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The Republic of Dave
Dec. 28th, 2011 12:30 pmPaladin Renny had warned the Knights, all three of them, to be on their absolute best behavior. She'd warned them that the residents of the Republic were eccentric "at best". She'd pointed out to Knight Zedd in particular that there was no reason to comment on the Republic's standards of behavior until after they'd finished their mission. The younger man had grumbled, not being a big fan of putting up with Wasteland strangeness, and agreed. Renny was good with this, and told herself that it would all be all right in the end.
But the sight of the twelve-year-old boy carrying a much-used, much-loved assault rifle with the casual air of a lifelong user, and demanding to know who wanted to speak to "President Daddy", was still just a bit much. She wasn't sure she could keep a straight face-
"Excuse me," murmured Knight 101, too low for the boy to hear. "Paladin? May I speak with him?"
Renny glanced at Zedd, who was scowling fit to scare a mirelurk back into the river, and then to Balder, who gave the impression of barely suppressed laughter. "Be my guest," she murmured in return, and added, Founder knows I don't want to.
101 nodded and turned back to the boy. "Please," she said calmly, "inform President Dave that the observer delegation from the Brotherhood of Steel is here. Our commanding officer is Paladin Renny." She indicated the taller, dark-skinned woman. "We would appreciate an orientation if at all possible."
The boy, a skinny, pale lad with poorly cropped brown hair, nodded once. "I can let you in, then," he said. "Welcome to the Republic of Dave. I'll take you to the Capitol Building right away."
"Nicely done," Renny congratulated 101 as they passed through the gates.
"Kids that young shouldn't be hauling that kind of armament around," muttered Zedd.
"Kids that young already are," 101 answered.
"Squire Maxson doesn't count-"
"I didn't mean Squire Maxson. Have you ever been all the way to the western-"
"Not to interrupt or anything," said Balder, "but is that seriously supposed to be the Capitol?"
'That' was a two-level shack with a hastily nailed-together wooden door and a ramshackle corrugated roof. It seemed appropriate, really. Why should the center of government here- if government it could even be called- look any different from the rest of the buildings scattered around the place? Or smell any different; the whole place reeked of Brahmin. Paladin Renny closed her eyes and tried to tell herself that was a good sign- it meant they were probably pretty productive- but....
Oh, Founder, it was worse on the inside. The walls, the ceiling, the floor, everything was made from wood, most of which looked like it'd been cut centuries ago and scavenged from some other building to keep this one standing up. There were stairs, which she didn't trust, and a couple of pieces of furniture, which at least had the decency to look like they had been cared for. And a radio, which was warbling something from Galaxy News Radio's play list.
Well, at least that was a good sign. The Brotherhood put a lot of effort into keeping that radio station propped up.
The boy led them into the depths of the shack, into what looked like a child's approximation of Elder Lyons' office- filing cabinets, shelves stocked with battered pre-war books, electric lighting, a faded rug of braided rags, a desk. Behind the desk sat a bald man with a narrow face, who dropped a sharp, businesslike nod to the group as they arrived. He didn't speak, but glanced at the armed child leading them instead.
"Presenting Paladin Renny and her delegation from the Brotherhood of Steel, Mr. President," the boy said. "They say they're here to see you."
"Good, good," said the man, who Renny supposed must have been the Dave they'd heard so much about. "Thank you, Ralph. You can go now."
The boy made a broad, clumsy gesture that Renny supposed was meant to be some sort of salute, turned on one heel, and marched out. As for the man behind the desk, he turned and looked up to Renny. "I am Dave," he said without preamble, "President of the Republic of Dave. You and your people will address me as 'Mr. President', or I will have you deported."
Renny didn't need to turn her head at that. She could practicaly hear Knight Zedd's teeth grinding.
"I've met one of your number before." Dave nodded towards Knight 101. "I can't say I recognize the rest of you. May I assume you're here because the Brotherhood recognizes the sovereign Republic of Dave?"
"Our orders are to stand as witnesses in the upcoming election," said Renny, surprised at her own ability to keep a level tone. This was ludicrous. "In return, we're here to open negotiations with the next elected President-"
"Who will, of course, be me," said Dave with a smile.
"Ex...cuse me, sir?" said Renny.
"Oh, well, the point of elections is to give the people a choice," said Dave, "but let's be honest- neither Rosie nor Bob has particularly strong support among the voting adults of this community. After all, neither one of them is me. Nothing short of an act of God could put either one of them at the helm. So you really don't have to worry. As long as you stay on good terms with me between now and then, I can assure you I'm amenable to whatever it is you have to offer."
"WHY haven't we just rolled over these idiots yet?" Zedd demanded as soon as they were clear of the Museum of Dave. "What in blazes does Elder Lyons see in this place? We're the Brotherhood of Steel! We're not supposed to be groveling to some egomaniac dirt farmer. We've got a mission-"
After the 'history lesson' they'd just witnessed- Dave is a world-renowned marksman, known for shooting a fresh apple out of the hand of a raider from across the Potomac- To my far right is the baby carriage that our great leader slept in as a newborn baby- This globe represents the whole planet that Dave traversed. Don't let its size fool you, the world is at least fifty times bigger than this- Renny was inclined to agree with him. But they had orders, and she wasn't prepared to throw them back in Elder Lyons' face... "101," she said. "Tell the others why we're doing this."
