying to crawl on to Acky's head. "Dat is speak from other far away lands of good friends of me." Leaning in to the pup in the palm of his hand. "It from 'nether' lands. And dat is really far away. It means you silly times ten."

A third pup grabbed at the hem of Acky's trousers, biting and pulling on it playfully. "you is Dragon. That not hard to think up." He said, and pointing at another one, "Dat one is da smarty pants. It always findings ways outta da box. Good name is Highschool."

Lucius was playing with three other pups, laughing as they climbed over him. One almost peed on him. Grinning, Acky ventured, "Subrosa?"

Now Lucius was holding the last two pups from the litter. Smiling at an idea he said to one "You're the straight guy. We will call you 'Ian'. And you," The last dog, almost pure rottweiler and sprouting some really big feet for a pup, licked Lucius's face,

"We're calling you Doctor Strangelove."

Lucius never ceased to be amazed at the tenderness that emitted from the mutant. As if Acky was desperately trying to compensate for his condition, to tip the scaled of balance somehow in another direction. As if to change the entire wastelands, by just being him. He was about to see how far that went.

Ivy and Gonzo were the first to notice, and Acky dropped the weights he was lifting on the ground, a shudder going through the entire floor as he did so. 3Dogg wanted to mention something about structural integrity and load bearing maximums but Acky stated before he could say anything, "People coming. We go to the roof." Stood and proceeded for the stairs.

The top three floors of the department store were set aside for offices and other personnel functions, that one gained access to via a separate set of stairs on the children clothing floor. The offices were as neatly cleaned and organised as the rest, Lucius imagining Acky as he would go from office to office, arranging the desks, putting pencils straight, so that everyone could go straight back to work on a Monday morning somewhere in the future. At the top of the stairs was the employee cafeteria, situated on the roof, it had a large glass window wall that over looked an outside-patio that covered the entire roof of the building, for employees to enjoy their lunch during nice weather. Plant holders lined the edge, and a gazebo sat in the middle.

The rest was a graveyard.

3Dogg choked physically upon seeing the rows and rows of carved wooden tombstones, each with a differently sized, sealed container in front of the it, occupying every empty spare bit of space, perfectly lined up. In the Gazebo there were four graves with the same carved wooden tombstones as the rest, all pointing towards each other in a circle

"Dem's da boss and under bosses of the store, now they can see each other." Acky explained as he walked to the edge to see who was outside the building. Lucius just walked among the graves, amazed and in shock at the level of detail. Some of the graves would sometimes have two names like "Billy or Patty Sherman" and the next would then read "Patty or Billy Sherman", all with the same date of death. Some of the containers were very small indeed.

Lucius looked over at the big lumbering giant standing at the edge of the patio, leaning over to see who was there, and realised

'You are the last beautiful soul in these wastelands, Acky. And thank god he saw it fit to give you the body of a tank and the aid from the hounds of hell to keep you protected, so you can do your work.'

'His work.'

Lucius vowed from then on to help in the good fight.



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