New Vegas: Sheason's Story

Welcome back to the Mr. New Vegas show. Breaking news: The Tops Hotel and Casino is currently and unexpectedly closed to the public. Mr. House's Securitrons have been seen stationed at the front of the casino, denying entrance to everyone attempting to enter the casino. Neither the owner of The Tops, Benny, or his right hand man, Swank, could be reached for comment. A Securitron speaking on behalf of Mr. House indicated that this is part of an ongoing attempt to remodel and revitalize aging areas of The Strip, and this is nothing to worry about. The news this hour has been brought to you by the Atomic Wrangler: Wrangle yourself some cold drinks and steamy fun tonight. Coming up next is Vera Keys, singing that classic pre-war song Begin Again.

The Old Mormon Fort wasn't like anything else in Freeside. Most of the buildings in Freeside were old, but they looked like they could've been new when the bombs fell. The fort, on the other hand, was old in a sense that I can't even truly fathom. Despite the name, the fort didn't really have any serious fortifications. The only defense I could see was a decently high wall - maybe 14, 15 feet high? - that looked like they were made from the same sand-clay-sticks-mud material as the adobe buildings I'd seen in Arroyo years ago. Which made sense, when I saw the sign out front: apparently the "Old Las Vegas Mormon Historical Park" had been built in 1855. 426 years ago... I couldn't even imagine that far back.

Inside the wooden gates was a large courtyard, ringed by row after row of tents. Most of the tents were open, and I could see dozens of people either lying on cots, milling about talking to one another, or sitting at tables, talking to one another, eating, drinking, and who knows what else. A fourth of the people I could see walking around were wearing white coats, and looked like doctors. There were half a dozen other people around carrying guns - guards, most likely. All around the tents were crates, piled on top of one another, and barrels with "H2O" spray painted on the side. Most of the barrels looked empty.

In the center of the courtyard was a ring of sandbags, surrounding a metal flagpole. At the top of the flagpole the flag of the Followers of the Apocalypse was flying. The flag was very simple: it was a white flag, and in the center was a pronged, black cross, with a black disk sitting off center connecting the prongs. The whole image was surrounded by a black ring. All the doctors I saw wearing the labcoats had a patch with the symbol sewn onto the shoulders of their coats.

"So, this is the Old Mormon Fort?" I asked, turning to Veronica. She was still looking up at the flag.

"I guess so," she replied, nodding.

"It's kind of ironic, if you think about it."

"Huh?" She turned to look at me with a quizzical look. Even ED-E seemed to turn and look at me.

"Well, the first time I met members of the Followers was at their headquarters in the Boneyard. When I asked what they were all about, they told me that they reject things like gods and religion and supernatural mystical hocus-pocus nonsense like that, focusing on things like science and medicine, knowledge, reason, morals, ethics, etc. But where do they set up shop here in the Mojave? A place with an old world religion right in the name." I heard Veronica try to stifle a chuckle under her breath; ED-E, on the other hand, let loose a series of harsh beeps that definitely sounded like laughter.

"Yeah," Veronica said, finally letting a few laughs escape, "I guess that is kinda funny."

As the three of us laughed, one of the doctors approached us. I couldn't immediately tell how old she was, but that was because my attention was drawn away from her face. The sides of her head were shaved almost completely bald, and the only real hair to speak of - and you could, trust me - was a bright, almost unnatural orange, that stood straight up in a very, very pointy Mohawk.

"Hello there," she spoke in a kind, gentle voice that made me realize I was staring, and shook me out of it. "My name is Julie Farkas. Are you here to drop off medical supplies?"

A twinge started to form in the pit of my stomach... a sensation that had become all too familiar the last few days.

"No... I'm actually here because I have a bullet lodged in my leg and I'd like to get rid of it," I said, patting my left knee with a grimace. "So, does that mean you don't have any medical supplies? Or do you just need more?"

"We always need more," she said with a sigh. "Things are awful in Freeside, and we need all the help we can get to give aid and shelter to those who need it. And I'm sorry... but I have good news and bad news."

"Give me the bad news first," I sighed, trying to ignore the throbbing in my temple where Benny shot me. "Might as well get it over with."

