New Vegas: Sheason's Story

Chapter 32: Stories of Days Gone By

I found myself in the middle of a casino. I couldn't really tell which casino... the lights and the general decor reminded me of The Tops - before it was covered in blood and bullet holes - but the color scheme reminded me of the Lucky 38. And when I looked down, it felt like the patterns on the carpet were moving, just like the carpets in Bazooko's Circus. The air was filled with the sounds of a Frank Sinatra song... or was it Dean Domino? Maybe it was Kay Kyser... For some reason I couldn't understand, I couldn't concentrate on any details.

The place felt so familiar, and yet somehow so very distant from familiarity. Individual pieces about the decor, the people standing around gambling, the music coming through the loudspeakers... I recognized where they belonged, but they all belonged to different places. Before I could make any sense of my surroundings, I noticed a man in a grey suit, sunglasses, and greasy hair walking towards me. It looked like he was one of the Chairmen... But weren't they all dead?

"Sheason Fisher?" the man asked. Without thinking, I nodded. "Your presence is requested at the main roulette table."

"Who's requesting my presence?" I asked. The man didn't answer. He just turned and walked back into the crowd. I guess if I wanted to find out what was going on, I'd have to locate this roulette table.

It didn't take long to find. I just started walking through the casino, and looked around for the biggest commotion. I don't know why, but that seemed like the way to go. It felt like I had to push my way past hundreds of people just to get close. When I finally got within sight of the roulette table, I saw something else: a familiar black and white checkered jacket.

"Ah, there you are," Benny turned to face me when I arrived, a smile on his face and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He slapped me on the back like we were old pals, and motioned me towards the table. I didn't find it quite as unnerving as I felt like I should. "You're just in time, daddy-o. They've been at it like this for a long time."

"Who has?" I asked. Benny just smirked and motioned with his head for me to look up. If I said I was quite surprised, it wouldn't really do my emotions justice.

Standing at one end of the table, wearing a black suit, a blue striped tie, and an NCR flag pin on his lapel was Aaron Kimball, President of the NCR. His appearance - square jaw, thin pointed nose, the high-and-tight haircut of an ex-military man whose mind was still military - was exactly as I expected. Behind him had to be half a dozen NCR veteran rangers, wearing that Black Armor Boone had mentioned the other day. Kimball was standing in front of a pile of red casino chips, each one emblazoned with the image of a bear skull; the whole mountain was bet on black.

Of course, if I was surprised by Kimball playing roulette, I was doubly surprised by the man with his mountain of chips bet on red: Caesar. He looked exactly the same as he had when I'd met him at the Fort, with a red sash draped over both his shoulders, a metal chest plate, and a golden laurel of leaves crowning his head. Behind him were just as many Legion Praetorians as there were NCR Rangers behind Kimball. Caesar had a mountain of chips just as large as Kimball's, except his were black, with the image of a golden bull emblazoned on the face.

They weren't the only two standing at the table, though. Leaning on the table like he owned it was a man I recognized - The King. Of course, he was the only one I recognized. There was a man next to him with silvery hair, wearing an odd blue robe with bits of metal and wires acting as a sort of weird trim. An old woman wearing a Vault suit and a Pip Boy was standing next to him, her white hair was pulled back into a bun; she was wearing some kind of old world military jacket over her vault suit, with a whole myriad of patches and medals and ribbons pinned in seemingly random places. Hanging around her neck was a necklace of spent shell casings. She was also resting an old 40mm pump action grenade launcher on her shoulder. Standing next to them - but closer to Caesar than the rest - was a huge man with an equally huge black beard, wearing what looked like some kind of armored leather vest draped in animal furs; resting on his head was an old motorcycle helmet with horns on each side and a spike on top.

"They've been playing for the future of Vegas," Benny said as we came up behind the croupier taking the bets and spinning the roulette wheel. I noticed with a wry sense of amusement that the spinner in the center of the roulette wheel was styled to look like the Lucky 38 - complete with windows and tiny little lights blinking along the sides. "But the funny thing? Even if one of them manages to win, they'll all still lose. Because the House always wins."

I couldn't work out why he emphasized the word House... until the croupier turned enough for me to get a look at him. He was wearing an exquisitely tailored tux that looked even cleaner than Kimball's suit. It was like he'd stepped out of the old world and missed the bombs completely. His hair was dark, and parted slightly off center, and he had a fastidiously trimmed pencil thin moustache. And then, when he spoke later... there wasn't any question as to who he was. This was Robert House.