The Vault-born seemed pretty good at taking idiocy in stride, after all. And she seemed to pay attention to just about everything; maybe she'd learned more about this than she'd let on.
"It's an investment on Elder Lyons' part," said 101. "The Republic of Dave is one of the most self-sufficient communities for its size in the Capital Wasteland. Rivet City's hydroponics lab produces more food overall, but they've got a larger facility and more resources to draw on. The Republic of Dave produces enough food with only Wasteland soil and limited rainwater to feed themselves and offer a surplus big enough to let them trade with Canterbury Commons and several of the traveling caravans. With a steady supply of aqua pura, the Republic's production should increase at least threefold, possibly more. Elder Lyons intends for Paladin Renny to ensure that we get the majority of that surplus."
"Thank you, 101," said Renny.
Zedd didn't look convinced, though. "So they've got good land," he said. "And good stock. Big deal. The man's an idiot and his citizens aren't much better. Why do we need to play along with his little delusion? We could crunch this place to bits and run it ourselves."
101 glanced to Renny for approval before speaking again. "Because then we would have to run it ourselves," she said. "No matter how productive we could make this place, it would be a waste of Brotherhood time and resources to put our people to work as farmers. Even if it was just a basic training detail for Initiates, we'd still be spending Brotherhood time and Brotherhood manpower to grub around in the dirt. Or clean up after Brahmin." She nodded towards the paddock where her own riding Brahmin (Renny still couldn't believe that) was nibbling at scrubby Wasteland plants alongside the Republic's cattle. "A little humiliation now pays off in having someone else do the dirty work for us for years to come."
"I have to admit," volunteered Balder, "I'd rather kiss up to this guy for a few days than pull another scavving detail in the ruins. I mean, I don't know about you, but risking my life for a case of two hundred year old pork and beans? Doesn't really seem like the greatest value for the bottlecap, if you get my drift."
"Suppose you've got a point," Zedd conceded. "It's still humiliating, though."
"Yes, but it's humiliation that lets us put more of our resources into beating back the mutants and getting serious about tech recovery," said Renny. "So I'm swallowing it, and so will you."
"Yes, ma'am."
Renny sighed inwardly, and glanced to the skies. The election was this afternoon, and the inauguration was scheduled for tomorrow morning at first light- some kind of symbolic move on Dave's part. As far as she was concerned, dawn couldn't come nearly fast enough.
But the sight of the twelve-year-old boy carrying a much-used, much-loved assault rifle with the casual air of a lifelong user, and demanding to know who wanted to speak to "President Daddy", was still just a bit much. She wasn't sure she could keep a straight face-
"Excuse me," murmured Knight 101, too low for the boy to hear. "Paladin? May I speak with him?"
Renny glanced at Zedd, who was scowling fit to scare a mirelurk back into the river, and then to Balder, who gave the impression of barely suppressed laughter. "Be my guest," she murmured in return, and added, Founder knows I don't want to.
101 nodded and turned back to the boy. "Please," she said calmly, "inform President Dave that the observer delegation from the Brotherhood of Steel is here. Our commanding officer is Paladin Renny." She indicated the taller, dark-skinned woman. "We would appreciate an orientation if at all possible."
The boy, a skinny, pale lad with poorly cropped brown hair, nodded once. "I can let you in, then," he said. "Welcome to the Republic of Dave. I'll take you to the Capitol Building right away."
"Nicely done," Renny congratulated 101 as they passed through the gates.
"Kids that young shouldn't be hauling that kind of armament around," muttered Zedd.
"Kids that young already are," 101 answered.
"Squire Maxson doesn't count-"
"I didn't mean Squire Maxson. Have you ever been all the way to the western-"
"Not to interrupt or anything," said Balder, "but is that seriously supposed to be the Capitol?"
'That' was a two-level shack with a hastily nailed-together wooden door and a ramshackle corrugated roof. It seemed appropriate, really. Why should the center of government here- if government it could even be called- look any different from the rest of the buildings scattered around the place? Or smell any different; the whole place reeked of Brahmin. Paladin Renny closed her eyes and tried to tell herself that was a good sign- it meant they were probably pretty productive- but....
Oh, Founder, it was worse on the inside. The walls, the ceiling, the floor, everything was made from wood, most of which looked like it'd been cut centuries ago and scavenged from some other building to keep this one standing up. There were stairs, which she didn't trust, and a couple of pieces of furniture, which at least had the decency to look like they had been cared for. And a radio, which was warbling something from Galaxy News Radio's play list.
Well, at least that was a good sign. The Brotherhood put a lot of effort into keeping that radio station propped up.
