This is a Story of Stories about some Wastelanders who can not die but who can not choose how, where they are reborn or what they are reborn as.

Mostly Canon, hopefully.

Some changes.

Date of Doomsday is 2027 instead of 2077.

Advanced technologies such as power armour, robots, atomic motors etc. are developed in the 200 years, in the exotic Underworld, instead of the Wastelands. In the Underworld surviving elite factions from the surface have battled each other and have developed new technologies while retaining many Predoomsday ones.

Wasteland technologies range from crossbows to lever-action rifles, to biofuel motorcars to steam-trains, from clockwork mechanisms to some working computer network-systems.

Enclave has become the Enclaven based in big, hidden, underground EnEnclaves.

Actions, stories, are based in the Wastelands across the world but also in other designated regions.

Mutated horses are added along with other lifeforms.

Wastelander humans are noticeably different from Underworld humans; Wastelander humans are mostly patchskins, hairskins and hardskins. Underworlders are mostly normies. There are other types of humans to be found above and below.
There is the layer of networks between the two that is known as the Midworld or Midways.

FACTIONS LIST
Note: Quasifactions are loosely organized factions that barely fit within the definition of being factions.

Main Factions of the Underworld
Brotherhood of Steel
Enclaven
UnityWays
Atomicusa (Followers of Atom)
Androidia
Utopiatropolis
NewEarthers
ArkVaults of the TekVaults
Others to be added

Midworld/Midways
LifeVault Network of the TekVaults (Quasifaction)
Deep Subways Union, Subwayers

Main Factions of the Wastelands
New Republics Union (Union of New Republics or United New Republics)
Syndicates (Quasifaction)
Cesaer's Empire
United Citystates (Quasifaction)
DomniCommonwealth
EagleEnclaven (break away faction from Enclaven)
Exiles of Steel (break away faction from Brotherhood of Steel)
Outcasts of Steel (break away faction from Brotherhood of Steel)
Children of Atom (break away faction from Atomicusa)
Oasis Followers
Orders of the Way
ShelterVaults Network of the TekVaults (Quasifaction)
Supermutants of LifeVault0087 (Quasifaction)
Others to be added

To be added to, edited in future.

0001
Jakeman
Hunting Bandits

Jakeman fired the powerful revolver-pistol, blowing a hole in the bandit and dropped down to hit the dirt, behind shelter, before the dead enemy hit the ground. The bandits were typical scum that preyed on the weak and Jake had drawn them in with some fakery and a small amount of careful psychic influence. One had to be careful with psychic stuff, even if one had plenty of skill, ability and experience as Jake did. Shelter was old super-concrete crumbling slowly away in the form of a low wall facing a semi-enclosed carpark dotted with rusting wrecks of vehicles. Jakeman rolled along the ground and came up in a crouch behind a metal trashcan. Metals, like other materials, of the late 2010s had often been very well produced and the trashcan could still make a pretty good bit of safety. Only the one surviving bandit had a powerful, single shot bolt-action rifle that might make such shelter useless.

Jakeman went into stillness and, closing his eyes, reached out with his mindeye. He picked up impressions of two big radroaches smartly hiding under a vehicle, a molerat in its burrow, some feral ghouls sheltering from the sun that burned them under a fairly distant bus and the one living bandit. It was a patchskin, like the other four bandits, with different colors worked into a strange patchwork pattern. Added to this were scars and tattoos to make a barbaric appearance, a savage one that was no accident. The woman also wore some mutated hornlizard leather of one of the massive, dangerous reptiles. Hornlizard leather body-armour was almost as good as kevlar but clumsier. It was also cheaper and easier to get.

She smiled, she thought she had him, but was wrong. Jake played on her arrogant overconfidence as made worse by the recent use of the drug psycho. Even as the woman raised her rifle to site him using a home made, well made, scope he sighted her and shot her. The dead body toppled over and hit the ground. Jake shuddered softly, he hated killing even such thugs, got over it and then began to gather together the bodies. He looted what was useful and heaped it onto his second rhorse, one his hard skinned mutated horses. Survival meant selling, trading, bribing with everything he could with but also giving what he could to his own people.

He cut off a finger from each bandit, got some other identification, and left riding his saddle rhorse while the pack-rhorse followed faithfully. His hound, Dango, joined him soon and they moved quickly, quietly across the broken, distorted landscape of the Domain of Centralia. They were close to both a big river and to a big SuperDuperMart complex dominated by gangers. Gangers tended to be better organized, more loyal to their own, and in larger groups than bandits but to Jake most of them were still murdering scum. Only a few gangs were to be trusted and respected. That did not include any in the SuperDuperMart complex, much of which was underground or under rubble of super-concrete.

Carefully circling the SuperDuperMart, he headed towards the crater based settlement of Megaton that was his home town. He had not been born there but had been adopted as a small child by a friendly, tough family there. It was getting slowly, steadily darker which meant that too soon the ghouls would be coming out to play. Not all feral ghouls were the very aggressive zhouls. There were the defensive aggressive rhouls and the vhouls who were more aggressive than the rhouls but not berserker mad like the zhouls. Unfortunately the zhouls outnumbered the vhouls who outnumbered the rhouls.

