Chapter 41: Conversations

Chapter 41: Conversations

Welcome back to the Mr. New Vegas show, only on Radio New Vegas. For those just joining us, our top story today has been the dramatic destruction of the Silver Rush. However, a number of RNV correspondents are reporting that the Crimson Caravan Company's New Vegas branch was attacked by unknown assailants last night as well. It's currently unknown if the destruction of the Silver Rush and the attack on the Crimson Caravan are related. The Crimson Caravan refuses to release any details on the attack, but several eyewitnesses who wish to remain anonymous reported at least two dozen injured, and at least one fatality.

The trip back down the mountain was more or less uneventful. I didn't see any super mutants - not even Neil - coming down, which gave Veronica, Raul and I plenty of time to get the introductions out of the way.

"So, Te... uh... Tay... how do you pronounce your last name again?" I asked. The ghoul let out a grim chuckle and shook his head.

"Tejada. My name is Raul Alfonso Tejada," he said, a lot slower than the first time. "I'm sure you'll get it eventually, boss. Just stick with Raul for now."

"If that's your name, how come your jumpsuit says Miguel?" Veronica asked. I peered around, trying to get a good look at the nametag on Raul's jumpsuit. It did, indeed, say Miguel on the front. Raul shrugged.

"Probably because it used to be Miguel's."

"Fair enough," I said, softly chuckling to myself. "So, where are you headed Raul? My car should be able to give you a lift to wherever you want to go."

"I'm headed wherever you're going, boss." He said matter-of-factly.

"Is that so?" I shot Veronica a look that I hoped said 'I told you so.' "Well, I'm always grateful for more help, I admit. But why're you interested in tagging along?

"You saved my life, boss. Who knows how long I'd be locked in that damn cell if you hadn't shown up? I figure, I should stick around at least 'til I return the favor."

"That's a noble sentiment. Don't really see much of that anymore." Veronica said approvingly.

"What can I say," Raul shrugged. "I'm not really from around here."

By this time, we'd finally reached my car, just beyond Neil's shack. Raul let out a slow whistle, eyeing the car up and down.

"Nice wheels. This your car, boss?" I nodded, moving towards the trunk so I could start stowing my weapons. He started walking around my car, admiring it. "Damn... an old '57 Chryslus Corvega four-door. This is one of the third generation models, isn't it?"

"Uh..." I put the anti-materiel rifle in the trunk, alongside the rest of the weapons, and closed the lid, trying to think of something to say. I scratched the back of my head and tried not to look sheepish. "I'll be honest, I don't know. The guy I bought it from in New Reno just called it a Corvega. I didn't know there were different models." This was a bit embarrassing - I'd finally run into someone who knew more about my car than I did.

"Oh sure, boss. I know lots of things about cars from before the bombs. If you ever have questions, you could always use me as a walking encyclopedia." The three of us got in my car, and I started her up. "I'm actually kind of surprised, boss. This car here isn't in bad shape. Apart from the bullet holes, I mean."

"There's a bit of wear and tear around the edges, I admit," I turned the car around, and saw ED-E float past the window. The engine rumbled and we were on our way. "But I like to think I've kept it running as well as possible."

"I can tell. But if you ever think it needs any serious work done, boss, let me know. I know a thing or two about engines." I gave him a nod, and he settled into the backseat. "So, just out of curiosity boss, where are we going?"

"The Lucky 38," Veronica said, turning around in her seat to talk to the ghoul.

"I'm... uh... kind of working for Mr. House. Sort of." That elicited a strange look from Veronica. I just shrugged. "Hey, Raul, you know about House, right?"

"Just how old do you think I am, boss?" Raul said, almost indignantly. I spluttered, but he continued with a cracked smile on his face before I got a chance to apologize. "Because I can pretty much guarantee, I'm older than that."

"I see what you've done there," Veronica smiled back at Raul with a nod. "Clever."

"Thanks. Let me tell you a story from before the bombs dropped: Everybody knew Robert House. People said he was a genius. A superstar. Founded RobCo at 22, dated Hollywood starlets, the works. They say he saved Las Vegas."

"That's what he said when I talked to him, at least," I offered up helpfully.