"We can't really help with your injury here. The fort acts as the administrative headquarters for the Mojave detachment of the Followers, a free clinic offering basic medical treatment, and a halfway house for the destitute and those in the most dire need, but we're not really equipped for any kind of surgery, invasive or otherwise."

I frowned, and resisted the urge to let out a string of incredibly vulgar profanity. I thought Veronica said I could get medical treatment here? This was starting to look like a long walk for nothing.

"But the good news," Julie continued, "is that I know where you can get patched up. A close friend of mine and another member of the Followers, Dr. Usanagi, has set up a medical clinic outside of Freeside, about a mile and a half east of the Crimson Caravan's headquarters. She'll be able to help you with anything you need, from surgery to remove a bullet to cybernetic implants."

"If she's so good," I asked, scratching the back of my head "why isn't she set up here? I mean, you look like you have enough space."

"Because she's forced to charge for her services. The Auto-Docs that assist her in medical operations are incredibly difficult to maintain and run, not to mention expensive. This is a free clinic - having a doctor who charges for medical treatment here... it wouldn't be smart." I had to admit, in a way that made sense, and the fact that Usanagi had Auto-Docs was definitely promising. By the time those old world machines were done with me, my knee would probably feel better than new.

I was about to ask her for more specific directions, when Veronica spoke up. She had been listening in and looking around the fort while Julie and I had been talking.

"Are things really that rough here in Freeside?" she asked.

"More than rough," Julie said, shaking her head with a sigh. "It's a damn mess." There was something in the tone of her voice... she sounded desperate. And tired. And then I got that feeling in the back of my skull - the one that made the logical, pragmatic part of my brain start yelling at me.

Don't do it. Don't you dare do it.

"Freeside townies are constantly picking fights with NCR civilians," she continued. "Thugs and thieves are always looking for a fresh victim, and the local families are just sitting back making caps on the mess."

Don't do it, I just kept thinking. This isn't your fight.

"The Followers can only do so much to stem the tide. Freeside is in dire need, but no one has been man enough to step up."

Damnit all!

"Is... is there anything I can do to help?" I eventually heard myself say. Her expression brightened, and she smiled at me.

"There's always something that needs to be done. The most important thing would be organizing a regular supply of medicine to the fort. Unfortunately, the Crimson Caravan wants too many caps for what we need. There's also been a lot of tensions brewing between the townies and NCR squatters, like I said before. I've tried talking to The King, but if someone doesn't do something to calm tensions soon, I'm afraid a lot of innocent people are going to get hurt. Of course, I also know a few people who could be great assets to the community, if only they'd kick their addictions."

As soon as she mentioned the addicts, both sides of my brain shut up.

"Wait," I said. "What was that about addicts?"

"Freeside is full of addicts, but there are two in particular who I think we can help, and who could definitely help the community in turn once they get clean: Old Bill Ronte and Jacob Hoff. Unfortunately, they're not going to kick their addictions on their own. Bill Ronte is an exceptionally skilled machinist, who could fix the problems we've been having with Freeside's water pump... but only once he sobers up. Then there's Jacob, who got hooked on chems by the Garrets when he was working for them. Honestly, it's a bit ironic, since he used to homebrew detox chems for the Followers a few years ago. If he gets clean, he might be able to help us again."

"Do you know where I can find them?" I asked, with a conviction I didn't realize I had until I'd heard the words escape my mouth.

"In Freeside, the drunks and the drug addicts flock in and around the Atomic Wrangler. I'd start there. You can find it at the west end of Fremont Street. There's a big neon sign above the door of a cowboy riding an atom, you can't miss it." She paused, then added "Do you really think you might be able to help with some of our problems?" She sounded incredibly hopeful, and looked up at me with a pleading expression.

"I'll see what I can do."

Julie punched the coordinates for Dr. Usanagi's clinic into my Pip Boy, and then politely excused herself, saying that she needed to tend to other business around the fort. After she left, Veronica slowly inched her way towards me.

"That's awful nice of you, offering to help them out like this," she said. I shrugged.

"I said I'd see what I can do. It's not like I promised to fix all of Freeside's problems overnight or anything."

"Still, it's more than most people nowadays would do." She looked around the fort and added, seemingly to herself "Can't help but be impressed by what they're doing here..." Veronica shook it off, and looked back at me. "It begs the question though - why?"

