» Sat Apr 02, 2011 3:46 am In the great hall of Ashur, Lord of the Pitt, a young woman sat with her head in her hands. The lord had been called away by urgent matters, and so the woman was left alone with her troubled thoughts.
She had come here (back here, really) intending to slay a monster. A demon who had terrorized her people for almost as long as she could remember. His followers that she met on the way up did nothing to change this impression - she'd seen their kind before, killed enough to make a necklace of their fingers if she were so inclined - and she had smiled in secret, anticipating the moment when she could drop the act and start bringing some justice, an echo of the original Scourge.
When she finally came face to face with him, he seemed polite enough, but she didn't let that fool her: even monsters could smile and lie. She hadn't expected him to see through her own lie so easily, and almost stumbled before the "distraction" Wernher had arranged interrupted their talk. After he left, she quickly went in search of the cure. She'd thought it would be in his safe, but that held only a few things and some holotapes. Even listening to them hadn't swayed her much; here was a man (yes, she finally had to admit he was just a man) who had turned from the ideals of the Brotherhood of Steel, who had fallen and been corrupted, until he came to lead the very evil he had once fought against.
(And yet, a part of her noted bitterly, hadn't she found out herself that the Brotherhood were not the noble warriors of her childhood stories? After the long journey to D.C., she'd discovered that they were really only interested in scavenging more for themselves, and those who did care for protecting others were thought by the rest to have lost their way. The ones who came closest to the tales of armored knights who came from afar to smite evil with righteous thunder... those were the real "outcasts" of their kind.)
She'd kept looking, and soon found the truth of the cure she'd been told about. And that was what left her sitting here, on the edge of one of the display stands, forced to choose between two evils. Thoughts chased themselves around and around in her head, snapping like vicious dogs.
Jessie shook her head fiercely, trying to throw off her doubts. There was no time to think about this. Out there, the slaves she'd met, that she'd come here to save, were fighting and dying. She'd just have to follow through with the original plan and work it all out later. Somehow.
She took out one of the items she'd grabbed from Ashur's safe, strapping it onto her wrist and lifting the cover over the button. When she pressed it, the world grew dim and her own body seemed to shimmer and vanish, becoming almost as clear as water. (Someone had once told her that a Stealth Boy's field only bent most of the light around her; otherwise, she wouldn't be able to see at all.) Moving as quickly as she dared, she crept back into the nursery and past the mother to the crib.
The baby monitors keened in alarm when the small life they watched was suddenly removed. Sandra whirled, just in time to see a shimmering non-shape crouched over the crib. She gasped. "Marie!" One of her hands dropped to her hip, brushing the lab coat aside and coming back up full of gun. "Give me back my baby!"
Jessie fled, bent almost double to protect the small bundle she held against her chest. She was followed by its mother's cries and the sound of gunshots. These alerted the guards in the corridor; she dodged around them before they could do more than draw their weapons, bursting through the doors at the end of the hallway.
There were more of Ashur's men out here in the foyer, on guard, and as they heard the shouts and saw the flickering blur they started shooting. None hit her, but their shots blew more chunks out of the centuries-old marble inlays and, more importantly, started Marie crying. Jessie plunged down the stairs, almost tripping in her haste, shards of stone flying off the walls and floor and railing all around her. She reached the big doors and grabbed the handle, opening one just enough for her to slip through.
Outside, the plaza was in chaos. Slaves were running all over the place, chasing down raiders with auto-axes and old pistols and other improvised weapons, while other raiders up on the walkways took shots at them. There were angry shouts and screams as men and women fell, with limbs missing or fresh bloody holes in them.
Jessie ran, across the square and into the melee, dreading the lucky shot, fearing even more the moment when the screaming squirming thing in her arms would stop screaming and go limp. Don't drop her don't crush her don't let her get hit oh God please please oh God what am I doing? She didn't dare take the ramps into Uptown proper, but stuck to the streets and alleys. Get to the mill. The mill, then Downtown. Find Midea.
Her path was blocked by a locked gate. She looked back for a moment: too many raiders back that way, including some she recognized from inside Ashur's hall, making a beeline for the almost-seen shadow that had stolen their lord's greatest treasure. Nor did she have enough time or free hands to pick the lock. She reached over her shoulder with the arm she did have, drew her shotgun, and blew the lock off, biting back a curse as the recoil almost broke her wrist. Channeling that pain and anger into action, she half-turned and body-checked the gate open with her shoulder. Then she ran, with Marie howling even louder (if that were possible) in the crook of her left arm while the gun hung at her right. The mill was just ahead.