"I was in Mexico City when the bombs dropped, and I know it's impossible, but I swear that I could see House's defensive lasers shooting down the incoming missiles, even from there. Everybody assumed House died in the war. And now, you're here telling me you're working for a Mr. House?"

"Well, if he's a fake, he's a very convincing one." I said.

"I still haven't seen him, if it makes you feel any better," Veronica said. "Personally, I think the whole thing is a load of bullshit and chips."

"I've always had a few theories about who's actually running Vegas, myself. I mean, maybe the new guy is just a clever raider chief with a knowledge of history? Maybe House left instructions for his robots to carry out in his name? Or maybe it is the real Robert House, and he uploaded his brain pattern into a computer, ruling to this day, a godless, soulless machine-god!" A stiff silence permeated the inside of my car for a few minutes, until Raul finally spoke up again. "Or maybe the whole thing's a crazy coincidence? Who knows."

"Is there anything else you know about the House you know for certain wasn't a phony?" Veronica asked with a smirk. "I mean, it'd be 200 year old gossip, but it's still gossip, right?"

"Well... I remember there were some weird stories about him, especially near the end. There was a tell-all in El Periodico de las Aburridas by a starlet House dated. She said they never, uh..." Raul shifted in his seat, and suddenly looked a little uncomfortable. "Don't make me spell it out, boss."

"They never did the horizontal mambo? Never laid some pipe? Never went twenty-toes?" I offered up helpfully. I looked at him in the rear view mirror, and he seemed to relax and nodded.

"You don't have to be bashful, Raul," Veronica leaned back in her seat. "We're all adults here."

"Well, you're not." I turned to the scribe, smiling at her smugly. She just rolled her eyes.

"Anyway," Raul spoke up again. "She said all he wanted to do was scan her brain. And... er... well, make her dress up in different outfits." For some reason, I immediately thought of Marilyn and Jane - the two 'female' Securitron's in House's office - and wondered... maybe they weren't just programs? The thought sent a chill up my spine, though I'm not entirely sure why. Before I could wonder for too much longer, Raul continued. "It was quite the scandal, at least in the Latin-American tabloid journalism market."

The car was quiet for a few minutes, leaving me some time to digest everything I knew about the House I'd been working for - which, admittedly, wasn't much - and what Raul had told me. And then, Raul spoke up again.

"You know what, boss? There was one place I wanted to go first."

It was a small shack almost due east of Freeside, close to the hills separating the run-down residential neighborhoods outside the Vegas wall, and Lake Mead. We'd long since stopped seeing other houses around; there were plenty of burned out and collapsed frames, but this small shack was the only one still standing. A small fence ran around the perimeter, and two run-down cars sat on the lawn; granted, they merely looked run down. I did notice that they both still had tires on them, so who knows? Maybe they were like mine.

"So, what are we doing here?" I asked Raul when I stopped the car. Raul walked toward the shack, smiling back at us.

"Bienvenidos a la casa de Tejada." He said to us with open arms. He stood there for a minute, looking back and forth between the two of us. "What?"

"Raul," I tried to figure out how to put this delicately. "I don't actually know how to speak Spanish. You do know that, right?" He set down his arms and chuckled.

"S que usted no habla Espaol. Me gusta jodiendo."

"What?" I turned to Veronica. "Do you know what he said?" Instead of a real response, I just saw her put her face in her hands, and fail to hold back laughter. ED-E, on the other hand, just hovered in place and let out two confused beeps.

"Don't worry about it, boss. It's not important. What is important, is this place right here. It's not much, but it's my home. Just thought I'd pick up a few things before we head to Vegas." He went to the large garage door behind one of the cars, and pulled it up with a series of metal clanks, displacing about 8 cubic feet of dust and rust in the process. The inside of the garage was pitch black.

My aim was thrown off by that last comment so much that the dart embedded itself in the wall about a foot and a half away from the board. I couldn't help but sigh. I guess fate can't even give me five minutes, can it?

"Arcade," I walked over to the wall to collect the errant projectile as I spoke. "Look, I appreciate that you're not trying to start any more shit with Veronica. But you've got to tell me what your real problem is with the Brotherhood of Steel." He looked up from his pool cue, pushed his glasses up his nose, and narrowed his eyes at me

"I don't know what you mean. I've already told you: they're murderers and bullies, and I refuse to work with one of their esoteric order." His words were toneless and well rehearsed... which only further proved the point to me. I shook my head.