The voice spoke deep in his mind.

-The rifle is a good prize even if it is only a single shooter. You could give it to Pa Hokem in exchange for the many favors he has done you.

He sighed softly. It was typical of the Voice to play on his good side when he really wanted to sell the rifle for a good price in Emergency Issue Dollars or trade it for some good stuff. The Voice was right, though, for he did owe a good deal to Pa Hokem. He rode along gullies, kept to hiding as much as possible, avoided making himself or his animal companions too visible. Then he was passing a big RedRocket structure next to a RedRocket Refueling Station for electric and hybrid-electric vehicles. Megaton's crazy sloping inward walls came into view along with the big jet airliner that poked above it and also such as battlements.

The screaming howl of a deathclaw echoed from the distance from the pack that had that area as its hunting territory. Deathclaws were a lot smarter and cunning than most people assumed they were, especially settlers who rarely left the settlements, and they knew they were not bullet proof; so they tended to keep a distance from settlements. Jake studied dark clouds scuttling across the sky and knew a rainstorm was coming. When it rained in the Wastelands it too often rained too much.

You have some great ideas, although I don't see how this is "mostly canon" lol You've changed everything quite a bit, but that's what Fan Fic is. It's YOUR interpretation of the Fallout Universe. Your writing is really good, you are creative, talented and very imaginative!

Could you do me one favor though and change the font? I like Comic Sans, but it's really hard to look at in this forum. The black background distorts it and makes it tough to read. Lucida Sans (like this font) works well or just leave the default forum font.

0002
Jakeman
Meeting Pa Hokem

He gave the powerful single shot rifle to Pa Hokem, who grinned from ear to ear, and promised to do some good hunting with it, which he would do. Pa Hokem would go out hunting, with great care, for less dangerous prey closer to Megaton. Sometimes it was on the surface but more often in the cave systems that one could get to through the old subway tunnels going out from Megaton Subway Station. The subway station area, and sealed off subway tunnels, was Inner Megaton. The Crater area was Middle Megaton. The area between the Inner and Outer Walls was Outer Megaton. The territories officially ruled by Megaton were Greater Megaton, a grand name for a whole lot of dangerous Wastelands that Megaton had no real control over.

Pa Hokem made up some nice herbal tea and they sipped it in the Hokem's underground home, in the bigger commonroom that served many purposes. Pa Hokem was one of the very few people who knew that Jakeman was far more than he seemed to be. He was dressed in tough, basic clothes and boots as made in various settlements or looted from preserved storage systems of various kinds. The source of some tradegoods was a mystery. Pa Hokem grinned and spoke. "A whole lot of boxcans of SPAM arrived from Rivertown in the last highway convoy coming from that way. Nobody seems to know where it originated from, as often is the case, but it was offloaded from a rivership stopping off at Rivertown. Word from Rivertown is that the settlement has decided to join the New DC Republic. I don't like the idea, don't trust those New Republicans as far as I can spit them, but they offer police, military, paramilitary, medical and other support; heard they tend to keep their word as well. Those New Republican Guardsmen are a damned tough lot."

Jakeman snorted. "The elite units are, and some in the regular units, but many of the guardsmen are conscripts doing National Service. Still, there are a fair few of them and they all have guns, body-armour though many have to march or ride steeds. We all know that while Rivertown is important that the NDCR has its main focus on us, on Megaton. We are in a nice strategic position, on high ground and we are have a subway station and even a small bunker complex."

"We don't have no bunker complex, those eccentric Browns have it." The old man grinned mildly for he actually liked the extended Brown Family, many of whose members were 'honorary' relatives known as special cousins. Many special cousins were such as yhouls, rhouls and non feral ghouls along with some rhoughskin former Tribals. Yhouls were 'tamed' vhouls or even zhouls. Such folk got a home in the bunker complex while Megaton was extremely reluctant to let them further in than Outer Megaton with its rough, overcrowded conditions. This was partly due to the fanatical influence of the Children of Atom on Megaton for the church was actually quite wealthy in resources, by Wastelander standards, and its followers were over 20% of the total citizenry of the settlement; these Followers of Atom, unlike some of their stranger related cults, were prejudiced against ghoulified folk and what they considered as 'barbarians'.

Jakeman more than liked the Browns, he was one of them being Jakeman Brown. He snorted in pretend annoyance. "You got any juicy gossip for me or are you just going to play me along until you feel like giving it to me?"

"Aaahhh, you spoil my fun." The old guy shrugged and sat up a bit. He became more serious of expression. "The Nasty Families are up to something and not just their usual nastiness. The Moriartys, the Judds and the O'Donalds have been having secret meetings of their elders but Colin Moriarty has been left out in the cold. Seems the Moriarty Family has not forgiven him for trying to rob them blind with that Daring Star Plan of his; probably never will fully forgive him. He broke family honor and most of the Moriartys hold that in high esteem, strangely enough. He remains exiled out in Outer Megaton with the GirlsNGames Saloon. I would not even trust him with that but it seems he has not tried to cheat his family since he got busted big time and he has even handed over some extras that he did not need to."

