The Sea Cave

Ellen kind of hated poor Toad a little bit.

It wasn't his fault. Toad had been nothing but helpful to the 'spirit'. He'd made sure to avoid drawing attention to himself and his all-but-invisible companion when he led her away from the cathedral grounds. He'd pointed out the remains of a graveyard where the rotting-men (she assumed he meant ghouls) lurked. He'd even shown her, entirely unbidden, the path that Jackson had taken his volunteers down when they'd gone to attack the rotting-man in the house with the dogs, and said that not everybody was crazy enough to volunteer for that.

It was just that Jackson's praying place was only accessible through a gap in the wreckage of a decrepit pre-war boat, and the cathedral and the grounds around it were kind of a lot above sea level. And, well, Jackson had never bothered cutting a proper path down to the bottom, so he- and Toad- had to make their way down by climbing hand and foot along a set of slippery, spray-damp rocks. Toad had no problem with it, of course. It was pretty simple, as far as he was concerned. And he was just sure the Lone Wanderer could float down, being a spirit and all.

Brain-damaged or no, Ellen kind of hated him for making that assumption.

At least he didn't insist on sticking around to watch. When she bid him farewell he loped off, back towards the cathedral, and didn't so much as glance her way. She picked her way down as best she could, resolved never, ever to tell anyone she was a spirit ever again, and eventually pried open the hole in the boat. Privately she hoped it would lead her to Milliways, so she could at least get changed and dry off for a bit- but no. No Bar. Just a tunnel that led into a wider tunnel that led into a series of caves that stank of mirelurks and damp.

So, really, nothing new there at all.

She could probably have taken the giant crabs down without too much trouble, but that would've been a waste. There was fish meat aplenty back at the Blackhall house; why go through that much of a fight with armored beasts for meat that would never end up being eaten? Especially since sound carried and echoed in caves like this, and Jackson was here somewhere. The goggles were absolutely clear on that- one human scent trail through the tunnels, orange and bright and fresh. Losing her stealth field temporarily was worth knowing that for sure.

(It would have been nice to have Dogmeat with her, though. Just in case. He'd followed her and Toad at a distance, but the cliff was more than even the heeler's formidable tenacity could handle. He was waiting back at the top instead, or at least Ellen hoped he was.)

She eased her way through the tunnels, taking extra care not to attract mirelurk attention by noise or motion. The experience was- not quite agonizing, but definitely not something she wanted to do twice. If Jackson actually came here to pray, he sure didn't need to prove his level of-

"At last, yes!"

She flattened herself against a rock outcropping, ripped off the goggles, and pulled the suit's headpiece over her face. Concentrating on the scent trail and on avoiding the mirelurks, she'd completely missed the dimly glowing blue light up ahead- the one with a human figure kneeling in front of it. Cautiously, and with her stealth field engaged, she crept closer.

"Desmond will die," said the voice- male, tenor, a little oddly accented but still understandable. "And our long struggle will finally end the only way it could have-"

The blue light... it wasn't a lamp. It was a hologram. She'd seen them before, all over the alien ship. What was the human- what was Jackson- doing kneeling in front of a hologram of... was that a brain?

"-with ME as the victor!" the speaker concluded triumphantly.

"Yes!" agreed Jackson, bobbing his whole body. "And you will be able to spread your knowledge across the astral plane for all those wise enough to accept it!"

"No, not astral knowledge, you simpleton!" the... brain hologram... snapped. "Psychic domination! And that still won't be possible until you destroy Desmond's jamming device."

"No need to worry, Enlightened One," said Jackson soothingly. "We shall re-consecrate the mansion, and remove the impurities disrupting your perfect guidance."

"Yes, fine, go destroy the house and its 'impurities'," snarled the brain. "Just stop that jammer, and I'll be free of you morons, once and for all!"

"Yes," said Jackson, "we shall be free of all limitations! Thank you, master. We shall be the instruments of your mighty will."

The brain muttered something, and the hologram winked out. Ellen couldn't help but remember poor Harold, grumbling about the Treeminders never actually listening. She smiled for a moment, but only a moment. There was, after all, still Jackson to deal with.

(And, she remembered a bit guiltily, to ask about Whydah and Morgan. She'd been so angry at what Toad told her that the paladins had completely slipped her mind.)

