Chapter 165: Hope

Chapter 165: Hope

Helloooooo, children! It's me, Three Dog, BOW WOW! You're listening to Galaxy News Radio, your one stop shop for all your auditory satisfaction! Coming up later in the hour is some News To Make You Feel Better About Yourself, but now it's time for some new music! We've got the Rolling Stones lined up, who see a red door... and want you to "Paint It Black." Only on GNR!

"Is it bad that I'm more scared for what I have to do today?" I asked aloud. "I don't remember being this scared when we went to the Moon." Cass shrugged.

"Well, c'mon, that was violence," she said. "We're good at violence... but this?" Cass gestured to the enormous conference room we were sitting in, all clean and shiny with chairs and nametags; everything was ready for the sudden influx of incoming visitors. "This is gonna be talkin' an' politics an' diplomacy... an' shit. We're kinda out've our element, here."

"True, true..." I nodded my agreement, trying to mull over my emotions. "Maybe scared isn't the right word. Nervous? Apprehensive, perhaps?" Cass leaned back in her chair and tipped her hat back.

"Fucked if I know. But look on the bright side!" Cass reached across me to point at the gigantic table of food dominating one of the longer far walls. "That is quite the spread you've laid out. Even if the meeting is a flop, I'm sure yer gonna get points fer all that food."

"Y'think people are going to like it?" I asked. Cass nodded with a smile.

"Of course!" she said, slapping me on the shoulder. "It's free food. People love free food. But, I do have to ask... why a buffet?"

I thought about my answer for a second, looking back at the enormous buffet table which was staffed by about a dozen Lucky 38-branded protectrons, each one wearing a chef's hat.

"Well, if my hunch is right, this... meeting, congress, conference, whatever the fuck you wanna call it, it's gonna last a while. People are going to get hungry. You can't figure out shit on an empty stomach, and you definitely can't build a nation on one, either." Cass scrunched up her face, obviously still confused.

"Yeah, but... why a buffet?"

"Tell me honestly," I said, draping an arm around her shoulder. "Can you think of anything more Vegas than a buffet? Because I can't." Cass tapped her chin, apparently taking my challenge seriously. And then:

"...uhhh... A buffet served to hookers at a blackjack table?" she offered with a shrug. The two of us started giggling, and we almost missed the tiny voice at our feet.

"I think we're going to need some more coffee," Muggy said.

"No surprise there," I muttered leaning down and extending my hand; the mini securitron hopped up and rolled into my metal palm. "You love it when we drink coffee."

"I'm serious!" he practically shouted, flailing his arms for effect. "None of these people you've invited have ever had real coffee before, right?"

"Uh... no, I don't think so," I said. "You know, considering that Barry is the only one who can even make real coffee beans. At the moment, at least."

"Exactly! And do you remember what you were like when you had real coffee for the first time?"

Images of sweeping mountain vistas flooded my head, awash with color from a stunning sunset; the awe-inspiring majesty of The Infinite swirled through my minds eye, replete with vivid color from stars, supernovas, and interstellar dust clouds stretched across light years.

"I... seem to recall that moment, yes," I nodded, doing my best to keep a straight face.

"It's probably a good idea if we have too much, rather than not enough, is all I'm saying..." Muggy let out a nervous, quavering laugh. He started fiddling with his tiny little claw hands. Clearly, the thought of not enough coffee and consequently, fewer mugs to clean was making him anxious.

"Well, we already have five pots ready t'go..." Cass shrugged. I started nodding, and Muggy's expression sank for the briefest of moments.

"We're gonna need more," I said with a smile. Immediately, Muggy straightened up, and laughed, hopping off my hand.

"GREAT!" he yelled, laughing again as he rolled away and out of sight. "I'll go fetch more mugs!" I couldn't help but chuckle to myself. At least he was easy to cheer up.

"Oh, hey, by the way..." I turned to Cass, draping my arm across her shoulders again. "Thanks for helping me set this up today. I really appreciate it." Cass smiled, leaning against me.

"Ah, don't mention it," she gave me a soft peck on the cheek. "Glad t'help. So... what d'we do now?"

"Wait for everyone to arrive, I suppose." At that moment, my Pip Boy started beeping, and I reluctantly removed my arm from around Cass. "Aha! Speak of the devil. Hello, Yes Man. Have our guests started to arrive yet?"

"Nope!" Yes Man's voice blurted from the speaker when I opened the channel. Cass and I looked to each other curiously. "You have a package waiting for you!"

"A... what?" I asked. Cass raised an eyebrow.

"A package just arrived!" Yes Man replied. "A courier just dropped it off. It's waiting for you on the front steps!" And with that, the transmission clicked off. A sinking feeling took hold in the pit of my stomach. Cass and I looked at each other curiously for a few seconds.

In a flash, the two of us were on our feet and rushing for the front door.