There were lots of scum in the Wastelands but Colin Moriarty was scum of the scum. Jakeman strongly suspected that one day he would end up killing Colin Moriarty, if nobody else got to him first for the man had made many enemies, far more enemies than was wise to. Yet it was the Moriarty Elders that Jakeman, and many others, most feared for they were long term cunning and had links with the dreaded Syndicates, the organized crime networks of the Wastelands. Syndicaters were slavers, gun runners, traders of cannibal meat, fake bandits and much else. They were linked with forbidden superdrugs, illegal bloodgames, assassinations, thug mercenaries, rustling, illegal prostitution and much much else in the way of crime. They ran their own settlements but most were hidden though the biggest, Paradise Falls, was quite well known. While there were paramilitary Rangers, New Republican Police, Sheriffs, Marshals and Bounty Hunters, the elite Regulators were the primary enemy of the Syndicaters; the Regulators had been set up to deal with the Syndicaters by an unknown agency.

Jakeman scowled softly. He was a noted enemy of the Syndicaters, who badly wanted to see him dead, and on the Tenpenny Family's Death List. The Tenpenny Family were one of the infamous Syndicater Families who ran the Syndicates but it was whispered that they worked for a mysterious other who actually owned all of the Syndicates. It was hard to know the truth. Jakeman had strong links with the Regulators and he was due to go to the Megaton Regulator Outpost to get paid for killing the five bandits.

He left the old man, who was actually much younger than Jakeman, happily cleaning the rifle that he had just been given.

Thanks for the positive feedback, Agrona. Truth is this is 'canon' by my crazy standards. I changed the font as you suggested. Always happy to get feedback.

Good, the font is much better!

Also, at the end you have: JakeMan scowled softly. That's a bit of a contradiction, because scowling gives the reader a sense that JackMan is angry, softly is an inappropriate adjective in this case. It's enough if you say: JackMan scowled. Remember, less is more. Use adjectives sparingly and rather describe your character's feelings through his/her actions.

I'm also wondering why there are so many different ghouls (rhouls, zhouls etc). This can get confusing lol

Rhorse? LOL Yea, that's definitely YOUR canon! LOL

Agrona, while I think there is merit in what you say, people do have seemingly contradictory expressions that have important meaning. Harrison Ford has one such expression, at least one. Scowling softly indicates annoyance while scowling heavily indicates real anger or even rage. People's ranges of expressions are amazingly varied and all relate to communications of body language.

The reason for subdividing the feral ghouls into rhouls, vhouls and zhouls is for long term story reasons as the characters in the story interact with the different peoples in different ways. I also like to think that not all ghoulification would work the same on feral ghouls because of variations such as where people where, individual personalities, luck and other factors.

Rhorses! I found I wanted to put them in to try to create a more Wild West, early Australian Colonial feel, to the stories. Also rhorses, and other mutated animals used by human transportation, give greater flexibility to the story and to Wastelander civilizations.

Again, thanks for the positive feedback.

Different rhorses for different people!
Edit: this should, perhaps, be different rhorses for different courses!

0003
Jakeman
Meeting Regulator Captain Joe Murphy

Joe Murphy was a typical tough Wastelander patchskin who had served the Regulators all his advlt life, who had grown up in a Regulator Family in a hidden Regulator Settlement somewhere. Regulators had to keep their peoples hidden to stop them being hit by the Syndicaters. They met in the office shared by all three Regulators stationed semipermanently at Megaton. It was a fairly bare space with some Predoomsday bits and pieces. Some cheaply printed Regulator RP posters dotted one wall along with wanted posters for a wide range of criminals, most of them being Syndicaters. Joe had experienced a great deal of hardship and violence but had kept a thin streak of good humor and compassion, somehow.

Joe passed over a small stack of dollar coins, Predoomsday emergency stuff of great value, along with some less valuable 'caps' or tradecoins that looked something like flattened, marked bottlecaps. "Sorry but we suspect that somebody is deliberately trying to damage the economy by taking as many coins as possible. We doubt it is the Syndicates because such a move damages their profits; anyway they seem upset by the whole situation. We know about the meetings between the Megaton Dirty Families; we figure they are up to something, as usual, but that they are also concerned about what has been happening. That is some unknown force is attempting to sabotage the regional civilization, if one could use the word 'civilization' for what we have here. There have been odd stories of what people are calling 'strange strangers', meaning even stranger than Wastelands 'normal'. Regulators have told some of these stories and they have also come from other reliable sources. RivetCity security turned away some of them last month. Rivercity was visited by a boat load of them about two weeks ago but they had plenty to spend and caused no trouble. There have been reports of different kinds of strange strangers, reports of large firefights going on between known and stranger factions and... well the situation does not seem overly bad but does not promise good either."

