Some Months Ago

"Okay, that's enough," said Ishamael Ashur, Lord of the Pitt, as the last round of gunfire died away. "Cut him down, and let's get the head on display. I want it absolutely clear what the price for treason and insurrection is around here."

As Lulu and O-Dog scrambled forward to cut the bullet-riddled corpse free, Ashur passed a hand over his face. Wernher had been nothing but trouble for months on end. As second in command, he'd been a damned fine resource; as an ambitious upstart, well... Ashur was just glad they'd finally run him to ground. He'd been trying to sneak yet another outsider into the city to help him rally the workers to riot and go after Marie. That kind of thing was not to be borne, and people needed to know it.

He turned away as O-Dog fired up an auto-axe. Decapitations were a messy business, and he didn't have his helmet on. Besides, his second in command was trying to get his attention. "Yes?" Ashur said, lifting one eyebrow. "What is it?"

"I just got a message from the guys on bridge duty," Krenshaw said. "New guy, looking for work- soldier work. You're gonna like this... he says he used to be a merc in the Capital Wasteland."

"Really."

Fifteen minutes later, Ashur leaned back in his chair as two of his raiders escorted a third man into his office at the top of the ancient Cathedral of Learning. The black-armored newcomer had the wary, one-step-from-twitching look Ashur knew all too well; most newcomers to the Pitt looked like that, whether they were there as workers or whether they were there to join the city's army. Surviving the journey tended to leave that mark on you. More importantly, though, the man had taken a moment to sweep his gaze over the whole office before turning back to face Ashur in silence.

"In case you weren't told," said Ashur after some silence of his own, "this is an unusual situation. I don't normally meet with just anybody who waltzes up to my city's gates."

"Smart move," said the man. His voice was hoarse, the sound of someone who'd spent a long time smoking whatever could be rolled up in paper and set to slow burning. "My old commander didn't either. So what makes me so special?"

Ashur smiled, or at least turned up the corners of his mouth. Genuine smiles were hard for him to muster, these days. "I've been told," he said, "that you hail from the Capital."

"Yeah, I did, once," said the man. "My company used to be based out of there, before our commander got his ass killed and the new captain pulled us out."

That was worth a mental note. Ashur nodded and said, "Your new leader wasn't to your liking?"

"I didn't sign up with Talon Company to fight for the fun of it," the man said dryly. "I signed up because Jabsco guaranteed jobs that'd get us paid. The new guy hasn't been what you'd call reliable on that front."

"Well, I can assure you that's not a problem for my soldiers here in the Pitt," said Ashur. "I make sure my people are provided for- assuming they're good enough, of course."

"Sounds like you got an entrance exam," the man observed.

"You could say that," Ashur said, nodding. "You wouldn't be far wrong. And for you, I'll even start with the oral component, instead of the practical. You're from the Capital, so tell me... have you ever heard of a woman called '101'?"

"Oh fucking Christ, she's not here, is she?" The man's hand was groping for the weapon he'd left with the guards. "Tell me she's not here-"

Both of Ashur's eyebrows shot up at that.

"That bitch killed more of Talon Company than the goddamn mutants!" With a visible effort, the man got hold of himself. "We got a contract to take her out a year back and we started going after her. Guys who found her- most of them didn't make it back."

"'Most of them'?"

"Yeah, well, she pretty much took down everybody who crossed her path, but once in a while she'd let somebody go. Take their armor and give 'em a pistol or a knife and a stimpak or something as a token, and tell 'em to warn Commander Jabsco to leave her alone if he didn't want to lose more of his men." He fidgeted. "She and some pals of hers took out my whole squad. Turned a bunch of guys I'd known for years into piles of green goo. Jabsco doubled the bounty on her head when I told him, not that it did him a hell of a lot of good. She rounded up some more people and wiped out most of Fort Bannister after that...."

"I see," said Ashur calmly, although his thoughts were racing. "And that's when your new commander decided to pull out of the Capital."

"Yeah, and I'd've done the same in his shoes." The man shuddered. "No bounty's worth it. You cross that bitch's path, you're only coming out of it alive because she wants you alive."

And she'd tracked one man to the Pitt just to find him and bring him back, Ashur thought. That had been a week ago. What else had she said...

( "Believe me, I intend to come back here. I'm sorry I can't do what needs to be done here right now." )

Damn.

"I see," Ashur finally said. "What's your name?"

"Adam. My name's Adam."

"All right then, Adam," said Ashur. "I think I'd like to ask you a few more questions about your experiences with Talon Company- and about this 101 woman. We'll get to the practical part of the hiring exam just as soon as I've settled a few other things."

"Just as long as she's not anywhere around here," said Adam. "I'm not sticking around this city if she is. I'll take my chances with the cannibals."

Ashur nodded, and steepled his fingers.

Split Jack

Until a man is twenty-five, he still thinks, every so often, that under the right circumstances he could be the baddest motherfucker in the world. If I moved into the yao guai tunnels and ran with the bears for ten years. If my gang was wiped out by the Regulators and I swore myself to revenge. If I got a fatal disease, had one year to live, and devoted it to wiping out Deathclaws. If I just dropped out and devoted my life to being bad.

Split Jack used to feel this way, too, but then he ran into 101. In a way, this was liberating. He no longer has to worry about being the baddest motherfucker in the world. The position is taken.

At least, that's what he tells the Pitt bosses when they come looking for him in the slave pens. When they say they're looking for anyone from the Capital. When the asshole he pissed off on his first day in the steelyard shoves him forward and tells them here, this guy, this is the one you want. The big one, O-dog, he's not impressed. It's easy for somebody who already lost to call someone else a badass, since it means they're not to blame for losing. But Jack didn't get as far as he did in the Capital by lying down and giving up. He's a talker and a damn good one, and so O-dog gets to hear the whole story. The Brotherhood's water plan. Rivet City's part in the deal. How he was going to drive them out of the business and take over protection himself, until 101 showed up with that kid and that Frankenstein in tow.

(The crowning touch, the one thing that really puts true world-class badmotherfuckerdom totally out of reach, of course, is the Frankenstein. If it wasn't for the goddamn mutant, a man could still aspire. Maybe find 101's Achilles' heel. Sneak up, get a drop, slip a mickey, pull a fast one. But 101's mutant umbrella kind of puts the world title out of reach.)

O-dog's never heard of a mutant like that, but the thing had a Gatling laser, and O-dog's seen what happens to guys on the wrong end of those. So he pulls Jack out of the pen and tells him they're going to have a long talk, and Jack's going to tell him everything he's ever heard about this 101 bitch. Not just what happened the day she dismantled everything Jack ever built and sent him and his gang into the Wastes with one gun for nine people, everything. Even if it's just rumor, Ashur wants to know. And Jack nods, and starts trying to remember everything Three Dog's ever said about 101. The man said a lot, and none of it makes Jack look all that great by comparison.

Which is okay. Sometimes it's all right just to be a little bad. To know your limitations. Make do with what you've got.

[OOC: thank you, Neal Stephenson.]