The boy led them into the depths of the shack, into what looked like a child's approximation of Elder Lyons' office- filing cabinets, shelves stocked with battered pre-war books, electric lighting, a faded rug of braided rags, a desk. Behind the desk sat a bald man with a narrow face, who dropped a sharp, businesslike nod to the group as they arrived. He didn't speak, but glanced at the armed child leading them instead.
"Presenting Paladin Renny and her delegation from the Brotherhood of Steel, Mr. President," the boy said. "They say they're here to see you."
"Good, good," said the man, who Renny supposed must have been the Dave they'd heard so much about. "Thank you, Ralph. You can go now."
The boy made a broad, clumsy gesture that Renny supposed was meant to be some sort of salute, turned on one heel, and marched out. As for the man behind the desk, he turned and looked up to Renny. "I am Dave," he said without preamble, "President of the Republic of Dave. You and your people will address me as 'Mr. President', or I will have you deported."
Renny didn't need to turn her head at that. She could practicaly hear Knight Zedd's teeth grinding.
"I've met one of your number before." Dave nodded towards Knight 101. "I can't say I recognize the rest of you. May I assume you're here because the Brotherhood recognizes the sovereign Republic of Dave?"
"Our orders are to stand as witnesses in the upcoming election," said Renny, surprised at her own ability to keep a level tone. This was ludicrous. "In return, we're here to open negotiations with the next elected President-"
"Who will, of course, be me," said Dave with a smile.
"Ex...cuse me, sir?" said Renny.
"Oh, well, the point of elections is to give the people a choice," said Dave, "but let's be honest- neither Rosie nor Bob has particularly strong support among the voting adults of this community. After all, neither one of them is me. Nothing short of an act of God could put either one of them at the helm. So you really don't have to worry. As long as you stay on good terms with me between now and then, I can assure you I'm amenable to whatever it is you have to offer."
"WHY haven't we just rolled over these idiots yet?" Zedd demanded as soon as they were clear of the Museum of Dave. "What in blazes does Elder Lyons see in this place? We're the Brotherhood of Steel! We're not supposed to be groveling to some egomaniac dirt farmer. We've got a mission-"
After the 'history lesson' they'd just witnessed- Dave is a world-renowned marksman, known for shooting a fresh apple out of the hand of a raider from across the Potomac- To my far right is the baby carriage that our great leader slept in as a newborn baby- This globe represents the whole planet that Dave traversed. Don't let its size fool you, the world is at least fifty times bigger than this- Renny was inclined to agree with him. But they had orders, and she wasn't prepared to throw them back in Elder Lyons' face... "101," she said. "Tell the others why we're doing this."
The Vault-born seemed pretty good at taking idiocy in stride, after all. And she seemed to pay attention to just about everything; maybe she'd learned more about this than she'd let on.
"It's an investment on Elder Lyons' part," said 101. "The Republic of Dave is one of the most self-sufficient communities for its size in the Capital Wasteland. Rivet City's hydroponics lab produces more food overall, but they've got a larger facility and more resources to draw on. The Republic of Dave produces enough food with only Wasteland soil and limited rainwater to feed themselves and offer a surplus big enough to let them trade with Canterbury Commons and several of the traveling caravans. With a steady supply of aqua pura, the Republic's production should increase at least threefold, possibly more. Elder Lyons intends for Paladin Renny to ensure that we get the majority of that surplus."
"Thank you, 101," said Renny.
Zedd didn't look convinced, though. "So they've got good land," he said. "And good stock. Big deal. The man's an idiot and his citizens aren't much better. Why do we need to play along with his little delusion? We could crunch this place to bits and run it ourselves."
101 glanced to Renny for approval before speaking again. "Because then we would have to run it ourselves," she said. "No matter how productive we could make this place, it would be a waste of Brotherhood time and resources to put our people to work as farmers. Even if it was just a basic training detail for Initiates, we'd still be spending Brotherhood time and Brotherhood manpower to grub around in the dirt. Or clean up after Brahmin." She nodded towards the paddock where her own riding Brahmin (Renny still couldn't believe that) was nibbling at scrubby Wasteland plants alongside the Republic's cattle. "A little humiliation now pays off in having someone else do the dirty work for us for years to come."
"I have to admit," volunteered Balder, "I'd rather kiss up to this guy for a few days than pull another scavving detail in the ruins. I mean, I don't know about you, but risking my life for a case of two hundred year old pork and beans? Doesn't really seem like the greatest value for the bottlecap, if you get my drift."
"Suppose you've got a point," Zedd conceded. "It's still humiliating, though."
"Yes, but it's humiliation that lets us put more of our resources into beating back the mutants and getting serious about tech recovery," said Renny. "So I'm swallowing it, and so will you."
"Yes, ma'am."
Renny sighed inwardly, and glanced to the skies. The election was this afternoon, and the inauguration was scheduled for tomorrow morning at first light- some kind of symbolic move on Dave's part. As far as she was concerned, dawn couldn't come nearly fast enough.