Chapter 22

She washed herself of the filth of the NCR, the sins of Silus, by exploring forbidden territory. Caesar wanted her to visit the Boomers, the White Glove Society. She visited the Followers of the Apocalypse instead.

It was curiosity, really. To see the origins of Caesar. To test the extent of their goodwill philosophies. After the ruthlessness of the Legion, the brutality, she felt her own self corrupted, her soul stained. Carla and Baby Craig had once been her anchor of goodness and empathy.

But her list of sins was growing. Mr. House. Martina Groesbeck. The unfortunate private at the NCR framed for treason. Even Silus. In a way, seeking out the Followers of the Apocalypse was a search for redemption.

"Get in a fight?" asked Julie Farkas, as she examined her swollen knuckles. The leader of the Old Mormon For produced a stimpak from her lab coat.

"You could say that," she said carefully, bracing herself for the pinch of the stimpak's needle.

"It could always be worse," Julie concluded with a hint of a smile, pocketing the used stimpak. The Followers discarded nothing. "Let me know if you need anything else. We'll do our best, even if our supplies are low at the moment."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" she ventured.

Julie blinked, looking shocked but ultimately pleased with the offer as her smile grew more sincere. "You really want to help?"

She nodded. "I can do anything you need. Anything."

Julies steered her out of the medical tent, detailing the problems that plagued the Followers. Mostly, they needed a stable supply line of medicine. Then there were other things—people strung out on addiction. She was worried and needed them back so they could help the community.

She nodded. "I'll see what I can do."

It was easy to convince the Atomic Wrangler to trade with the Followers. Julie wasn't as thrilled with the idea, blaming the Wrangler for creating a massive demand for addictive chems. But even Julie wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth. She reluctantly accepted this new exchange with the Atomic Wrangler.

The man standing next to her quirked a pale eyebrow and it arched above his eyeglasses. He didn't say anything until Julie walked away to tend to more patients. "Bit ironic, isn't?" he asked. "We're trying to cure people of their addiction by giving money to the people who cause it."

She admittedly agreed it wasn't the best option, but his sharp words annoyed her. "It looks like the Followers don't have much room to argue."

He shrugged. "A fair point. That's why Julie walked away instead of arguing. I merely question the effectiveness of the decision."

"Look, I agree with the work you're doing here, but you can't deny how much the Followers are struggling," she pointed out, thinking of what Vulpes had said. Caesar had specific plans to exterminate them. They had to be prepared for the inevitable. "A detail like the identity of your supplier of medicine becomes irrelevant if the Followers just die out. How can you help people then?"

"Like I said, a fair point," he said. "But a small detail like that becomes significant when the Followers get big enough to make a difference. What does it say of us if we contribute to the illness of addiction?"

"Hopefully, once you're that big, you'll have the economic stability to have the pick of your preferred supplier."

He grinned, and it was amused. "I'm Arcade, by the way. Self-appointed Head of Research. Really, Julie sticks me in the back and lets me work on what I want. I'm not so good at dealing with people."

His quick words suggested a unique wit she rarely encountered in the Wasteland. She smiled. "You seem to be doing fine with me."

Arcade seemed rather surprised by this realization. "Perhaps it's because of the person I'm speaking to. You don't strike me as one of the blind masses following the NCR."

She blinked at his frankness. "You don't like the NCR?" She was surprised, thinking most people worshiped the heroism of the New California Republic.

"No, quite honestly, I don't. Where Mr. House was one individual of avarice, pride, and selfishness, the NCR is a collective cesspool with basically the same goals—to conquer and exploit."

"What about the Legion?" she asked curiously.

Arcade barked a single, humorlessly bitter laugh. "Lord Caesar? Apart from the ruthless brutality and forced slavery, what's not to love? No, I do not have to be on the side of either the Legion or NCR. The Wasteland would be better off without any of them, though the Legion is definitely by far the worst."

Something in Arcade's words resonated deep within her. His words were eloquently anachronistic. She imagined that Vulpes, without Legion contamination, would be very much like him.

Still, she couldn't help but prod Arcade on his ideologies. "I had heard that Caesar was once a Follower of the Apocalypse."