Jackson didn't look chemmed enough, and didn't sound brain-damaged enough, for her to think the spirit trick would work on him. She switched off the stealth field, but left the headpiece in place, and tapped him on the shoulder.

He turned- still kneeling- and looked up at her. There was no face to see, of course, only the armor's blank gold expanse of faceplate. What must have been going on in his scarred, painted head she didn't know, but there was a light in his eyes that made her think she didn't want to know. "Hello?' he said. "You are... a fellow seeker of the higher planes, perhaps? What brings you here?"

"Oh, yes, I was drawn here by your eternal wisdom," Ellen said.

She'd given it all the sarcasm she could, but... well. "How wonderful!" Jackson said, spreading his hands. "Perhaps you shall be the one who can clear the holy land of its disruptive presence!"

"Wait, what?"

"Oh, but the Transcendent Master will want to hear of this!" Jackson burbled. "Just as He wanted to hear of the two who came to us in armor. As one so obviously led to this place from the mists of long ago and far away, it is your right and honor to tell him yourself!"

"Wait, what about the armor?" Ellen said. Too late. Jackson was on a roll.

"After all, it is He who makes all true decisions about the spiritual growth of our tribe. Including the decision to cleanse the mansion. It is very rare that others are permitted to commune with the Master..."

"Are you even hearing anything I say or is the other half of this conversation going on inside your skull too?"

"Many are too foolish to understand the great truths of his higher mind. But I sense in you a great potential."

"Why does that fill me with dread?"

"Perhaps you have what is needed to accept His teachings and grow from His wisdom, traveler out of the past. He manifests here; I have just been communicating with him. Reach out to him, if you can, and all shall be revealed."

"….yyyyyeah," said Ellen slowly. "Yeah. I'll do that."

"Commune with him while I see to my tribe," said Jackson, coming to his feet. "There is much to be done."

She let him go. If he was responsible for what had become of his tribe's brains, she'd find him again later. He'd mentioned 'the two who came to us in armor'; if that was Whydah and Morgan, she needed to hear what this Transcendent Master knew before making any rash moves or decisions. So she waited until she could no longer hear his footfalls echo in the cave, then turned to the hologram machine and pushed the only button she could find. Sure enough, the brain hologram winked into life again.

"So," the brain said, "you're the mouse I heard scurrying around here. And in a Crimson Dragoon suit, too. I haven't seen one of those since I last had a body. If you're not drooling all over yourself under there, I can work with that."

Ellen wasn't exactly sure how you could determine a Master's level of Transcendence, but she was pretty sure that wasn't what a really Transcendent one sounded like.

"Now then," the brain continued, "perhaps you can be more useful than that simpering spiritualist and his tribe of idiots. Or those bucket-headed ninnies he sent my way."

"Useful?" Ellen blurted. "What are you using them for?"

She meant the paladins. The brain didn't seem to notice. It dismissively said, "At the moment, they've been no use at all, but I have very few options. Those morons can't even seem to remove a single ghoul from a house."

"Even the armored ones?"

"Bah. They're of even less use to me; they won't take orders. They'll make excellent subjects once my plans are complete, but for now they're nothing but prisoners," said the brain. "The only pressing matter at the moment is the ghoul in Calvert Mansion. He has a jammer that limits my projection range to this pathetic cave. Remove that, and I can extend my reach so much further... Killing Desmond would be a nice plus, of course, but I'm sure we can get around to THAT later."

Ellen stared at the brain. "And why," she finally said, "would I want to do that? We've only just met."

"Why, my dear would-be Dragoon," the brain said, "because once I can properly exert my psychic domination over the entire region, I can offer you the greatest reward any human could ever hope for. I've been at this business longer than your squishy pink mind can imagine and I intend to be the winner. You want to be on the winning side in this."

It was, Ellen thought, something of a pity that one could not punch a hologram senseless. At least it couldn't see her face; after a few moments' horrified silence she merely nodded and said, "I'll see what I can do."

"Good. Away with you!" snapped the brain, and the hologram winked out.

Ellen turned towards the passage out of the cave and set off at a run. The last thing she wanted was to be anywhere near that thing's influence.