"No. There's some other reason. Something you're not telling me. I want to know what it is, so that something like what happened the other day won't happen again. So we can all work together as a team." Arcade was quiet for a long time, holding the cue; eventually, he looked away from me, and began studying the remaining balls on the pool table.

"Do you know why I joined the Followers of the Apocalypse?" He asked, leaning over the table and lining up a shot. Before I got a chance to reply, he continued. "Because they are a force for good in this empty shell of a hellhole we call a world. Of all the people and organizations I've met out there in the wasteland, only the Followers don't seem to have any ulterior motives. They want to heal the sick. Shelter the homeless. Feed the hungry. Educate the ignorant. And all they ask in return is enough to survive - and sometimes, they don't even ask for that."

"The Brotherhood, on the other hand," he paused, striking the cue ball. "Do not help people. They are little more than glorified scavengers. Everything they have is stolen, usually after the original owner has been disintegrated. And if they admitted to that, then I'd have no issue with them. At least... I wouldn't harbor as much animosity. But the fact is, they don't think they're doing anything wrong. Just ask Veronica. They claim everything they do is to protect humanity, even when their actions speak of murder and theft on the grandest of scales."

"You know, I don't have anything except hear-say for both sides of this argument," I said, aiming the dart in my hand straight at the bulls eye. "Aside from Veronica, I've never met anyone from the Brotherhood of Steel."

"Well, I have," Arcade knocked the final pool ball into one of the corner pockets. "And I admit, Veronica is a nice girl, so I will try to keep my opinions to myself in the future... but they're not all like that. Fact of the matter is, the Brotherhood is an organization that is rampant with hypocrisy. That is why I don't like them. They're massive hypocrites." Arcade looked away from me, and set the pool cue down with a sigh. "And I've had my fill of organizations who claim to help people, but murder them instead."

There was something about that last statement... it threw me off. I just stared at Arcade as he grabbed his labcoat and started walking out of the room. Before he left, I spoke up.

"There's another story behind that, isn't there?" Arcade looked over his shoulder at me, and clutched at the doorframe.

"Yes. Yes there is... And maybe... I'll tell you someday." He let go of the door and turned away from me. "But not yet."

I made my way to the balcony that surrounded the suite, cracking open another bottle of beer on the way. Perhaps here, I might be able to find that time alone to think that I desired so desperately?

"Fuckin' hell..." I heard a faint voice from somewhere to my left.

Guess not.

I followed the voice, walking the length of the curved balcony, until I came across Cass. She was leaning on the railing, looking out at Vegas, with a half-empty whiskey bottle still in hand. Her hat and jacket were nowhere to be seen, and her red hair wasn't tied back like it normally was, but instead was falling loosely around her head. She must have heard my footsteps, because she turned to look up when I got close.

"Oh! Uh... hey." She waved weakly at me, and turned back to the balcony. I came to a stop a few feet away from her, and leaned over the balcony as well.

"Hey," I offered in response, trying to get a look at her. Most of her face was hidden behind the mass of red hair. She didn't say anything for a few minutes. She just kept staring out at the skyline of Vegas.

"Look, Sheas'n... 'bout last night... er, I mean, this mornin', or..." Cass ran her free hand along the side of her head, brushing her hair out of the way. "Ah, fuck, I don' even know. Listen, m'sorry fer sneakin' off like I did. I jus'... I didn't want things t'get... awkward."

"It was plenty awkward, waking up wondering if last night even happened." If nothing else, at least now I had some kind of confirmation about the whole series of events. One less thing to worry about, I guess.

"I meant awkward fer me," Cass looked away, back to the whiskey bottle in her hand. "Didn't want t'deal with... mornin' after stuff. Questions n'th' like. Made that mistake b'fore with Veronica, n'look how that turned out?"

"Hrm." I felt like Boone, since all I could think to say was a monosyllabic, non-committal grunt. The two of us leaned against the railing, and the air between us became silent again. Cass shook her head and sighed.

"D'yever feel like... maybe comin' to th' Mojave was a mistake?" she asked. I nodded.

"All the time." Cass just nodded back at me.