The Regulators appreciated that Jakeman took down lots of Syndicaters and other criminals, only killing when given no other viable choice. The Wastelanders lacked the resources to confine a great number of criminals and the New Republican work camps were infamous as were their prisons. Often the merciful thing turned out to be death and many criminals prefered it that way. Yet they were also wary of him because they did not know very much about him except that as an infant he had appeared seemingly out of nowhere and had been adopted by the Brown Family of Megaton. He had appeared, the family had one look at him and he was adopted, just like that. They also knew he had some odd and interesting abilities, seemed enhanced of mind, body and spirit along with being an amazing survivor fighter.

Jakeman frowned. "I have been operating in Megaton and close to home for over a couple of years. Perhaps it is time I had a look around further. What aren't you telling me?"

The Regulator sighed and shifted in his seat. He wore his body-armour because Regulators could be attacked at almost any time. "Regulator HQ wants to know more about you. They wanted me to be more subtle in my approach but they have never met you. You read people with amazing skill. Regulator HQ does not see you as a threat, far from it, but feel the need to have a thicker dossier written on you. They love their records in HQ."

Jakeman sighed. "Have you ever heard of the Legend of the Travelers?"

The Regulator Captain nodded. "It would not surprise me at all if the legend is true and you are one of them. I once saw you take down eight deadly gangers in less than a minute and you did so with out weapons. I have seen a full grown rogue male deathclaw turn away from you rather than fight you. I have seen you walk calmly out of a raging storm as if you just came out of a gentle rain shower. I have known whole bandit groups to leave an area just because you entered that area. Many criminals automatically surrender to you. What else can I say? There is something about you that would agree with the idea of you being one of the mysterious 'Travelers'. What are they?"

Jakeman shrugged. "I do not know, none of us do, for what we do not know we can not divulge to others. We do what we must do as much as we can do it, when and where we can do it. Need to know information only. We are here to help! We are also called the 'Eternals'. I simply do not know how old I really am or how many worlds I have experienced but.... I have impressions of sailing galleons, of dragons, of Roman Legionaries marching in neat ranks along a Roman Highway, of huge spaceships landing on a red, desolate world and much else. Only impressions."

Jakeman paused before speaking again. "I will find something for you to report to Regulator HQ, something they can feel good about putting into their files, but I prefer if you kept the..."

The captain grinned. "They would not believe the 'Traveler' idea anyway; they are far too clever and rational for that! I see in your eyes that you have become interested in these strange strangers. Well, experience has told me to get out of your way and wait until you call for assistance or give information or come to our assistance."

Jakeman nodded. "Very good! I have a bottle of Eightman's Whiskey for you along with boxes of .32 calibre bullets, a .32 revolver-pistol, some gun maintenance items, a set of good condition hornlizard leather body-armour and a briefing of notes, basic maps and basic sketches."

The Regulator shook his head in wonder. In theory the Regulators supported people like Jakeman but in truth it was most often that Jakeman was giving resources to the Megaton Regulators, which they were always in need of. The whiskey would come in handy for purposes of morale boosting.

0004
Jakeman
Back in the Brown Family Bunker

Professor Maximas Brown was a man who was more solid than he looked, more dangerous than he seemed as big big, jolly, plump man in a checkered shirt of many pockets, cargo-trousers of many pockets, boots and a baseball cap. He was in his laboratory-workshop and was examining a strange arrangement of clear tubing, odd little machines, bottles and other items. It was an experiment in full go as fluids flowed along tubes, bubbled in glass beakers and machines hummed softly.

Maximas spoke as he examined a beaker of yellowish fluid that seemed to be the focus end point of the experiment. "Very promising. The glowshooms process is resulting in a new type serum that should be of great use to medicine, industry and further experimentation." He turned to Jakeman with a soft frown. "You have killed again. Five bandits, as I hear from the gossip rushing through Megaton. I wonder how far the gossip has gone now thanks to the new big two-way radio we have running here at Megaton."

Yes, the Megaton Radio Tower had been completed and 2way communications had begun with Rivertown and other settlements. 2way communications was also being used with outposts and groups. The biggest trouble was interference thanks to exotic Postdoomsday atmospheric conditions but even that was minimal most of the time.

Reports had come in of a power new militaristic faction arriving in the DC that called themselves the Exiles of Steel. There were also the Outcasts of Steel but though they came from the same mysterious origin, they seemed in many ways to be different from each other as well as the same. There had been fighting reported at the site of the DC-Citadel, the New Pentagon super-fortress constructed in the 1920s and completed only a year before Doomsday. The DC-Citadel had been sealed off by autorobotic defense-security network-systems but the outer parts, still open, had become occupied by some very tough gangers. Now the Exiles of Steel were moving in and evicting the gangers with out much grace.

Jakeman shrugged. The professor did not like that his adopted grandson killed so many people but Jakeman did what he had to do. "You know that I kill only when given no other choice and that most that I do kill prefer it that way rather than end up in New Republican convict chain-gangs."

