Out of the Vault

The copy of Ow, My Arm!: Large-Animal Obstetrics For The First-Year Veterinary Student that Ellen had bought from Milliways was coming in handy. With two of her three cows pregnant, Ellen spent almost as much time tending to the cattle as to the plot of Oasis seeds. She'd been hiring people from Megaton to help her with them, since she had Brotherhood duties to attend to. She'd privately decided to give the first female calf to the Landises, a family she'd hired who lived in the Megaton common house. They'd been absolutely indispensable, and deserved a crack at making a living through a cow of their own.

Not that she had any idea whether either Thelma and Louise or Rachel and Leah was carrying a female calf. The text presupposed that any veterinary student worth the name would have access to ultrasound machines and the equipment to perform chorionic villus sampling, if it was so important to determine an unborn calf's gender. Vault 101 had had an ultrasound machine, but as for the other...

Well, it didn't matter. There'd be a girl calf eventually.

In the meantime there was manure to gather, most for fertilizer for the sandy Wasteand soil, some to dry as fuel. Not the pleasantest of jobs, but it wasn't like she had to do it every time, and at least it was useful. She'd filled her carrying basket halfway when the sound of a throat being cleared made her look up. "Oh," she said. "Hi, Harden."

Sheriff Simms' young son smiled, just for a moment. "Hey, Knight-Sergeant," he said; his father had drilled manners into him long ago. "Dad, uh... Dad needs you up at the city gates."

"Oh dear." Ellen straightened up, adjusting her grip on the basket. "Is it an emergency?"

"No, but he said be quick if you can manage, and leave the cow poo here."

Ellen blinked, but nodded. "Tell him I'll be up in a moment," she said.

"Thanks," said Hardin, and ran off.

Huh. That wasn't... that wasn't usual. Sheriff Simms wouldn't have bothered summoning her for a new trader, and if it was a Brotherhood delegation he'd have had Harden say so. Maybe... maybe it was Outcasts? She'd been seeing them in the distance a lot lately when she traveled to the old Robco facility. Maybe some of them had followed her, to make trouble? Good thing she always carried her Gauss rifle, just in case Wasteland wildlife tried to breach the fence around the grazing area...

She leaned the gathering-basket against a rock and set off towards the town walls, wiping her hands off as best she could. No sense looking as bad as she smelled, if it was Outcasts. They barely believed her when she told them she was with Lyons anyway.

But there were no black-and-red armored soldiers at the gates, no robots other than Deputy Weld. The first form Ellen picked out was Sheriff Simms in his duster and cowboy hat. That, she expected. But the other two...

Ellen quickened her stride. The other two figures were wearing neither armor nor Brahmin skin, but suits of blue and gold.

"-any minute now," she heard Sheriff Simms saying. "Depends just where she-"

"Holy shit," blurted the taller of the two Vault arrivals. "Ellen?"

She realized, as she raised one hand to greet Freddie Gomez and Susie Mack for the first time in longer than she could remember, just what a figure she must have presented. She was wearing the armored Vault suit Moira had given her, patched and battered and stained with God alone knew what. The Brahmin dung she'd been gathering clung to boots and suit alike despite her efforts to the contrary. There was no way to wash the Wasteland dust from her face outside the city walls, or get it out of her hair, and there was no way at all to cover her scars. And, yes, she smelled- of her own sweat, of Brahmin. To the wide-eyed, clean-scrubbed pair so obviously just come from Vault 101, she must have looked like the old Overseer's idea of a perfect argument in favor of slamming the Vault door and ever opening it ever again. "Um," she said, watching the color drain from Christine's face. "Hi there. It's, ah-"

"There you are," Sheriff Simms smoothly interjected, a thing for which Ellen would be forever grateful. "I was just about to tell our two new arrivals about you, but it looks as if you three know each other already."

"I thought we did," said Christine faintly. "Now I'm not so sure."

Freddie darted a look down at her, then turned to Ellen. "What I think Christine's trying to say is, it's been a while, hasn't it?" He attempted a smile. It didn't quite work, but it was a game effort. "I guess this makes things a little easier. We were just-"

"Overseer Amata Almodovar sends greetings from the people of Vault 101 to the people of the Capital Wasteland," blurted Christine. "And expresses an interest in opening trade relations if there's anything up here worth trading for. Oh God."

Simms, who clearly wanted to laugh at the whole thing, glanced in Ellen's direction. "Tell you what," he said. "Why don't we carry on the rest of this conversation somewhere nicer? Are either of you two hungry or thirsty?"

"No, sir," said Freddie. Christine shook her head. "I mean- no, thank you."

Simms nodded. "In that case," he said, "why don't you two come with me, while Knight-Sergeant Park gets herself tidied up and presentable. I think we've got a lot to discuss with you Vault folks."