There was a very large box, sitting several feet away from the Lucky 38's front doors. It was long and rectangular, almost like a coffin, but not quite big enough for that. It appeared to have been made from wood, and most of the dark green paint was either faded or flaked off entirely.

"What is it?" Cass asked from behind me. Neither of us moved from our spot to get closer just yet. I was worried that it might be a bomb... It was certainly big enough for that, if nothing else.

"I'm not sure..." I began, blinking several times. The different vision modes in my cybernetic eyes started cycling. "I'm not picking up any unusual heat signatures, and there doesn't appear to be any electromagnetic signatures... so it's... probably not a bomb... But there's definitely something in there."

"What about th' note?" Cass asked, pointing around me at the box. I switched my eyes back to normal, and looked where she was pointing: a small yellow envelope was stapled to the box. It had no markings. I held out a hand to stop Cass, and slowly approached the box. Without a word, I grabbed the envelope, ripped it open and began to read the simple words scrawled on the scrap of paper:

Six

Good luck

Create your symbol

But tell your allies of the real threat

You will need proof

Here it is

It wasn't signed, but I knew immediately who had sent it. I tossed the letter aside, and grabbed the edge of the box with my cybernetic hand; one by one, the nails popped out from the sudden force.

"So... what is it?" Cass asked, approaching me from behind slowly. I finished ripping the lid off, and tossed the wood aside. When I got a good look at the contents, I couldn't help but laugh to myself. Cass, meanwhile, recoiled in horror. "Wh-what the fuck is that?!"

"In a manner of speaking, yes," she giggled softly. "These were fashioned from his ribcage. When he died, he put in his will that he wanted his bones turned into jewelry for me to wear. That way, he said, he could always be close to my heart..." she started to fan herself with a free hand and her voice started quavering. "Oh, he always was such a sentimental old fool!"

Veronica didn't say anything. She just looked at Marjorie with a look of confused horror, her mouth and eyes wide; all she ended up doing was to laugh nervously for several seconds before slowly backing away.

"Thank you all for coming," I said, once everyone had settled down. It had been an hour since people had started showing up, and absolutely nothing had gotten done. So, it was high time to get down to business. "Now, as I'm sure all of you are aware, the NCR and Legion are on the brink of clashing at Hoover Dam. No matter what happens, the people of Vegas will be caught in the middle. That's why I've brought all of you here: so we can figure out what is to be done."

"Get on with it!" I heard a voice shout.

"Thank you, Cass," I said with a smile. "The point is, no matter who wins at Hoover Dam, everyone in the Mojave is going to take a bath unless we do something. From what I've seen in my travels since coming to the Mojave, none of us is strong enough to stand alone against either the Legion or the NCR. But I think that if we work together, and pool our resources to create a new nation for all of the people living in the Mojave, then "

A murmur settled over the room before I finished. Cachino, surprisingly enough, was the first one to speak up over the crowd:

"Let me guess," he said, leaning back in his chair. "You'd wanna make yourself leader of this new nation, am I right? After all, you've already taken over House's chair as the Overboss..." The room erupted in more mutterings, but I managed to silence them before they got too bad with a single word:

"No."

The room shut up, and I continued.

"I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea, so let me make myself abundantly clear: I'm not looking to rule anybody. That's not my goal, and I'm not interested. Truth be told, I don't know the first thing about actually running a nation. That's not who I am..." I looked out across the room, and vaguely pointed back and forth to everyone. "But I see the potential in all of you. That's why I brought everyone together for this meeting: so everyone who actually lives here can talk to one another and figure out what we all want for the future. I'm sure that if we work together, then we can build something for everyone we can all agree on or, at the very least, we can reach a decent compromise. The alternative is having a dictator roll up and say 'this is the way it's going to be, and I don't care what you think' which is what you'd get if the NCR or Legion took over. And I don't wanna be that guy."

"I thought everyone would want to be that guy," I heard Cliff say, to the sound of scattered chuckles. But I shrugged.

"Hey, you know, at the end of the day I'm just a courier bringing you guys a message," I said, which prompted a few more chuckles from around the room. "As far as I'm concerned, it's my job to deliver the message... but it's up to all of you to figure out what to do with it."

"So, if you're not interested in runnin' this thing... what are you gonna do, then?" I heard The King ask from his spot next to Julie at the far end of the room.

"I'm sure most of you have figured this out by now, but..." I laughed, shaking my head. "All I really know how to do is fight. That's all I'm really good at. So that's exactly what I'm going to do: fight."

"What do you mean, fight?" Jessica asked, with a worried expression on her face that she was doing a bad job of hiding.

"I mean simply this: when the NCR and Legion finally butt heads at Hoover Dam, I'm going to make sure that they both lose. The Boomers and their heavy artillery are going to play a big part in that," I gestured over to Pearl and Loyal with a nod, and the two of them gave me a pair of thumbs up. "But I've got a few other tricks up my sleeve. I'm going to fight, and I'm going to give everyone here not just in this room, but everyone in the Mojave the breathing room needed to build something... better. Together, we can turn Vegas into a beacon of light in this dark, depressing wasteland of ours a refuge from the violence in the world around us that can welcome everyone and anyone who wants to live free..." I glanced at the King, and gave him a subtle nod. "...so that we can all be kings in our own way."

