The Big Day, Part 1
May. 9th, 2010 11:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aaaaaaaagh_skyEllen sat up, rubbed at her eyes with the heel of one hand, and swung her legs over the edge of the cot. Everything was stiffer than it had a right to be. She grimaced as the smells of the place hit her nostrils: harsh cleansing chemicals, equipment-generated ozone, scorched greasy burning with a faint hint of turpentine to it, and mucky, murky dankness. All to be expected, of course, but ugh- what a way to wake up. "Dogmeat?" she called as she rubbed her eyes again. "You here, boy?"
A clatter of claws and a poke with a wet nose answered her. She managed a small smile. "Good dog," she said. "Come on, let's go outside."
Morning shadows slanted everywhere as they passed Brick's position. The heavy-weapons specialist eased her minigun, Eugene, to the ground long enough to wave a greeting. "Mornin', sunshine!" she called. "Surprised to see you up this early. You looked halfway to dead last night."
"Oh, I'm okay," Ellen answered. "Dogmeat needed a walk, anyway."
"Well, all right," Brick said. "You two just be careful, now. There's mirelurks down by the water, 'n that pile of dead muties might be on fire still, but it ain't scarin' them none that I can see."
"Thanks for the heads-up," Ellen said. There was no way she could get back inside and put on her armor before Dogmeat did something untoward on the floor, but she'd dug out her Regulator duster and her armored Vault suit, and she at least had her plasma rifle with her. She pretty much always did. "We'll be quick."
True to Brick's word, the mutant pyre was burning. No one had objected to the idea. Yes, it had used up an awful lot of turpentine and Brahmin chips, and yes, it smelled awful, but the alternatives had been worse. Let the greenskin corpses rot and attract God knew what scavengers? Throw them in the very same tidal basin they were trying to purify? Find shovels somewhere and bury the things? Not likely. Burning was the only really sensible alternative everyone could agree on. Ellen had her own reasons for preferring burning to the alternatives, but this was not a crowd likely to think much of the assertion that the mutants had been people once, so she kept her mouth shut. At least it was a respectable way to dispose of the corpses. At least she got a few quiet minutes alone to give whatever was left of them a few last words and prayers.
When she was done, and Dogmeat was done, they headed back in. No one seemed to be awake yet as she made her way through the under-complex of offices and storage spaces below the Memorial proper, though more of the equipment the scientists had brought with them was functioning. She thought for a moment, then changed course. Dad had probably put most of his effort into persuading his central work area to function, if she knew him at all, and that meant the Rotunda. Sure enough, when she eased the door to the Rotunda open, the place was a blaze of light and sound. Generators hummed away in several places, powering the brightest fluorescent lights she'd seen in ages. Computer terminals flickered and hummed. The outer door of the airlock that sealed off the very center of the Project- the giant purification tank built around where the massive bronze statue of Jefferson supposedly stood- let her pass, but the inner one remained sealed, and after a moment she saw why: a pair of radiation-suited figures were working on one of the machines that fed directly into the purification tank. She rapped on the glass of the inner door, and they looked up. One of them stepped away from its work and approached the door.
"Ellen!" said her father, his face just barely visible through the radiation suit. "Good morning! I didn't think you'd be up this early."
"Everyone says that," Ellen answered. "Are you okay in there? The suit-"
"Oh, this old thing?" He laughed. "Don't you worry about that. A precaution, nothing more. We are quite close to a great deal of potentially dangerous water, after all."
"If you say so, Dad," Ellen said dubiously. "Have you slept at all?"
"Mmm.. no, not really," James admitted. "Too much work to be done before we reached a reasonable stopping place. The old mainframe in the basement was absolute murder to get back online, even with Anna helping me every step of the way. I suppose I'll probably go to bed once Madison wakes up and takes my place."
