Arrival

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

It’s been a long, long way across country from where they started, but Ellen hasn’t complained. Paladin Renny was abundantly clear: find the people who stole Dave, and find Dave, and bring Dave back. There really wasn’t much leeway in that regardless of how you looked at it.

At least they found the ancient railway lines somewhere in the belly of Pennsylvania. No ghouls here, thank God. Just the giant roaches, and the ants as big as Ellen, and rats and other things best left to the imagination. More importantly, there were the handcarts. Ellen had seen them in a couple of old vids- wheeled things that ran on railroad tracks that had to be pumped by at least two humans. The work involved was immense, but it was a much, much faster trip than anything that could be done on foot. Somebody had begun the process of renovating and maintaining those tracks in the past two hundred years. Maybe one day Ellen would find out who.

Today is not that that day. Tomorrow is not looking good either. Today is the day when the cart comes to a halt just inside the mouth of a railroad tunnel that smells of industrial chemicals and burning. Someone’s scrawled WELCOME TO THE PITT – BRIDGE 1 MI. THAT WAY in rust-colored paint on one wall of the tunnel. Beyond lies what looks like a pre-War rail yard, under clouded, smog-coated skies.

Ellen rubs at her nose with the back of one hand. “I’m really not looking forward to doing this in reverse,” she mutters. “Maybe I can get Fawkes to help with a Milliways door…”

Comments

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"My people in there. They're counting on me," says Wernher. "They're slaves. I got out of there to try and find someone who could infiltrate without being recognized, but-"

He glances at the corpse again.

"Well. You saw how that worked out."

[boston_bruiser]

Voodoo momentarily loosens his grip on the M60, then tightens it - there's more to this than what Wernher's letting on, he can feel it.

"If your boys're all slaves, and you're trying to get 'em out, how come those raiders didn't plug you the moment they saw you?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"It's fight season," says Wernher. "When they open up the Hole to all comers. Sometimes they warm up the gladiators by throwing troublemakers in there instead of volunteers for the first couple of rounds. They probably planned on making an example out of me."

[boston_bruiser]

Next, the all-important question:

"How do I know you're telling the truth?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"Why the fuck do you even care?" says Wernher. "Who are you, anyway? I've never seen you before in my life. What do you have to do with me?"

[boston_bruiser]

"I care because you might be some asshole lookin' to start shit. We're after someone in the city, and until we're sure he's intact, we want things nice and quiet."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"After someone," repeats Wernher. "Is this the kind of after that ends with a bullet through the head, or were you planning on trying to get in and out of the Pitt alive?"

[boston_bruiser]

"I said we want him intact, genius. What do you think?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"A lot of people have personal vendettas around here. That whole 'only I'm allowed to kill you' thing," says Wernher. "They outnumber the people who think they're capable of getting anybody back from the Pitt alive by a hell of a lot. I should know. I've been looking ever since I escaped."

Ellen's still here, and still listening. She's just activated her suit's stealth field and crept up to the top of one of the box cars, that's all. It's easier to keep an eye out for trouble if trouble can't see you've taken up an elevated position- and she can still hear Wernher just fine, thanks.

[boston_bruiser]

"Well, since you want me to fuckin' spell it out, no, we don't wanna kill him. He's a VIP from the Capitol we're trying to get back home."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"You have got to be kidding me," says Wernher, after a moment's stunned silence. "You came all that way for one man? That's insane."

"I have orders," says the Ellen-shaped blur, just barely loud enough to be heard. "I was told to bring him back, and I will."

Wernher's one good eye (the right one; the left socket is covered by a patch, and surrounded by scar tissue) narrows. "You're not kidding," he says. "What do you know. A couple of heroes, huh? Maybe we can help each other..."

[boston_bruiser]

Voodoo can hear the ellipse. And he does not like it.

"Before you start getting any wise-ass ideas, I think you should check where you are. Your helper's dead. You're on the wrong end of my '60. We're the only two people willing to help you for miles around. You ain't in a position to make demands."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"And you two've never been anywhere near this city before, let alone inside it," says Wernher. "This isn't a place that takes kindly to outsiders. The whole thing's a nightmare of radiation, mutation, disease- you name it. And that's before Ashur's people come into the picture."

"Ashur?" says some patch of shadow or other up on top of the train cars nearby.

"The man who calls himself Lord of the Pitt. These guys?" Wernher indicates the raider corpses. "They work for him."