"So, what do you say Courier?" Benny offered me one of his cigarettes. "What do you say you and me show these crumbs how players get it done?" I took one of the cigarettes, and searched my pockets for a lighter... but I couldn't find one.

"What's the point?" I asked. "It's roulette - that's a fools game. Like you said, the House'll always win. The only winning move is not to play." Benny just chuckled under his breath.

"Normally, that's true," He reached into his jacket, and pulled out his lighter. "But sometimes you have to rig the game from the start. You get the scam I'm spinnin'?" He flicked open the Zippo, and to the casual observer I'm sure it merely looked like he was just lighting my smoke... but inside the lighter, I saw something. It was a number: 13. I looked over to Benny with a questioning glance. He just kept smiling, and nodded almost imperceptibly.

"This will be the final spin of the night, ladies and gentlemen," I heard House say in a voice that seemed insufferably smug. "If you wish to place your bets, I suggest you do so now."

Part of me just wanted to turn around, and walk away - it's not like I had any real investment in what happened in the Mojave. This whole game, with nations fighting each other, and people's fates hanging in the balance, this wasn't me. This wasn't what I wanted to do. All I really wanted to do was...

I don't know. It suddenly hit me that I didn't actually know what I wanted to do.

"You better make your decision all quick like, Courier," Benny said from behind me. "You're running out of time, and fast."

I turned to ask him what he meant, but I couldn't see him - what I saw instead was the casino, slowly being devoured by a black abyss. The walls were cracking and breaking apart, spinning like the roulette wheel, and falling into nothing. The slot machines and craps tables were tipping into the darkness, and the people who touched the black nothing dissolved into sand and disappeared.

"Will there be any more bets, ladies and gentlemen?" House said from behind me.

I made a decision. I stepped up to the table, and pulled the Platinum Chip out of my pocket. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Benny grab House and toss him aside like a ragdoll. I put the Chip down on 13, and Benny spun the wheel. Time felt like it slowed down as the ball spun round the wheel. The ball started to lose momentum... and slid gracefully into pocket 13.

The people around the table - Kimball, Caesar, The King, and all the rest - dissolved into sand and disappeared. The table dissolved as well, until the only two things left standing in the black abyss were Benny and me. He didn't seem bothered about standing in the middle of nothing. He just kept smoking.

"You can only delay for so long, Courier. The Bear and Bull are going to butt heads at the dam, and nothing is going to stop that scrap. That fight is drawing closer every day. Eventually, you're going to have to make that choice for real. And if you want my advice?" He tossed the cigarette away, and it disappeared. He reached into his coat, and pulled out the Platinum Chip, tossing it towards me. I caught it without thinking. "My advice is you make that choice... for you. Not for Kimball. Not for Caesar. And definitely not for House. If you don't make the choice yourself, then someone else'll make that choice for you. And you might not like what comes next. Dig?"

My eyes snapped open, and it took a minute to get my bearings. I was lying on a bed in a darkened room - one of the cabins in Jacobstown that Marcus had provided as a thank you for getting rid of the mercenaries. I tried looking around to see where I'd put my Pip Boy, so I could get a look at the time... and then realized it was still on my wrist. Had I fallen asleep still wearing it? Maybe I was getting more used to it than I thought.

It was just shy of 2 am, on Sunday, October the 30th, 2281, according to the clock on the Pip Boy. Part of me wanted to just get back to sleep. I didn't wake up in a cold sweat, and I wasn't jerked awake like I was punched in the gut... in fact, waking up this time around was a much more pleasant and agreeable affair than normal. But despite that, I knew I wasn't going to get back to sleep any time soon.

So, I did the only thing I could think of. I grabbed my jeans, my shirt, my jacket, my boots, my guns... and went for a walk.

Jacobstown at night is probably one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen. Granted, that isn't exactly saying much when so much else is still irradiated ruins or concrete urban centers built with scraps and whatever else is to hand. But still - nice place to be, all things considered.

Everything was bathed in the blue light of a still mostly-full moon. There was a smattering of clouds in the sky mostly hanging around the peak of the mountain, still looking more like fog than anything else and the stars shone brightly down through the gaps in the cloud cover. The wind rustled through the trees... but that wasn't all that was in the air. Heavy footfalls. Movement in the distance. Apparently, Jacobstown was just as busy in the middle of the night as it was in the day.