Instantly, Arcade's face hardened. "The madness and tyranny of one man is not the fault of his birthplace."

She used the next day to herd the junkies back to the Old Mormon Fort. They were belligerent at first but actually required very little convincing to return to the Followers of the Apocalypse. When she escorted them back, she came across Arcade gain. He seemed eager to see her as well, but in light of their previous conversation, he kept his excitement reserved.

"Hello again. I'm surprised to see you here. I did not think you would care about us little people."

She frowned. "I told Julie I wanted to help. I told you that I agree with your work here. Why would that be surprising?"

Arcade shrugged. "Your line of questioning yesterday suggested your skepticism of our abilities here."

"I was just picking your brain," she dismissed. "Don't take it personally."

"I never caught your name."

"I never gave it."

There was an awkward pause, a tension hanging in the air over the issue of her name. Little did he know how much mystery it held for her.

She took a leap, hoping Vulpes had been right. "It's Mary."

"Mary," Arcade repeated.

She wrinkled her nose at the sound of it. Mary sounded too flowery, too innocent to suit her. She was undeserving of it. "Tell me about yourself, Arcade," she asked, getting her mind off the gaping rift of her memories.

"There's not much to tell. Just a sad child with a sad childhood. My mother did her best with me, though there's little a mother can do with a dysfunctional child."

"You're not dysfunctional," she protested.

He gave another shrug, as if the sadness of life was a casual topic worthy of dismissal. "You didn't know me as a child. Perhaps I'm better at hiding it now. After all, I'm researching mechanics of useless plants instead of treating people like the other doctors here. What purpose do I serve now? Dysfunctional."

Julie approached them then, and Arcade instantly fell silent in her presence. "Thank you for bringing those people back to us," she said.

"It's my pleasure. Is there something else I can do to help?"

Julie was taken aback by the offer once more. "I-I don't have anything else at the moment. If you come across any medicine, we greatly appreciate donations."

She nodded. "Of course."

Julie left them alone again, and for once, Arcade struggled to fill the following silence. "Like Julie said. We appreciate your help. We don't typically see this amount of kindness from Wastelanders."

"I'm not like other Wasterlanders," she confided with a coy smile. Perhaps it was all the pride and bravado Vulpes had built her up on it, but maybe she was beginning to believe in the whole rising from the dead with a purpose.

She lingered at the Mormon Fort for a few days. Her time with Siri and the Legion afforded her knowledge of medicinal techniques that did not require the use of stimpaks and she shared this information with the Follower doctors. But soon, her time at the Fort came to standstill. Most of the Follower patients were recovering addicts who required days of rehabilitation. There was little she could do.

And a nervous pressure began pushing at the base of her neck. She had been away from Fortification Hill for many days now. Without the presence of the Legion or performing Caesar's tasks, she began to feel renewed. Without the oppressive shadow of the Legion and Vulpes, she could enjoy her small measure of freedom.

But an anxiety persisted at the back of her mind. Caesar and Vulpes would not be patient forever. She would need to return eventually.

Or what?

Admittedly, the thought of opposing Caesar was exhilarating. But she was also afraid.

Primarily, she was terrified of Vulpes, no matter what her defiance may have been with Captain Curtis. The bruises on her arm still lingered from the aftermath, Vulpes's rage, of her tryst with Sarah. And she knew she was not in any position to oppose the entire Legion.

Yet.

She knew she had to leave. She said her goodbyes to Julie and the others the night before. For Arcade, she offered him an opportunity.

"Come with me," she pleaded. She enjoyed his company, though she didn't want to say that aloud.

He seemed skeptical at first. "Where?"

"Nelson Air Force Base. Imagine what we could accomplish with the Boomers. They have the firepower to stand up to the NCR."

"And the Legion," he added.

She nodded. "And the Legion," she agreed, though she was not yet prepared to take them on. She recalled the rumors of Lanius, Monster of the East.

He thought for a moment. "Why do you want me?" he asked.

"Because you are capable of so much more than researching irradiated plants. You can make a difference, and I trust you, Arcade. Don't be so hard on yourself."

He smirked, folding his arms. "Fine. But you do realize the Boomers will blow up anyone that gets too close to the base?"