Ellen smiled a little even as she shook her head. "Working with that little sleep-"
"Hasn't killed me yet," James said firmly. "And it's not likely to. If you'd like, though, I could use a bit of help. The flood control valve is stuck shut and I need someone to get out there and open it before we can proceed any further. If you could get that handled, I'll meet you downstairs and we can have breakfast together. How does that sound?"
"Sure," said Ellen with a smile. "I'd like that."
A clatter of claws and a poke with a wet nose answered her. She managed a small smile. "Good dog," she said. "Come on, let's go outside."
Morning shadows slanted everywhere as they passed Brick's position. The heavy-weapons specialist eased her minigun, Eugene, to the ground long enough to wave a greeting. "Mornin', sunshine!" she called. "Surprised to see you up this early. You looked halfway to dead last night."
"Oh, I'm okay," Ellen answered. "Dogmeat needed a walk, anyway."
"Well, all right," Brick said. "You two just be careful, now. There's mirelurks down by the water, 'n that pile of dead muties might be on fire still, but it ain't scarin' them none that I can see."
"Thanks for the heads-up," Ellen said. There was no way she could get back inside and put on her armor before Dogmeat did something untoward on the floor, but she'd dug out her Regulator duster and her armored Vault suit, and she at least had her plasma rifle with her. She pretty much always did. "We'll be quick."
True to Brick's word, the mutant pyre was burning. No one had objected to the idea. Yes, it had used up an awful lot of turpentine and Brahmin chips, and yes, it smelled awful, but the alternatives had been worse. Let the greenskin corpses rot and attract God knew what scavengers? Throw them in the very same tidal basin they were trying to purify? Find shovels somewhere and bury the things? Not likely. Burning was the only really sensible alternative everyone could agree on. Ellen had her own reasons for preferring burning to the alternatives, but this was not a crowd likely to think much of the assertion that the mutants had been people once, so she kept her mouth shut. At least it was a respectable way to dispose of the corpses. At least she got a few quiet minutes alone to give whatever was left of them a few last words and prayers.
When she was done, and Dogmeat was done, they headed back in. No one seemed to be awake yet as she made her way through the under-complex of offices and storage spaces below the Memorial proper, though more of the equipment the scientists had brought with them was functioning. She thought for a moment, then changed course. Dad had probably put most of his effort into persuading his central work area to function, if she knew him at all, and that meant the Rotunda. Sure enough, when she eased the door to the Rotunda open, the place was a blaze of light and sound. Generators hummed away in several places, powering the brightest fluorescent lights she'd seen in ages. Computer terminals flickered and hummed. The outer door of the airlock that sealed off the very center of the Project- the giant purification tank built around where the massive bronze statue of Jefferson supposedly stood- let her pass, but the inner one remained sealed, and after a moment she saw why: a pair of radiation-suited figures were working on one of the machines that fed directly into the purification tank. She rapped on the glass of the inner door, and they looked up. One of them stepped away from its work and approached the door.
"Ellen!" said her father, his face just barely visible through the radiation suit. "Good morning! I didn't think you'd be up this early."
"Everyone says that," Ellen answered. "Are you okay in there? The suit-"
"Oh, this old thing?" He laughed. "Don't you worry about that. A precaution, nothing more. We are quite close to a great deal of potentially dangerous water, after all."
"If you say so, Dad," Ellen said dubiously. "Have you slept at all?"
"Mmm.. no, not really," James admitted. "Too much work to be done before we reached a reasonable stopping place. The old mainframe in the basement was absolute murder to get back online, even with Anna helping me every step of the way. I suppose I'll probably go to bed once Madison wakes up and takes my place."
Ellen smiled a little even as she shook her head. "Working with that little sleep-"
"Hasn't killed me yet," James said firmly. "And it's not likely to. If you'd like, though, I could use a bit of help. The flood control valve is stuck shut and I need someone to get out there and open it before we can proceed any further. If you could get that handled, I'll meet you downstairs and we can have breakfast together. How does that sound?"
"Sure," said Ellen with a smile. "I'd like that."