"Why?" I repeated, a bit taken aback by the question. She nodded.

"I admit, I haven't known you for very long. Probably less than a day. But I've seen enough of how you operate so far to take an educated guess: you don't do anything without a reason. So what's your reason for helping the Followers?"

I paused for a minute, trying to consider her question. My knee started to flare up slightly for no obvious reason, so I used that as an excuse to delay while I found a place to sit down. After we found a pair of chairs outside a tent on the north end of the fort, I decided to be straight and honest with her.

"Because of the addicts," I said, sitting down. "When she talked about helping the addicts get clean, I felt... compelled."

"There's a story here, isn't there?" She looked at me with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

"Using my own words against me, huh?" She nodded smugly. "Alright, alright. I'll tell you the story. I decided to help out when she mentioned the addicts, because I used to be an addict myself. It was a long time ago, back when I was still living in Shady Sands."

"How long ago was that?"

"Hell," I said, the details returning to the forefront of my mind, "It was about 13 years ago, maybe a bit more. I was in my mid twenties, but it felt like I was still barely out of my teens. I was just a dumb kid... made a lot of dumb decisions..." I trailed off a bit, a number of painful memories that I'd much rather stay buried started to surface. I shook it off, realizing I'd been staring off in space, and continued. Unfortunately, the memories were forced to continue with me.

"There was a girl. You asked earlier if I'd ever been in love, and all I said was yes. Doesn't really do the story justice. I don't want to bore you with all the pointless, trivial details, but... see, what happened was, she and I were together for a while, and then one day, she leaves me. Never gave me a real reason, so me being the immature, idiot-child I was back then, I blamed it all on myself. It was a real hit to my own self-worth, you know? And then I thought, maybe if I was better somehow, she might take me back."

"Better?" Veronica asked dubiously. "What do you mean, better?"

"I mean the kind of better you get with Mentats. At least, at the time, I thought it was better. I know different now, but... basically, I started taking Party-Time Mentats to try and give my mind a boost, and make myself... 'better' so she'd come back to me. Eventually though..." I sighed. "Eventually I forgot all about why I was taking them. It got to the point where I was popping the damn things like candy... where the world just didn't seem right, and I didn't feel like myself if I wasn't high on that damn brain enhancer. Nothing else in the world mattered... except that boost."

"So what happened?"

"A long story filled with sighs is what happened. But, suffice to say, eventually I realized I had a problem. I got help. I got clean. Haven't touched Mentats or the Party-Time version since, and I've tried to be careful whenever I might need to use anything that could get me hooked on something worse. And that's why I'm sympathetic to Julie's desire to help these guys get clean. I've been in their shoes. I know what it's like. And I know how hard it is to take that first step towards getting help." I paused, then added under my breath "Maybe I can do some good for once."

Before I could continue with any more introspection, I felt something metal and heavy shove itself against the back of my head. I turned around in my chair and was face to grille with ED-E, who was floating nearby and beeping, and had obviously nudged me to get my attention.

"ED-E? What's up?" I asked the robot. ED-E beeped, and floated slightly to his right, in a motion vaguely reminiscent of someone gesturing with their head to look somewhere. I looked out in that direction, to see what ED-E was "pointing" at.

On the far eastern side of the fort, near one of the larger tents, I saw one of the Followers doctors staring at us. Specifically, it looked like he was starting at ED-E. I couldn't really tell from this distance, but he looked like he could be about my age... maybe a little older. His hair was a sort of wavy corn silk blonde, parted to one side, and he wore a pair of square, thick rimmed black spectacles. When he saw me take notice of him, he quickly started looking around, as if to try and hide the fact that he was staring, and he walked away from his spot into one of the tents.

"What's up? What's going on?" Veronica asked. I got up from my chair, and pointed over to where the man had been standing.

"One of the Followers was staring at ED-E."

"Makes sense," she said with a shrug, getting up as well. "ED-E is kind of unique. I haven't seen any other robots around here quite like it."

"Maybe so, but he was really staring. Like he was spying on him, or something."

"Spying? Don't you think that's a bit paranoid?"

"If he wasn't spying, why would he have ducked into a tent to hide the moment he realized I'd spotted him?" I turned to the robot floating next to me. "So, what do you think - go for the direct approach? Find out what his interest is?" ED-E beeped approvingly, and bobbed up and down in a sort of nod.

