Speak Softly

There was a holotape.

It arrived in the hands of a robot that got as far as the Wabash Bridge. The guards there said the thing'd been carrying a white flag, whatever that meant. They brought a lot of scrap metal and parts back with the tape, and a fission battery, so at least the robot wasn't a total loss. Ashur nodded and told them to take the parts down to Everett, and when they'd left and it was just him and his closest inner circle of raiders, reached for the holotape player.

"This is a message for Lord Ishamael Ashur of the Pitt," the tape began. "Please make sure that it reaches him."

Reddup hissed and went for his gun; Ashur paused the tape and looked up at him. "You need to calm down," he said, with an equanimity he didn't truly feel. "It's just a recording. She's not actually here."

Reddup scowled. So did Krenshaw and Squill. Ashur waited for them to stand down before pressing play.

"Lord Ashur, in case you don't remember this voice, this is 101, of the Capital Wasteland," the tape went on. "I'm sending you this recording via Protectron as a gift. I hope it reaches you in one piece, because we went to a lot of trouble to build it."

"Yes, build. The Pitt's industry is something to behold, but it's not the only industry in the world these days. We're building Protectrons in the Capital now, and I believe we can mutually benefit each other."

"Shit. Robots? They're really building-"

"They're lying, Krenshaw. They have to be," said Ashur, although his thoughts were racing. "We'd have heard from our workforce by now if that were true."

"I dunno, boss. The Capital's a big place. These nimrods we get up here ain't exactly the sort to go real far from home..."

Ashur had to admit, Krenshaw was right. Most of the Capital's dirt farmers and scavengers had barely even gone far enough from their homes to lose sight of their houses before they'd been taken to the Pitt. He nodded, and pressed play again.

"They're industrial model Protectrons. No lasers, just labor. I was able to reactivate five original pre-war Protectrons and put them to work on an abandoned pre-war factory. They're as good as a workforce of thirty humans- they don't eat, they don't sleep, they don't complain about environmental conditions, they don't wander off-task, and they don't revolt. With their help I've built a considerable number of new Protectrons, and I've brought them down to the Pitt for your perusal. By the time this tape reaches you, someone with a pair of binoculars ought to be able to see them from the taller walls of Downtown- they're on the other side of the bridge, just out of your snipers' range."

Ashur hit the pause button immediately and gestured sharply to the door guard. "Send someone to verify that," he ordered. "And find out why I wasn't warned."

She nodded and ran out of the room; Ashur pressed play again.

"Here's the thing, Ashur. You've taken a lot of people to feed to the Pitt's Mill," said 101's voice on the tape. "The Capital's tired of losing people. We've bled enough. We can provide you with a workforce superior to the one you've got now, but it's not a supplement. It's a substitute. We'll trade you. One robot for the freedom of four workers, plus a certain amount of metal and parts to take back with us for the next round of building. If people want to stay in the Pitt and work for you, we're not going to stop them. . . but if you want workers who won't ever get sick and don't need to be fed or beaten into submission, you're going to have to let the unwilling ones go. Four workers and a reasonable amount of steel in exchange for machines capable of doing the work of five people. That's not a bad price. Send somebody to check out the robots, so you know I'm as good as my word. We're not going anywhere. And think about it- I'll look for your answer in a week."

Ashur leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled in front of his face as he stared at the holotape player, and let out a long, long breath.

The Big Stick

There was another tape. This one also arrived by Protectron. Specifically, by a Protectron marked for some reason with a pair of snakes wrapped around a winged stick. It'd gotten halfway across the Bridge and stopped to hold up a sign- a sign!- asking for permission to approach further, so they'd brought it as far as the steps of Haven. Then it'd told the guards that its message was for Lord Ashur and his wife alone, handed them a tape, and refused to move any further.

Nobody really felt like giving the robot any shit, so they took Ashur the tape. Sandra grabbed Marie from her playpen and the three of them retreated to their private rooms. "If anyone comes looking for me," Ashur told the outer guards, "they can damn well wait five minutes. Unless they want to be tied to a fence post facing trog territory from the next sundown to sunrise."