The professor sighed. "Yes, I know but I just wish that there was less killing in this horribly damaged world of ours." Then he smiled. "Do you have anything for your fussy old grandpa?"

Jakeman snorted softly. "Just an old Predoomsday book you may be interested in called Portman's New Theory of High Pressure Chemical Osmosis." He took out the big old hardback book from the backpack he had put on a metal table and passed it to the suddenly grinning old man. "It came in a short time ago."

The Browns had learned not to ask where such items came from, or how they got to Megaton, unless the need to do so was very important. Jakeman would not say. He had kept many secrets since he had first showed up at the Browns' Bunker as a seminaked infant. Somehow, even as a child coming out of the wilderness, he had given the strong impression that he could more than look after himself.

"This will do wonders for our researches here at the bunker." The professor breezed through the book. "This book came out just months before Doomsday. It even as one of those rare 3Dphotos of the author on the back."

Holotapes, 3Dphotos, and other such technologies had been coming out in the years before Doomsday but had yet to become common. The Brown Family gathered what data, of the Predoomsday Age, that they could but were far from the only ones doing so. PD books, tapes, disks, maps, artifacts and much else were always under demand. So called artifact-hunters were constantly seeking to find such items, often in extremely dangerous conditions, and then selling them for a high price. Except that not all artifact-hunters did so for money, many serving various causes. Professor Maximas Brown was secretly linked to the Followers of the Apocalypse, a Wastelands organization seeking to improve the future for the Wastelands and Wastelanders. He did research for this organization that had made friends and enemies, some of them of mysterious nature.

Jakeman sighed. "Time to show you something special, professor. You complain sometimes that I have too many secrets. Pass me the book, please."

The professor, sensing something unusual was about to take place, did so. Jakeman took the book, put it on the metal table, took the backpack off and put it on the floor. Now the book was the only thing on the small metal table. He closed his eyes, touched the book with the middle finger of each hand, and with a sparkling shimmer the book vanished. Seconds later five brand new looking duplicates of the same book appeared out of mid air, with a sparkling shimmer, in a neat stack.

Jakeman stepped away from the table. "Do not touch for at least a minute or you will get a strange, disturbing tingling sensation that does no harm."

The professor shook his head in wonder. "I have heard stories about people who can do such things. How long have you been able to do this?" Then he stopped and smiled. "Now that explains where you got many of the items that you brought to the family over the years."

"It is not a trick that I care to do too often or for too complicated or large objects for it drains precious energies." Jakeman shrugged. "Also the power has steadily increased since I was young, as have other special abilities. I will speak of those at another time." This really meant that he intended not to speak more of the subject at that moment.

The professor smiled. "You are a good deal smarter than you let on. You could boost our research efforts greatly but you say that you can not do so as if saying you are not allowed to do so. Don't frown like that, I do not intend to pressure you to say more than you want to."

Jakeman shook his head. "My knowledge is blocked from me. Need to know only! Yet I can assist you in your studies because I do know certain areas quite well by Predoomsday standards of this world. That is physics, chemistry, mathematics, geography, biology, biochemistry, genetics, astronomy, engineering, history, political studies, sociology, literature, archeology, anthropology, computer science and a few others. I will see you when you come to dinner. Mother states you are not to be late again. Moira needs assistance with one of her projects. The Snooks need some fussing over. Jane wants me to assess her latest painting."

The professor sighed. "Just what sort of human are you?"

"Who said anything about being human?" Jakeman gave the professor a wink, picked up his backpack and walked out of the room. Maximas stared at his disappearing grandson in sheer amazement.

OK, I guess you are trying to distinguish subtle differences in your character's emotions, point well taken.


Question: So, it's a story of Wastelanders who can NOT die, BUT who can NOT choose either? I mean, should that read: who can NOT die, BUT who CAN choose, how, where they are reborn. Also, to be REBORN usually indicates that one died... This statement is a bit confusing and a clarification would be helpful.

It's a rhorse of a different color! hahahaha

The way that these 'Eternals' live and die, get reborn, is a complicated one that will be answered through out the story. The idea sounded kind of contradictory because of the strangeness of what is happening to the Eternals. The reasons for what happens to them, why it happens, is one of the long term mysteries lying at the core of the story plot. Somehow the fate of, at least some of, the Eternals is tied up with the Wastelands.

Other main characters will soon begin to emerge who are not Eternals, most being just typical Wastelanders of different kinds.

0005
Other
Rivertown Bluesman Singing the Blues

Bluesman, the 'blues' singing and guitar playing man, was popular not just with locals but with many consistent visitors to the settlement of Rivertown. Riverboats, bigger riverships, ferries across the river and other vessels were often going in and out of the fortified river harbor, through bit armored gates of special design that were in pairs, airlock fashion. The music drifted across the harbor from the Blues Tavern that was close to the fortified shoreline boundary and the actual jetties.

With the growing popularity of Rivertown joining the NDCR, by Rivertowners, that New Republic had brought in two riverships of River Marines with their equipment and supplies. The armed, armored, riverships also had gifts for the people of Rivertown in the form of two large power generators, some guns for the Rivertown Sheriff's Office, some livestock and other useful stuff. It was bribery but was legal, above board bribery acceptable to the people of Rivertown.