Less than a minute later, the three of us entered the tent where he had tried to hide. He wasn't that hard to spot. He was standing with his back to us in front of an unstable looking desk, on top of which were numerous vials and tubes and chemistry equipment, clipboards, stacks of notes, and a dizzying number of pencils - all of which seemed to be broken. Next to the desk was a bookshelf, each shelf filled with books stacked both in rows and on top of one another, all in various states of legibility and disrepair. Pinned to the side of the tent were papers, charts and graphs. He was just standing at the desk. At first glance, I thought he might have been working on something, but then I realized he wasn't actually moving.

"Hey there," I called out to get his attention. He jumped slightly, in a motion that seemed just a bit too well rehearsed, and turned around swiftly to face us. He smiled at the two of us with an awkward, toothy grin.

"Oh... uh... hi there. I'm Arcade. Arcade Gannon. If you're looking for medical help, you should try one of the other doctors. I'm just a researcher. Not even a particularly good one."

"I'm Sheason," I said, crossing my arms over my chest. "I'm actually wondering why you were staring at ED-E."

"Eddie? Who?" He asked, and I jabbed a thumb at the robot floating to my right. "Oh, the eyebot. Sorry, I didn't realize I was staring."

"Forgive me if I don't believe you," I said narrowing my eyes. "So, you mind telling me what your interest is in my robot?"

Arcade shifted his stance backwards, looking from Veronica, to me, and then to ED-E, glaring almost imperceptibly at the eyebot. I saw his right hand rest on his coat, right near his hips... and from inside the folds of his labcoat, right above where his hand had come to rest, a glint of something shiny and metal caught my eye. And then he shifted his stance again, straightening his coat and clearing his throat.

"I'm just a little wary of... I'm not a big fan of robots. Especially ones like yours. Some of these robots, you look at them the wrong way, don't screw in a vacuum tube right... and then -" he snapped his fingers "- the next thing you know, you're a pile of glowing ash on the ground, and someone's stepping out of a vertibird to sweep your remains into a Nuka Cola bottle."

"So, is that why you have a pistol at your side?" I asked. "In case you run into any rogue robots?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Gannon said just a little bit quickly.

"This isn't just a pistol!" Veronica exclaimed suddenly. Both of us turned, and I was incredibly surprised to see her at Arcade's side (How did she get there without me noticing? Wasn't she standing next to me a second ago?) with a very sophisticated looking energy weapon in her hands. She was holding it up to the light and examining it with wide eyes and an even wider smile. "This is a Glock 86 plasma defender - designed by the Gaston Glock AI in 2035! This is an incredibly sophisticated and very rare piece of pre-war technology! Where did you get this?"

"Give that back!" Arcade said as he snatched the pistol out of Veronica's hands. Very quickly he examined the gun, and put it back in it's holster, covering it with his labcoat. "Alright, fine. I carry a pistol. What of it?"

"You said you were a researcher?" Veronica asked.

"What kind of a researcher needs to carry around a plasma pistol?" I added.

"Glock 86 plasma de-" Veronica began, but I held up my hand to stop her. If I left her to it, she'd probably ramble on about the pistol for hours.

"There's no way I'm going to say that every time. It's a plasma pistol." I turned back to Arcade. "Point still stands, though. That's some pretty heavy armament you're packing - are you researching giant radscorpions or something?"

"No, no, nothing like that," he said, straightening his labcoat. "My research is primarily focused on finding alternative treatments for common illnesses and injuries. Stimpacks out of barrel cacti and other fantastic improbabilities. As far as fruitless wastes of time go, it's quite noble in its aims." He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "As for the pistol, I only carry it because it's dangerous in the Mojave Wasteland. Much more dangerous than any place back west."

Something wasn't adding up. If that plasma pistol was as rare as Veronica claimed it was, how could someone like a researcher for the Followers of the Apocalypse come across it? He didn't look the sort suited to scavenging, and he probably couldn't afford it. And yeah, the Mojave Wasteland was proving a bit more dangerous than other places, but it's not like there was a deathclaw behind every rock... unlike some other places I've been. Before I could finish figuring it out, Veronica distracted me. Perhaps bringing her along as a mobile distraction wasn't the best idea.