That was about when I came across Marcus. He was sitting with his back to me on a metal bench in the center of town. A pall of smoke was hanging around his head, illuminated from above by a single working streetlamp.

"Man. A super mutant with a cigar? Now I've seen everything," I said, leaning on the back of the bench. Marcus turned around to look at me with a raised... well, to be honest, he doesn't exactly have eyebrows, so the effect of looking at me with a raised eyebrow was kind of lost. He took the cigar out of his mouth, and let out a thin curl of smoke from his nostrils. "Don't you ever sleep?"

"Do you?" he asked with a smirk. I shrugged and sat down next to him.

"Not enough. At least not lately." I slumped back, letting the back of my head rest on the bench so I was looking straight up. I tried focusing on the stars, but just like in my dream, I couldn't concentrate on any of the details.

"You know, I think I was right about what I said earlier," Marcus took a long puff from his cigar as he spoke. "You do kind of remind me of The Chosen One. He didn't sleep much either. For a human, I mean."

"Yeah... you mentioned him before. What was he like?" I asked. Marcus just sort of looked at me oddly, puffing away at his cigar. I just shrugged. "I could use a distraction. Besides, you got me curious, I'd like to know who you keep comparing me too. I want to know if I should be insulted or not." Thankfully, Marcus got the joke, and he just chuckled.

"You shouldn't be insulted. The Chosen One was a pretty cool guy. A bit... out there, sometimes. But overall, a nice guy."

"Out there?" I asked. "What do you mean?" Marcus smiled to himself.

"Let me put it to you like this - I remember this one time we had to get in this secure Enclave installation, guarded by men in powered armor and laser rifles and all that good stuff, right? And he decides the best thing to do is strip down completely naked and run around the place, yelling at the top of his lungs to cause enough of a distraction to let John and me get in without any trouble."

I think my brain stopped for a minute, trying to process what I'd just heard.

"Wait, what? That... that's insane!" Marcus just continued smiling.

"Yeah, he was definitely a bit bonkers. But I am completely serious. And do you know the craziest thing? That mad son of a bitch came out the other side without a single scratch on him. Every single one of those powered armored bastards that tried to shoot at him had their guns blow up in their faces. Never seen anything like it before or since."

"So, how do I remind you of that? I've never done... anything even remotely that ridiculous. Ever." I thought about it, and most of the ridiculous things I'd done in the past involved me running for dear life away from something ridiculous, not causing the insanity myself.

"It's not you being ridiculous, it's a couple of little things, honestly. Mostly what reminds me are the stories about you that I keep hearing on the radio. Whenever he did anything, it seemed like, everyone in the wasteland had heard about it before we'd even got to where we were going," Marcus said. "Plus, he drove around everywhere like you seem to."

"Really? Was his car a Corvega like mine?"

"Nah, he called it a Highwayman," Marcus took the cigar out of his mouth and blew out a series of smoke rings. "And keep in mind, this was before the NCR established itself and started rebuilding the roads, and way before cars started getting more common up north."

"I'm surprised you fit in his car," I said. And then quickly added "No offense."

"None taken. I know what I look like. I'm an ugly mutant, and big son of a bitch, too. I filled up the whole backseat. John always took shotgun, though. Which was kind of fitting, since that was his weapon of choice." I couldn't help but chuckle.

"I guess it must run in the family," I said. "Cass always calls shotgun whenever she can get it."

"Yeah... There's a lot about that girl that takes after her old man. The love of shotguns, the love of whiskey... It's too bad she never found out what happened to him."

"What, do you know what happened to her dad?" I asked. Marcus just shook his head.

"No, that's the trouble. A little after we nuked the oil rig, everyone who followed The Chosen One just sort of... drifted apart. Dogmeat, Cassidy, Vic, Lenny, Miria, Skynet... even Goris the albino deathclaw. Never found out what happened to any of them after we grabbed the GECK and brought it back to Arroyo."

"... An albino deathclaw." Part of me was wondering if I'd somehow passed out again and was just imagining all of this.

"Yup," Marcus just continued on, unphased by my question. "I thought she might know what happened to her old man, but apparently she's just as in the dark about it as I am. Shame."

"Did that Chosen One dude seriously travel with that many people? And how the hell did a deathclaw fit in a car? What, was it a convertible?"

"Not at first." Marcus said with a smirk. I just laughed. "Actually, that's another thing about you that reminds me of him. He liked to collect people, too."