She yanked the back door open, darted inside, and immediately rolled to one side. She dropped the shotgun with a clatter and clamped her hand over the baby's face as tightly as she dared. Just for a moment... come on, come on... As she'd expected, her pursuers were close on her heels; they burst through the door behind her, completely missing the huddled and mostly-transparent blob on the floor for the open slave revolt going on right in front of them. Figuring their quarry was in there somewhere, they charged on. Jessie gave them another five agonizing seconds and then took her hand away. Little Marie svcked in a breath and started wailing again. Jessie sighed in relief. That's right, baby, cry your little heart out.
Discarding the spent Stealth Boy, Jessie quickly checked the child to be sure she wasn't hurt. There was a bad moment when she noticed the blanket was damp, but then she recognized the smell. In all the excitement, Marie had done one of the things babies do best. I'll let Midea take care of that too, when I find her.
With the crying baby in her arms, Jessie made her way further into the mill. Those slaves who weren't busy with the few remaining overseers here, or stripping their bodies, stopped and gave way in wonder. "Midea!" Jessie shouted, fighting to be heard over the noise of the millworks and the baby. "Midea!"
Suddenly the older woman was there, clucking at Jessie. "You've really kicked the hornet's nest, haven't you?" She reached into one of the pockets of her simple dress and produced an old milk bottle with an improvised nipble. "Here, give her this. Brahmin milk, mixed with something that'll make her sleep a while."
Jessie took the bottle and gave it to Marie, who began svcking immediately. With that distracting noise silenced, a thought came to her. "You knew. To bring this. You knew all along, and you didn't tell me."
"Of course I knew!" the slave snapped. "But that baby is our only chance of a cure and freedom from this hellhole. If it makes you feel any better, when we're done, she'll be back with her parents and never needs to know any of this happened. So quit whining."
Jessie glared, but decided not to press the point. "Fine. Take her."
"Ohhh no," Midea said, holding up her hands. "That's the first place Ashur's guards will look. You need to take her to Wernher. He's hiding out in the Steelyard. Just follow the spotlights - they keep the trogs away - and look for one over a door."
Still frowning, Jessie nodded. "Follow the lights. Got it."
"The sooner you get the baby to Wernher, the sooner we can get what we need and ransom her back to her parents." A cloud passed over Midea's face. "You didn't kill them, did you?"
"No!" Jessie snapped back, not mentioning the brief fantasy she'd had when first speaking to Ashur of decorating the wall with his brains.
"Good. Get moving." Midea turned and ran off. Jessie's scowl softened as she looked down at Marie, taking the bottle from her; it was starting to slip out of her tiny hands as she fell asleep, just as promised. Okay then.
When Jessie got out into the yard, the string of blue-white spotlights - the same kind she'd seen during her brief visit to Uptown - was easy to follow. No trogs or wildmen accosted her, but she kept her gun drawn just in case. The baby dozed peacefully in her cradled arm, spit bubbling from its lips.
Jessie had been born miles outside the Pitt, away from the worst of its pollution, but a completely healthy baby was still a wonder to her. Most of those in her tiny community had been marked in some way, even if they didn't go full trog; she'd been one of the lucky ones. Lately she thought that might have been balanced by her choice of fathers.
She almost passed the door in the gloom, heading up the stairs and catwalks that ringed the blast furnace, but caught it out of the corner of her eye and doubled back. It wasn't locked. Going inside, she found herself in a space nestled against the side of the great furnace. The air was hot and muggy. Some furniture had been set up on the dirty floor, and an elevated walkway led up to a screened-off area. Wernher was coming down the ramp, and she went to meet him.
"Ah, you finally made it." He rubbed his hands together. "I've got everything ready and there are plenty of tests to run, so hurry up and put the brat in the crib."
Jessie bristled. "You never told me this meant kidnapping."
"Yeah, because you would have just whined about it." Wernher took a drag on his cigarette. "If you aren't getting your hands dirty, you aren't making a difference. Welcome to the world."
Jessie stood firm this time. "I've been out in the world, and I've seen and done plenty."