Yet there were those who had come in with the riverships, who would not be so welcome if the Rivertowners had known that they were there. Five SCUBA divers in special black diving suits had staid with the riverships, using special harnesses and clamps to the side of the vessels. It was tough going but they did it easily because they were supersoldiers. They waited there not to do harm to the riverships, far from it. They were motionless in the water, beneath the surface, with special advanced air tanks and tubes up to the surface that they could, and did use, to breathe with while waiting. The tubes were hard to see. Perhaps the Rivertowners, or the River Marines, would have noticed the bubbles but there were big mutated aquatic spinerays that had a habit of causing bubbles to come up to the surface at times. Also the people were over confident that no intruders could get into the harbor. For one thing, what fool would be foolish enough to risk the spinerays, the diresharks, mirelurks and other such threats?

Then a minisubmarine came humming softly through the water, driven by electric motors and twin propellers. It came sleek and fast, lightly armored and with both a pilot and a man to operate the robotic arm that would plant magnetic mines against the sides of both riverships. The minisubmarine was of odd design and had no identifying marks. Yet it was the men inside who were strangest for they were hairless, of smooth hairless gray skin and had dark unblinking eyes of a lightly polished finish.

The supersoldier struck with fast, efficient deadliness. They placed small, cleverly shaped mines against the cockpit armored transparent material of the minisubmarine and the bombs exploded inwards, into the cockpit. The strange men made no sounds, did not seem to register any pain, but as they died their bodies burned away with amazing speed and thoroughness. It was as if they suffered from spontaneous combustion. The supersoldiers swarmed over the machine and soon had control over it. With two supersoldier divers inside, they were soon preparing to leave the Rivertown. When five fishing boats departed, along with an escort of one guardboat, the supersoldiers went out through the airlock style river-gates with them.

It was fair to say that the great majority of people in the settlement had no idea of what happened that night and would never know how both Rivertown and the NDCR River Marines were rescued from a great deal of death, destruction and disruption.

0006
Jakeman
Back in the Brown Family Bunker

Jane smiled sweetly, adorably at Jakeman while she stood there in a tight white Tshirt and blue jeans along with leather sandals. Except that she threw no shadow and she was a holographic projection personality, an HPP, and her painting was also a holographic projection. Jakeman had rescued her, along with much equipment and supplies, from a buried, partly crushed armored truck. The armored vault truck had been disguised as a normal freight truck but it had been carrying prototype technologies for the Apple Microsoft Corporation, the AMC. From the amalgamation of the two huge corporations back in 2019 the new, even bigger corporation, had been developing a profitable line of HPPs to serve multiple functions from companionship to teaching, therapy, information providing and much more. Jane was a highly advanced HHP with some minor problems that Jakeman had ironed out.

Jane spoke to Jakeman even as the young man sat in a comfortable armchair and admired the painting. Two baby like neobabies, chubby muscular small figures, were sitting on his lap and playing with small, highly colorful, slightly dented plastic toys. Each neobabies wore slightly stained nappysuits. "I tried to do a variation on Leonardo's Mona Lisa."

The Mona Lisa it was except that the woman was a ghoul with a disfigured face and raggedy ghoulish hair. The background was the same except turned to Wastelands. It was the Ghoulified Mona Lisa. Jakeman was quite impressed and he smiled, showing his pleasure. "The smile is still much the same, somehow."

She smiled as a large, scarred cat swiped her paw through Jane's leg. Kittykitten had a cute adorable name but was a very tough survivor of the Wastelands rescued by Jakeman from death by a pack of mutated diredogs. He had not killed the diredogs but had tamed them, somehow, and now they were living away somewhere else. It was somewhere else that he called the Sanctuary and had no knowledge of rather than that for security reasons.

"Kittykitten, please do not be so naughty." Jane looked down with a sort of a half smile. "You silly whiskers, you!"

The cat pretended it had not done anything 'naughty' by grooming herself but failed to fool anybody in the big commonroom. Apart from the HHP-Jane, Kittykitten, the two neobabies and Jakeman, there was a big cowardly dog called Heroboy, a mature woman quietly reading a book as she sat in another armchair and an android man lying on a slanted platform inside a recharging-resting alcove designed and built by Jakeman.

-The Exiles of Steel have conquered the DC-Citadel by offering a surrender treaty to the gangers that is quite generous. It was that or death so the gangers surrendered. With some nice extra equipment and supplies they are taking up residence fairly close to the DC-Citadel from where they will serve as scouts, scavengers and advisers to the Exiles of Steel. The Exiles of Steel seem to be growing in numbers as they appear out of the Subway Network, emerging as if from nowhere. The faction is not being very open about just where they have come from but many speculate that they come from the much talked about Underworld that is supposed to exist.