"I don't collect people," I said, straightening up a bit in the bench. Marcus just shook his head slightly.

"Yeah. You're just travelling with an eyebot, a drunken caravan boss, a Brotherhood of Steel scribe, an NCR 1st Recon sniper, and scientist from the Followers of the Apocalypse." Marcus looked smug, puffing away at his cigar. "Sure you don't collect people."

"Hang on, how did you know Veronica's a member of the Brotherhood?" I asked. Marcus just shrugged, and tightened one of the vices on his orange shoulderplate.

"Kid, I've probably forgotten more about the Brotherhood than any of you have ever known, and it was all thanks to an old friend. The name of this place, Jacobstown? I named it after Jacob, a Steel Knight. He and I used to talk for... days. About everything. Found out everything I know about the Brotherhood from him."

"I thought the Brotherhood hated mutants." Marcus chuckled softly to himself as I said that, like he was laughing at a joke only he was in on.

"Yeah, well... that's a long story. Want it short, or the whole thing?"

"I got plenty of time. Let's hear it."

"Alright. This was after the Master and the FEV vats were destroyed. Didn't have anywhere to go. One day, I was wandering the desert... some damn place, out in the middle of nowhere, I don't know. What I do remember is the sun - dead set above me in the center of the sky. Next thing I know, I see this fool in powered armor coming towards me."

"Really?" I asked. Marcus nodded.

"That was Jacob. a Knight of the Brotherhood. Apparently, he'd sworn some oath to destroy muties. Well, we tussled for a while... Heh... Probably a day or two. I lost track, honestly. It started off simple enough. He shot at me, I shot back. That went on for a while, the both of us running and shooting, that kind of thing. Eventually, we both ran out of bullets, so we tried to beat the crap out of each other with whatever was close - and after everything else got broken, we just started beating on each other with our fists. Days of this went on, and neither of us could get the upper hand. After a while, we just started laughing. What was the point?"

"So... what? You two just decided to stop trying to kill each other and become friends?"

"Something like that, yeah. After we stopped fighting, the two of us just... started walking. Walking, and talking, and arguing. What else were we gonna do, right? Next thing the two of us know, other people started following us. Guess they figured if they weren't safe with a mutie and a Steel Knight, safe just wasn't going to happen."

"So what happened next?"

"The two of us and whoever else was following found an old uranium mine. We built a town around it, and named it Broken Hills. Everybody was welcome - human, ghoul, mutant, didn't matter, long as they acted right. Kind of like here, really." Marcus took a long draw from his cigar; when I'd arrived, the cigar looked like it had only just been lit, and now it looked like there was only half of it un-smoked.

"So what happened to Jacob?" Marcus just shrugged.

"Dunno. We founded Broken Hills in the summer of 2185. When spring came the next year... he said goodbye and moved on. Never saw him again." Marcus sighed. "I still miss that hard-head."

The two of us just sat on that bench under the street light in silence for quite a while before either of us said anything else. When it finally came, it was Marcus that broke the silence.

"It's been a long time since I told that story. A very long time. Not many people are curious enough to ask."

"Let me guess..." I said, rubbing my chin in mock contemplation. "The last person to ask you was The Chosen One." Marcus chortled.

"D'you know? He was." The two of us started chuckling softly... but then Marcus stopped, and looked off into the darkness. "Hey, Sheason?" He said eventually. "Do you think you can do me a favor?"

"It all depends on the favor, but probably. What's up?" I asked. Marcus took the stub of cigar out of his mouth, and gestured with it to a spot off in the distance.

"Do you think you could talk to Lily? She was a bit shaken up after your trip into the nightstalker cave, and wouldn't say why."

I looked to where he was pointing, and switched my eyes into nightvision. Everything was bathed in green, and I could see that he was pointing towards the bighorner pens. Lily was there, standing next to one of the bighorner calves. The super mutant in the sun hat was gently patting its hide. She was also holding something in one of her hands, but I couldn't quite make out what it was at this distance.

"Alright, I'll talk to her, but... why me? Just because she thought I was her grandson when I first met her?" I asked, switching my eyes back to normal.

"Pretty much." Marcus said with a nod of his head. I sighed, shook my head, and got up off the bench. Before I got too far though, Marcus spoke up again. "There's one last thing. There's a lot about you that reminds me of the Chosen One. But there's one thing that doesn't. The most important thing - the thing he shared with his grandfather, the original Vault Dweller, who beat down The Master and destroyed his plans for Unity."