[boston_bruiser]

Ever listen to a story that you knew was going to end badly but couldn't bear to stop listening?

This is like that.

Voodoo nods to Wernher. "Go on."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"The city's too sick to survive on its own," Wernher says. "The air, the water- it's poisonous as hell. Live here a few years, and it'll get you no matter what you do. Ashur and his gang run the place by force and buy or capture as many slaves as they can to keep the city going. They work them to death and go out and get more. Give the bosses and their goons trouble, and you're lucky if they just kill you."

"Then what are you going back for?" says the blur. "You said that man came from somewhere else to help you?"

Wernher nods. "The bastards in charge aren't any less likely to get sick than we are," he says. "They've been studying things. Experimenting. They've found a way to cure it. My only chance at setting my people free is to get somebody into Ashur's circle. If we can get that cure away from them, we'll have enough leverage to change things."

[boston_bruiser]

"How'll that help us find our guy?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"Ashur's people have free reign anywhere they want in the Pitt," says Wernher. "If they decide they want to pull somebody out of the slave barracks for any reason, they can, and nobody gives a damn. Nobody stops them from leaving the city with slaves in tow, either."

[boston_bruiser]

"You didn't answer my question."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"You're trying to get us to do all the heavy lifting for you," says Ellen suddenly, hopping down from the boxcar and shimmering back into sight. "You want one of us to sneak in there and infiltrate this Ashur person's household so that we can get you what you need, and then leave us to wander around the whole city trying to find the one thing we actually want so we can leave with it before you start putting the screws on the people in charge."

"Uh-"

"How exactly were we supposed to pass ourselves off as raiders, anyway? If they're such bigwigs around here I'm pretty sure they'd all know each other by now. Not to mention that neither of us exactly looks sick, thank you."

Wernher scowls. "I told you before, it's fight season," he says. "Anybody who makes it all the way through the fights with the gladiators in the Hole and comes out on top gets their freedom and joins Ashur and his crowd-"

"So, what, you were trying to get one of us to pass ourselves off as a slave who wound up outside the fence somehow?" Ellen stares at him, although the effect is a little spoiled by her suit's mask being nothing but featureless gold. "And maybe being able to survive a fighting tournament against people who do that kind of thing for a living? How come you're not the one in the Hole if it's so important?"

"They'd never let me do it," says Wernher. "Win, I mean. I have a reputation. Even if I killed every last one of the Hole fighters with my bare hands I'd still be executed before they let me out of there. It has to be somebody else."

"And nobody in the Pitt is willing to do it themselves?"

"Willing? Sure. Able? I doubt it," says Wernher. "We're not talking about people who've had a whole lot of time to learn how to fight. Being a slave in a steel mill doesn't exactly leave a whole lot of time for self defense lessons, you know."

"Right," says Ellen, and then jerks her head towards her companion. "Voodoo, please? I need to talk to you."

[boston_bruiser]

Voodoo eyes Wernher. "Don't go anywhere," he says. Not like it'll have much effect if he's dead set on beating feet, but he doesn't look like the type - not right this second, anyway.

He turns and walks over to Ellen. "What's on your mind?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"I've run into people who've tried to talk me into doing ridiculous amounts of work for them before," Ellen says. "At less risk to my life, too. And I shot them down anyway. As much as I hate slavers, we have no idea what these fighters are like, and if he's not hiding something, then I'm a blue-nosed Deathclaw."

She glances over her shoulder; Wernher is still there.

"The only gladiators I know are the ones in ancient Rome, but my teacher used to say the gladiator fights were just about the biggest thing ever. Anybody who was anybody would go to see when there was a big tournament. If there was a way to get into the city, it'd be a lot easier to find Dave while all the important people were too busy watching the fights to pay attention to security, right?"

[boston_bruiser]

Voodoo thinks for a bit. "Depends on how disciplined they are," he says after a while. "Any halfway decent crew's going to take shifts watching the fights. But a distraction's a distraction."

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"And I think I'd have a better chance of surviving by sneaking around while people were distracted than by fighting in the competition anyway," Ellen says. "Even if they were taking shifts. If this guy can get out alive, so can we- we'll just have to get Dave out with us. It's kind of stupidly dangerous but what he's suggesting is suicidal."

[boston_bruiser]

Voodoo nods. "So we ditch him?"

[aaaaaaaagh_sky]

"The man the Good Samaritan rescued didn't try to talk the Samaritan into fighting his battles for him," Ellen says. "So, yes."