Jakeman was wondering how the sudden arrival of a large paramilitary faction, such as the Exiles of Steel, could be linked with the appearance of the strange strangers or other whispered about odd events that had been taking place in the region. Stories suggested at least a few thousand of the Exiles of Steel had arisen to the Domain of Centralia and there were many Brothers of Steel Troopers in power armour or even inside stomping mechwalkers or light hovercraft or tracked crawlers of heavy arms-armor. There were workers in power armour also, along with specialists. There were the Soldiers, Sages, Scribes and others including the Elders and Commanders. The mechawalkers were versatile and could be used as war machines or as working machines. It was obvious that the newcomers were very much more technologically advanced than were most Wastelanders.

The DC-Citadel was just a kilometre from the edge of the city of Centropa, a prototype advanced city beneath a slightly cracked polarized dome. The dome was massive, was impressive as a quarantine, security barrier but nobody had gone into or out of the city since Doomsday. The Centropa Guardians were a small, determined faction of paramilitary folks who tried to stop anybody from trying to enter Centropa though they would only say that it concealed strange and terrible threats caused by Doomsday.

Liana, the woman, put her book down, yawned and stretched. Then the mature patchskin woman spoke. "I am not sure that the French would appreciate what you have done though I am not sure that any Frenchmen survived Doomsday."

Jakeman nodded. "Frenchmen survived but France, as a nation, did not. Like the USA, the USSR, the European Union, the PanAfrican League, the independent Republic of France is gone to dust, rubble and skulls."

"How darkly poetic you can be, young man." Liana studied the painting carefully. "Yes, Jane, I like it very much." She was another secret member of the Followers of the Apocalypse, had traveled with the professor as his lover assistant for many years. She was still his lover assistant. She took after many practical needs for both of them, leaving the scientific research up to him. "Though I wonder how you know about the French."

Jakeman shrugged lightly. "I met a Frenchman, actually a woman, who had managed to come to the floating island of Centralia. She was part of an expedition that traveled from France to reach Centralia."

Centralia was a large artificial based island with many natural features to it. It was one of the most amazing creations of the generally amazing Age of Technological Miracles, as it was sometimes called, that had ended in Doomsday.

0007
Jakeman
Back in the Brown Family Bunker

Fredrika walked into the room, a tall rangy looking woman in tough faded brown hornlizard body-armor and other dull, dark clothes. She was looking angry and soon explained why even as the patchwork skinned woman found a padded chair to sit on. "Mayor Pringle has declared that it would be a good thing for Megaton to join the New DC Republic and that he sees no reason why the good folk of Megaton should be bothered to put the move to a vote. Mayor Pringle has kindly offered to make the decision for us all and inform the NDCR that we are ready to join. Then he threw up all over the lectern at the Megaton Grand Hall and fell over, drunkenly, to lay semiconscious on the stage."

The Megaton Grand Hall was used for political reasons, for plays, for other entertainments, for teaching lectures, the projection of movies and for other reasons. It was part of the Megaton Subway Station and was once used for meetings of staff and presentations for visitors to the subway network. As for Mayor Pringle, he was the last of a line of fools who had taken the position of Mayor thanks to foolish factional compromises, corruption and stupidity of those who unofficially controlled Megaton. The controlling factions of Megaton were the Children of Atom, the Founding Families, the Dirty Families (not a name they chose for themselves), the Moderates and the Reformers. Between them they managed to make the Megaton Town Council a sour joke because they only ever wanted mayors and councilmen that they could control or at least who would not threat the power of the factions.

Jakeman nodded. "I suppose there is only the final option now. Well, we tried the democratic way."

Liana shook her head. "Do you really think that you can take over Megaton by force of arms?"

Jakeman shrugged. "The Megaton Town Council has next to no real support amongst the great majority of people, especially since not even 10% of the population has citizenship and can vote in any of the elections. The factions are either seen as powerless to make positive change, entrenched in the unfairness of the old ways or are likely to make matters worse for the majority if they get half a chance to do so."

Liana visibly had her doubts. "Very well but it will be people like me who will have to patch up the wound and to save the dying."

"Hopefully it will not have to come to that." Jakeman sighed tiredly and closed his eyes. "I have been making preparations for some years now in case we came to the final option. What they did to Sheriff Lucas Simms was a strong indicator that the other options had proven useless. Now the factions seem to be pushing for Megaton to be absorbed by the NDCR with out the majority of Megatonfolk having any part of the decision making process."

Liana frowned hard at him. "What preparations would you be talking about?"

Jakeman smiled at her. "The right preparations to get the job done, of course! You are a secret member of the Followers of the Apocalypse, as is grandpa. I think it would be best if neither you or anybody else in the Brown Family become involved in what is going to happen."

Liana did not seem surprised that Jakeman had found her and the professor out. "We do not take part in armed uprisings or support them but you would know that already. The relevant question with you, Jakeman, is not what you know but what don't you know? You seem to know so much with out explanation how you should do so."