"And what's that?" I was getting quite curious, now.

"Conviction. Some men heed the call to action, and can rise above it all. But most just run away. Jacob heard the call and embraced it. So did the Vault Dweller. So did the Chosen One. All of them fought for what they believed in, and fought hard. If all humans fought for what they believed in like that, we wouldn't have needed the Master's plan in the first place. And I don't see that conviction in you. Not yet."

I had a lot to think about as I made my way towards the bighorner pens. I didn't get too much time to think about it, however, because at that moment ED-E floated up near me.

"Hey, ED-E. Guess you can't sleep either," I said with a smirk. "Did you hear any of that?" As if in response, ED-E let out a series of four shrill beeps, and then a voice came from the speaker - just like it had a few days ago when I was helping out the ghouls go into space.

"Download complete. Begin recording. Navarro outpost scientists, I am glad that ED-E has reached you. You will find several databanks of information on this machine. Please handle this information with the utmost care as it represents the sum total of the results of my research on the Duraframe Eyebots. There are also several databanks with information on my research into Poseidon Energy and some projects they were working on in the Mojave area."

Like before, the voice ended just as suddenly as it began.

"ED-E, what the fuck was that? Seriously," I asked. In response, ED-E bobbed to the side, and let out a few beeps and whistles. I shook my head. "I don't know why I keep asking you questions, I can't understand the responses."

ED-E kept following me. He'd probably been following me since I left my cabin, but now he was being a bit more obvious about it. When I finally got close to Lily, she had her back to me and I heard some odd voices. I thought for a minute that ED-E was broadcasting another recording - but it was actually coming from the small metal device in her hand: a holotape recorder.

"Grandma's here!" I heard a young girl's voice, followed by a pair of children yelling in joy and excitement.

"Oh, my goodness!" I heard an old woman speak up from the holotape speaker. "Look at these little angels. Becky, that dress looks so lovely. And Jimmy! Oh, my word, how you've grown."

"I'm four whole feet, grandma!" I heard a young boys voice.

"Did you bring us presents, grandma?" The girl spoke up again.

"Well now, I don't know," the old woman spoke up again. "Have you been good to your mommy and daddy?"

"Yes!" Both the boy and girl spoke up simultaneously.

"Well then..." the grandma started speaking again, but before she could say anything else the recording ended in static. Lily hit one of the buttons and put the recorder away.

"Lily?" I asked, trying not to be too surprising. The super mutant turned to look at me, and I could tell she was trying to smile behind the leather face harness.

"Hello again, dear!" Lily's gravelly voice rumbled, in stark contrast to the voice of the sweet old lady on the recording. "What can your grandma do for you?"

"I just wanted to check on you. You seemed a bit shaken up after we got back... especially after what happened in the cave. Are you alright?" Lily took a massive hand, and patted me on the shoulder; it was like she was trying to be gentle, but it still felt like someone smacking a tent spike with a sledgehamer.

"Oh, pumpkin, grandma's sorry about that. Sometimes she gets mad and... listens to Leo when she really shouldn't. The medicine is supposed to help with that, but sometimes grandma doesn't take it."

"Medicine?" I asked, and then I remembered - she'd said something about medicine when I'd first met her. "What kind of medicine are you taking?"

"Doctor Henry calls them 'anti-psy-ko-tiks.' I don't really know what they're supposed to do. I don't take it all the time."

"Why not?" I asked. Lily sighed. It was a deep, grumbling sound.

"Sometimes, it makes grandma forget things... she doesn't want to forget, pumpkin," With that, she pulled the holotape recorder out of the medical box she had strapped to her chest. "That's why I have this."

"Yeah, I heard a bit of that. What is it?"

"This is a holotape from the last time I visited my grandkids," Lily said, looking down at the machine in her hands. I was a bit surprised with how carefully she cradled it in her massive hands. "Such sweet little children, you know. Little angels. Sometimes... sometimes it's hard to remember them. I take this old tape out from time to time and... listen."

"And that's why you don't take your medicine all the time?" I asked. Lily nodded slowly.

"It keeps me calm, but... it makes my memory go all fuzzy. That's why I only take my dosage every other time." Lily made a noise... I couldn't quite tell what it was. It sounded like it could've been her trying to laugh softly... but it sounded a bit like soft sobbing. I couldn't tell.

"That way, at least... I can remember their faces..."