"If I never came here... maybe m'caravan wouldnt've..." Cass trailed off a bit, and took a swig of whiskey. "Plus, there's V... An' don' get m'wrong, she's awesome'n th' sex is great but... I jus'... m'not lookin' forward to talkin' t'her 'bout..." she gulped audibly. "... stuff."

"Yeah..." I reached in my pocket, and pulled out the Platinum Chip, twirling it around my fingers a few times. "If I never took the job for this damn chip... who knows, maybe I wouldn't have gotten shot in the face. Wouldn't have to deal with armies, or megalomaniacs with robots, and I wouldn't get shot at constantly." I thought about that for a minute, then added: "Or, at least as much."

"Guess we both might've been better off if we never came here." Cass' shoulders sagged, and her head drooped. I inched toward her and, against my better judgment, wrapped my arm around her left shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Maybe..." I said softly. She leaned against me and set her head against my chest with a soft thunk. I felt some movement around my back... was that... was she wrapping an arm around me?

"Y'know... we don't have t'stay. Neither one'v us. We could just pack up, an' haul ass back to California. Leave all this craziness in th' dust." I looked down, trying to get a look at Cass' face. She was still looking out at Vegas... or maybe it wasn't Vegas she was staring at. Maybe she was just looking west...

"We?" I asked. Cass shrugged against me.

"Sure. Why not? I've gotta start rebuildin' m'caravan somewhere. An' yer already a courier, so I know you've got experience. B'sides..." Cass looked up at me, through the mess of red hair falling down around her face. "Yer easy to talk to, ya don' ask anythin' 've me that you wouldn't do yerself, it'd be easier to get around in yer car than walkin' every-fuckin'-where..." A small smirk crept into the corner of Cass' mouth. "Plus, th' sex is pretty good, too. Definitely wouldn't mind keepin y'around."

I blinked a few times, processing what she was saying... and, for some reason, only spoke up about one of her points.

"What, only 'pretty good'?" Cass shook her head and laughed at me.

"Yeah, well, you're only working with so much." Without warning, Cass reached down and grabbed at my crotch, flashing me a predatory smile. "You more than make up for it with enthusiasm, though." Her right arm started creeping up my back, and I could feel her drawing me closer...

Alright Sheason, focus. No, I said focus, not... Get a hold of yourself! No, wait, that's not right... Get a grip - aaugh! I mean - just - oh, for fuck sake!

It took every single ounce of self control in my being, but... eventually, I grabbed her by both her wrists to dislodge her from me, and then held her at arms length by her shoulders.

"Cass, what the fuck has gotten into you lately? And what about Veronica? Have you thought about what leaving would do to her?" I tried to talk some sense into her... and, based on her expression, it seemed like some of it was getting through. At least, a little bit.

"Yeah, well... s'not like it'd be th' first time I left with nothin' but an' empty whiskey bottle on th' nightstand. Prob'ly won't be th' last." Cass shook her head and sighed, shaking off my hands. I let her go, and thankfully she stayed put. "I guess I just... ev'rythin' that's been goin' on - Benny, House, th' NCR, Caesar's Legion, th' Dam, Crimson Caravan an' th' Van Graff's... All've this is big an' crazy. Bigger'n crazier than I've ever had t' deal with. I'm not built fer this shit, y'know? I like it when things ain't complicated. You seem t'get that. V jus'... she jus' doesn't." She picked her head up, brushed the hair out of her face, and stared at me with those grey eyes of hers. "I... I dunno. Maybe I jus' turn t'sex when I get stressed. Maybe I jus' want somethin' in m'life t'make sense again. I dunno."

Cass turned away from me, and leaned against the railing again. She sighed heavily.

"Maybe I jus' wanna stop fuckin' things up fer m'self so bad. Or, if that don't work, leave, so I won' have t'deal with th' consequences."

"Cass, you haven't fucked things up so badly that your only recourse is to run away. It's like I keep telling you - what you need to do is talk to Veronica. Like you're talking with me. It's not hard. And it'll help in the long run." I leaned against the railing myself - but this time, I decided to keep a respectful distance away. Just in case. Cass shook her head, and continued to look down.

"Fuck me, man..." Cass let out a single, grim laugh and started to smirk. "When th' fuck did my life get so weird?"

"That's my line," I said, half-jokingly. She shrugged.

"Hey, if th' shoe fits..."