"Let me see if I've got this straight..." Swank stood up at the far end of the room and spoke up; all eyes turned to him. "We all know that more and more Legion troops from the army they used to conquer Arizona are pouring into the Mojave every day. And the NCR is just as bad, bringing in more troops and tanks from Baja. They're closing in all around us, and you yourself just said that no matter what happens, Vegas is going to be caught in the crossfire. I mean... I hate to point this out, but you're just one man. You seriously believe you can beat back them both?"

"I do," I said with a nod and not a second's hesitation. Swank stared at me in disbelief, shaking his head.

"Man, you got guts... but that bet is a long shot. How can you believe something like that?"

"Because I have hope," I said, simply. "I have hope in my friends. I have hope in my allies. I have hope in myself. I have hope, because I have to believe that freedom will not give way to tyranny and oppression so easily. I have hope because I sincerely believe that we can all work together, to build something better than ourselves, and that together we can become greater than the sum of our parts. I have hope," I smiled, looking out at all the faces surrounding me. "...because all of you give me hope."

For what felt like ten years, the room was silent. I clenched my jaw, closed my eyes and prepared for the worst. And then:

"I'll stand with you," I heard Julie say. And that was all anyone needed. One by one, everyone voiced their agreement to this idea: The King, Swank, Cachino, Marjorie, Loyal, Pearl, Raquel, Shelby, Trudy, Cliff, Jessica, and Marcus all began to voice their agreement.

For the first time in a long time, I truly believed that we might actually be able to pull off this crazy, hare-brained plan of mine.

"Fantastic!" I said, clapping my hands together. "Now that the hard part is out of the way, there's one other thing I want to tell you guys before we get to the specifics of hashing out the details of nation building and... all that shit. It's a bit of a warning, because there is a very specific something that is bound to happen sooner or later. I want everyone to be as prepared as they possibly can be, as soon as they possibly can be."

Everyone looked confused as I turned away from the table, grabbed the big box behind me, and turned back to plant it in full view of everyone.

"Let me tell you a little something about tunnelers..."

The meeting lasted a little over six hours.

The discussions were long, heated, and thorough. And even after six hours, it was clear that we'd only barely scratched the surface of what we would need to do to make this plan work... but it was a good start, if nothing else.

By the end of it, the buffet spread I'd laid out was very nearly empty, so it was clear that had been a good idea. Same with the coffee, if the dozens upon dozens of used coffee cups were any indication. At least Muggy would be happy.

Once it was clear that we could get no more work done today, I'd offered up the revolving cocktail lounge so that we could all unwind and have some fun. And I have never seen so many people from so many distant, scattered walks of life come together like we did for that party, and have so much fun.

I was sitting in one of the booths on the rotating portion, with a beer in hand and my feet propped on a nearby table, just watching everyone talking and laughing and drinking and joking together.

And then suddenly, I heard a voice behind me: it was Arcade, and it sounded like he was quoting something.

"Keep ancient lands, your storied pomp!' cries she with silent lips. 'Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

"What's that?" I asked, as Arcade sat down next to me. I reached down into the cooler by my feet, and offered him a beer, which he took with a nod.

"It's from a poem," he said. "It's called 'The New Colossus,' and it's engraved on the side of the Statue of Liberty..." Arcade paused, thinking about that for a second. "...or, at least, it was before the world ended. No idea if it's still there, but that's beside the point."

"And the point?" I asked. Arcade cracked open the beer and took a drink.

"Those words, engraved on the side of the Statue of Liberty... that is what America stood for, once upon a time," he said softly. "Before the Enclave ruined everything, that is. It was the idea that we weren't perfect... but we didn't have to be. Hatred, bigotry, tyranny, oppression... these were the things people were trying to escape from when they came to America. It was the idea that it didn't matter what part of the world you came from, or who you were; Lady Liberty would welcome you with open arms, whoever you were, and we would call you family."

"It's a nice idea," I said with a chuckle, taking a swig of my beer. "It's just too bad that idea died when the bombs dropped." I felt Arcade's hand grip me by the shoulder.

"That's the thing, Sheason: I don't think it is dead. Not anymore. What I saw today... what you've started here today... was the true spirit of America come back from the dead. For the first time in my life, I feel like I can actually believe in the American Dream... without being asleep. And for the first time... I feel like I can be legitimately hopeful for the future."

I laughed, raising my beer bottle to his; we toasted the glass bottles together with a clink.

"Here's to hope," I said with a smile. "An idea that not even the end of the world can kill!" Arcade chuckled, following suit.

"I'll drink to that!"