When it was quiet, really and properly quiet, Ashur slotted the holotape into the player.

"This is a message for Lord Ishamael Ashur of the Pitt, formerly Paladin Ishamael Ashur of the Lost Hills Brotherhood of Steel," said the same voice as before. "From Paladin 101 of the Capital Wasteland Brotherhood of Steel, serving under Senior Paladin Tristan at Elder Owyn Lyons' command."

Sandra glanced at her husband; his expression was blank.

"I hope this message finds you well, Lord Ashur. First of all, I'd like to apologize for not having been immediately up front with you when last we met. I was on a mission at the time, and... well, to be honest, it really wasn't my best day. I made some bad judgment calls that day, to put things mildly. Please be assured that what I did tell you was absolutely true: my mission was to find Dave, of the Republic of Dave, and return him to the Capital. Nothing more. If I had found him anywhere along the route between the Capital and the Pitt, I would have taken him back then and that would have been the end of it. Finding your city, and finding you, was a complete surprise."

Ashur huffed a mild, humorless laugh, but let the tape roll on.

"The reason I was sent in the first place is because the Brotherhood has a much bigger place in the Capital Wasteland than I think you know. You said when I met you that the Brotherhood was nothing but scavengers, that they didn't know what it takes to run a city. Things have changed since you last knew us. We've wiped out the source of the supermutants. We've taken down the last refuge of the Enclave. We've begun providing clean water and armed protection to communities across the Wasteland- and, yes, we've begun building our own robots. With a fallen RobCo plant we've restored to working condition, and with wind turbines we built ourselves to power the factory twice over."

"The point is that the people of the Wasteland have their own leaders, but they look to us for protection now. They take our water and they give us food and recruitment rights in return. It's a mutually beneficial agreement, but it only holds as long as we live up to our end of the bargain. And that, in a nutshell, is why I'm here."

"Lord Ashur, the Pitt's policies may be sound for you and for your people, but they're a threat to me and mine- and Elder Lyons agrees with me. I know your daughter represents the best hope your city has for a cure-"

Marie, who hadn't quite got the hang of speaking yet, fussed in her mother's arms. Sandra found her teddy bear and shushed the baby until she calmed down.

"-but that's a very long game to play. My father was a scientist and it took him nineteen years to accomplish something as simple as large-scale water purification in the Potomac, with the resources of Rivet City and the protection of the Brotherhood. Your resources are limited and your daughter is the only example of what you hope to accomplish. Your people are dying or turning trog every day. You might have the time to study Marie's genetic gift, but they don't."

"And since your people are being taken from under our protection, neither do we."

"Lord Ashur, I suggest in the strongest possible terms that you accept the robot workforce I am offering you. They are solid, skilled workers of a model that was in production and use at the Mill before the Great War, and even then one robot could do the work of five humans. They require a small amount of recharge time and maintenance, but no food or drink or health care. We would rather have you as a partner in commerce than as a threat. Your industry would do us good, and our robots would do your industry good, and the end of slave-taking to feed the Pitt would do the entire Wasteland good. It would be a win-win situation."

The voice on the tape sighed. When she spoke again, 101 sounded very, very tired.

"But just in case you don't see it the same way, or your army of raiders doesn't see it the same way... I gave you one week to decide about the robots because if you choose not to take them, you're going to need time to evacuate the Pitt."

"Lord Ashur, I really, really hate to do this. The fact is that we can't allow you to continue as you've been doing. Either you accept the robot work force, begin releasing your slaves and cease all taking of new slaves, or in seven days' time the Pitt will be destroyed by orbital weapons fire. Since I don't expect you to take that on faith, the warning shot will be fired at a point to the north and west of the city at one PM today."

"Thank you for your time and consideration, Lord Ashur. I'll be waiting for your answer."