Jakeman just smiled some more at Liana. "The Followers of the Apocalypse have done a very fine job over the last century plus of history, have helped many people, have made many fine recoveries of Predoomsday technologies, have run many productive projects and I hope that you continue to do so. You are not so good with dealing with greedy, aggressive, well armed factions or other forces. I have no interest in taking power for myself and the others feel the same. As soon as possible we will declare general elections and carry out other moves to lead Megaton into a new, improved but unlikely a perfect age. Nor do we intend to kill anybody in taking over Megaton because of my special preparations which include the use of non lethal weapons. We will try to capture people rather than kill or even hurt them. Then they will have a chance to take part in the new elections, to try to convince the greatly enlarge citizen body of Megaton that they deserve to be returned to power."

Liana smiled. "I believe you and applaud your plans, as far as you have stated them, but why do I get the feeling you are keeping something back, something secret."

Jakeman snorted softly. "Because I always keep something back, I always keep secrets so your response is only logical."

Liana frowned softly. "We, of the Followers of the Apocalypse, are not your enemies."

"I know that but you are, in many ways, too naive and trusting." He closed his eyes. "Did the professor tell you about my little trick?"

"He did and it could come in very handy for damaged Predoomsday books, holotapes, disks and other forms of data storage." She frowned. "We of the FofA have become aware of the easy way that other Wastelands Factions, many of them of the darker kind, have infiltrated our organization. We have managed to get rid of most of the infiltrators and have tightened up our security. In truth many of the problem individuals seem to just vanish, leaving behind signed confessions of their various crimes and generous compensations in the form of resources."

Jakeman smiled. "Perhaps those people are simply coming to their senses, are seeking enlightenment, are feeling regret and remorse. I need a nap and the special babies have fallen asleep, so I will join them. Fredrika, I will talk with you soon."

Liana was obviously frustrated with her failure to get him to say more but she was used to ending conversations with Jakeman, in this fashion, so she quietly went back to reading her book. Jakeman slept with the two neobabies sleeping on his lap with his hands on their backs. Fredrika gave Kittykitten a scratching, causing a rumbling purring in response, before she went off to get something to eat.

0008
Other
Shadowmaster

Shadowmaster ShazaForia sat on a hard metal chair in a very dimly lit chamber but had no trouble at all in reading the fine print of the report that was open on the desk before him. In his hooded black robes he melded very well into the semidarkness. It was a well done report made up of data gathered from across the DC Wastelands. It spoke of the relative power of various factions, of the effectiveness of transportation systems, of the levels of technologies and much else.

Yet it had very little data on the supermutants that had begun to appear near the Lamplight Mountains as rampaging marauders, along with their malformed zentaurs, or the suddenly arising of the Exiles of Steel from the Underworld or the terrible PackRaiders raiding from the direction of the Eastern Coast of Centralia.

It did speak of the sharp increase of the numbers of Talon Mercenaries, especially of the lowly, expendable, thug-mercenaries at the very bottom of the Talon Pyramid. It also spoke of the move of the New DC Republic into Rivertown and its plans to absorb the settlement of Megaton by bribing corrupt factions in that settlement. Then there were the EagleEnclaven's eyebots entering the broken ruins of the once great city of Centropolis. Centropolis was not to be confused with the much smaller, more advanced, domed city of Centropa. Centropolis surrounded Centropa but between the two was a wide band of open ground. The EagleEnclaven was based on the Northern Coast of Centralia, in the large deeply buried complex known as the EagleEnclave.

It had no information at all on what forces had destroyed the greynoids that had been sent, in an unmarked minisubmarine, to sink the two NDCR River Marine riverships in Rivertown Harbor. The greynoids had simply stopped signaling their existence to the Greynoid Central Control Terminal. The way this had happened indicated they had both been badly damaged enough to instigate the self-destruct processes; that is they had burned away to hide their true 'nature'.

The Shadowmaster did not like such mysteries. The Shadowmaster knew that the Shadowlord ShazaCorva would share his distaste for such gaps in vital data. He placed the file into an out-basket meant for items to be stored away in the archives of the hidden complex. Then he turned to look at the big map of the DC Wastelands on one wall. The map was of good quality, had much data, by Wastelands standards but it still had too many gaps and too much guesswork. Efforts by the new DC Shadownetwork, as controlled by Shadowmaster ShazaForia, had been hampered by many factors. The schedule was in a mess. Plans had to be reformulated. The Shadowlord was far from pleased. Yet the Shadowlord could not blame anybody, could not easily find scapegoats and had to accept that he had been over confident in his earliest appraisals of the mission's likely success. Far more resources had to be committed to meeting the various goals of the mission but there was a chance that Shadowlord ShazaCorva might not have those resources to send, which meant he would have to request them from the great one himself. Shadowmaster ShazaForia found that, at that moment, he was glad that he was not Shadowlord ShazaCorva.

A fly buzzed too close, for its own good, and the Shadowmaster plucked it out of the air, with amazing speed and precision, and swallowed it. Then he picked up a brass tankard of fresh blood and took a large gulp of it. Yes, it was good, very tasty, and nutritional. The Shadowmaster burped loudly and then sighed with satisfaction.