"Good. Then you won't have a problem with this next part." Wernher's good eye gleamed. "Now that we've got the kid, we can let the trogs overrun Haven and take care of the bosses for us. Wipe 'em all out."
Jessie blinked. "But Midea said..."
"Midea said, Midea said!" Wernher rolled his eye. "Midea says a lotta stuff. And as long as Ashur and the rest are alive, they're a threat. What do you care? I thought you hated those bastards."
"Yeah, but..."
"What else are you gonna do? Crawl back to Ashur and his venomous little wifey and say..." His voice became a mocking falsetto imitation of hers. "'Sorry I stole your firstborn, my mistake!'" He smirked. "You're in it this far, it's easier to follow through than it is to back out."
Jessie gritted her teeth. "It's not about what's easy, it's about what's right."
Wernher snorted. "I don't believe this. You've come all this way, and now you're haggling over the price of the meat."
His use of slaver slang raised Jessie's hackles and narrowed her eyes. "It's true, then. You were his second. But you wanted to be first, top dog, Lord of the Pitt." Wernher stared at her flatly, not denying it. "'My people'... you used me."
Wernher finally grinned. "Yeah, I did. And you know what?" He drew his sidearm. "I already have everything I need from you. So you're expendable."
The sound of the shotgun was very loud in the closed room. It woke the baby, who began to cry again.
Feeling numb, Jessie trudged up the steps of Haven. The fighting had died down, and the square, though littered with bodies, was quiet. She had no doubt that she was being tracked by many marksmen, but the baby in her arms seemed to grant her safe passage.
She was met just inside the doors by the guards and by Sandra, who rushed forward. "Give her to me!"
Jessie carefully handed the precious bundle over. "Here. I'm sorry, I didn't..."
Sandra slapped her, hard. Jessie blinked, but didn't react (even to feel at her stinging cheek) as the angry mother went on. "I ought to slice you open. You're lucky my daughter's still safe. I'll let Ashur decide what to do with you. Get out of my sight."
That was the guards' cue to grab her and start marching her upstairs. Jessie considered her chances for resistance (and survival) and found them slim. Nice going, she thought. Guess it's true what they say about good intentions. It was ironic that, after so many adventures and narrow escapes in the Capital Wasteland, she was going to die right here in her own back yard. She thought sadly of her dog, and hoped that he would find another good person to look after him.
Ashur was waiting as they exited the elevator. Jessie expected him to be furious, his rage hot enough to scorch the air around him, but instead he seemed almost eerily calm. "Why would you do this?"
Jessie sighed. She knew these would probably be her final words, and she wanted them to be proud and defiant, but she was just so tired. "Like you said. Wernher lied to me. I didn't know he was--" She almost said one of you, but Ashur held up a hand to cut her off.
"No. Why, after taking my daughter, would you bring her back to me?"
Jessie took a deep breath and looked the Lord of the Pitt in the eye. "Because you may be the scum of the earth, but she's not. She's just a baby. She hasn't done anything yet. And someday, maybe, if you're very lucky... she'll forgive you, and love you." She swallowed. "She deserves that chance. She deserves... to grow up with a father."
Ashur studied her for a very long moment. "I understand," he finally said. Jessie waited to die, wondering if he would execute her himself or have one of his men do it. What he said next surprised everyone. "Let her go."
"Sir?" A stern glance produced instant obedience. Jessie blinked again, not knowing what to think.
"I should have you staked out for the trogs," Ashur acknowledged. "But my Marie is safe, you've rid me of a very troublesome man, and the city has a bright future again... so I'm feeling unusually merciful. Consider yourself lucky."
Feeling a little giddy at her unexpected reprieve, Jessie decided to press that luck a little. "And the slaves?"
Ashur shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I can't free them. You have to look at the big picture. Without those workers, this city would fall apart. Some day, soon I hope, we'll have a cure for the city's disease and the workers will be free... but until then, the only way we can grow is by bringing in forced labor."
"Well, you won't be getting any more from Paradise Falls or Evergreen Mills," she said wryly. Some of the raiders tensed or drew back, and Ashur raised an eyebrow. "That was you?" Jessie simply nodded; she'd been under sentence of death from the moment she walked in, and felt no fear now. "You surprise me again, new blood. But that means our future might not be so bright after all."
"Maybe, maybe not." Jessie saw an opening and went for it. "You were in the Brotherhood of Steel, right? How do you feel about them now?"
Ashur scowled. "Lazy and selfish. It's easier to loot a city and leave the rest to rot than to bring it back to life, so that's what they did. They're so obsessed with preserving the technology of the past, they don't care about what needs to be done for today and tomorrow. It takes real work to rebuild and run a city. But there isn't a machine to do it for them, so the Brotherhood isn't interested. Good riddance."
Jessie allowed herself a little smile. "What if I told you that there are a lot of Brothers in D.C., right now, who feel exactly the same way?" Now it was Ashur's turn to look startled. "Yes, they made it. I've been there, I've seen them. And while some of the Brotherhood stuck to the 'mission'--" (she couldn't keep the scorn and bitterness out of her voice) "-- the rest have settled down and sworn themselves to helping the people there. I guess none of your slaver buddies ever told you about them, huh."
She was warming to the topic now, making use of some of the charm she'd picked up while she was away. "Something else D.C. has a lot of is big, nasty mutants. Not as fast as trogs, but bigger and stronger. That's who the Brotherhood there have been fighting all of these years. A lot of people are scared of these mutants, but can't get into any of the safe towns. I bet if you asked, some of them would be willing to come here. Especially since the water there isn't much better. And when you do find a cure..."
Ashur looked tempted by the prospect, but still skeptical. "Not nearly enough to work the mill. We're short-handed as it is. And after that riot today..."
"Look, we can stand here until Marie starts walking and argue about why it won't work, or we can figure out something that will." Jessie rubbed her temples, careful not to make any moves that might set off the already twitchy guards. "Maybe the Brotherhood in D.C. will help. Maybe you can get workers, free workers, from somewhere else. Maybe you can open up some real trade, not just for slaves but things other people need; stop this city from being a pit that swallows everything and gives back nothing." She took another moment to put her thoughts into words. "Taking slaves, working them to death... that's just another kind of scavving. It's not how you build something that will last. It's the lazy and selfish way."
Ashur smiled faintly at having his own argument turned back at him. "You're just full of surprises, aren't you, new blood?"
"You have no idea," Jessie replied with a humorless smile of her own. "You see, Pitt Lord, I am from around here. I grew up not twenty miles from this place, hating it and everything it stood for. Your men came once when I was ten; after that, we hid. I went to D.C. to find someone, and I came back to kill you." She forced herself to remain absolutely relaxed as the guards reacted, ignoring everything but Ashur's equally steady gaze.
"What changed your mind?"
"I met your family. And I found out I'd been lied to."
Ashur nodded and gestured again for the raiders to lower their weapons. "I grant you safe passage in and out of the Pitt. Though I warn you, some people may not be too happy with you for a while. Including my wife."
Jessie nodded, turned, and left.
Midea stood at the half-open door of her hovel, scowling out at her visitor. "So, still deigning to talk to us scabs? How nice of you."
Jessie sighed. She had been expecting this, had been tempted to leave the city without going to see the woman, but after lecturing others on the difference between easy and right... "I'm sorry. I had to go with my gut and I did. You know Wernher was lying to both of us? He wasn't going to give the baby back, and I don't think he would have let you and the others go free either."
"Tell yourself that if it makes you feel better, traitor."
"And when they find a cure," Jessie pressed on grimly, "Ashur said everyone would get it."
"Oh, sure. Be obedient and subservient because someday the god-king's only child will make everything better? You actually believed that?"
"I promise that I'll do whatever--"
"You've already done quite enough, thank you. Good bye." The door slammed hard enough to rattle its ancient frame.
Jessie reached up and took off her sunglasses so she could pinch the bridge of her nose. "Great," she murmured. "Just great."
As she made her way out of Downtown, toward the main gate, she was very conscious of the looks thrown her way by slaves and guards alike. In trying to find a best solution for everyone, she had succeeded in pleasing no one. Maybe I should leave the talking stuff to Uncle Roe after all.
Mex, still on duty at the gate, bade her farewell. "Lord Ashur says come back any time ya like. I say, good riddance." Jessie's reply was a big fake smile that vanished the moment she turned away. The gate rolled aside just far enough for her to squeeze through, and clanged shut again as soon as she was clear. Nice.
Squaring her shoulders, she adjusted her shotgun's sling and began the long trek across the car-jammed bridge. She was really looking forward to seeing her dog again.