"Illnesses and injuries? What sort?" Veronica asked. She'd been looking over the notes pinned to the side of the tent while I had been sizing up Arcade. He shrugged.

"Cuts, lacerations, broken bones. Infections resulting from all of the above. Common cold, influenza... take your pick. There are plenty of ways to die out here, and most of them, surprisingly, don't have anything to do with war. Just common human fragility."

"Why?" I asked. Arcade looked at me questioningly.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Why are you trying to make stimpacks out of barrel cacti? I mean, you said yourself that it's a 'fantastic improbability,' so why even bother?"

"The past hundred years or so, the Followers have managed to get by using salvaged medical supplies from the old world. But the side effect of medical success is that more people live longer," Arcade chucked grimly, with a sick sort of desperation in his laugh. "Funny how that works. Eventually, we'll run out of hospitals to loot. We need new ways to produce those supplies. Or maybe old ways, if this research goes anywhere." He sighed, and looked at the notes on his desk. "But I doubt it will."

"You don't really sound all that enthusiastic about it."

"I'm enthusiastic about helping people, but nihil novi sub sole."

"What was that?" Veronica asked. "Isn't that the language Caesar's Legion speaks?"

"Caesar can cite Cato to suit his purposes. Many people have spoken Latin over the centuries... some of them were quite pleasant. It's unfortunate that the language is now associated with the gentlemen across the river."

"Where did you learn to speak that?" I asked.

"Not from Legion, if that's what you're getting at. Books, sheet music, gladiator movie holotapes... I've picked up bits and pieces here and there. The Followers have extensive libraries, but we all draw water from the same old well. Even Caesar."

"Do you know much about Caesar?" A thought had occurred to me: eventually, I was going to have to head to Cottonwood Cove and infiltrate the Legion stronghold. And this guy seemed to know a bit about the language Legion spoke. Maybe he might know something that would be useful.

"I don't really know anything that the others couldn't tell you," he said with a shrug.

"Others? What others?"

"Caesar was one of the Followers." Arcade said matter-of-factly. "Before my time, of course. He wanted to rebuild the new world in the image of the old. A sad story of good intentions gone bad. In that regard, he's hardly unique. If you set aside his leadership capabilities, extensive knowledge, and ruthless cunning, he's just another jerk who steps on people to get his way."

"I'm a bit confused about something, actually," Veronica spoke up. She'd been shuffling through his papers and notes while we'd been talking. "If you're enthusiastic about helping people, but you think all this research is pointless, why do it? Why not provide medical help like the other Followers?" Arcade turned to her and very calmly pulled the research notes out of her hands.

"Please don't touch my things anymore," He said, shuffling them and putting the notes back on his desk. "And to answer your question, not all Followers are 'people persons.' And even though I'm sure I'd do more good in the short term with my medical expertise, I'm just not all that good with people. Besides, someone needs to do the research, so I don't have a problem with Julie sticking me back here. Out of sight, out of mind, you know? I'm fine doing research back here, even if it is a bit boring..." he sighed. "...and pointless..." he looked down at his shoes and sighed again. "...and a complete waste of time."

Eventually, he looked up and realized the three of us - even ED-E - had been staring at him. He tried to wave it off with a chuckle. "Don't mind me. I'm just voicing my thoughts so they don't burrow out of my skull in a fit of abject despondency."

If you ask me now, I couldn't tell you why I said what I said next. But before I even really realized I was speaking, I heard words come out of my mouth.

"Why don't you come with me?"

He looked at me with an expression that matched my own internal surprise. Veronica too, as she looked back and forth between the two of us. ED-E just hovered behind me and beeped warily.

"No offense," he said. "but why should I go anywhere with you?"

When I gave my answer, it was almost like I could feel House speaking through me.

"We got off on the wrong foot, I admit. But things are pretty bad around here - Julie made that much clear. And as it happens... I'm in the unique position of being able to help. I want to actually make a difference for once in my life, and I can tell that you want to help too. I don't want to offer you an incentive as crude as money, but there will be plenty, trust me. What I want to do is offer you what my employer has offered me: a future, not just for you, or me, or Veronica, or any of the others who are following me, but for what remains of the human race."

Both Arcade and Veronica stared at me for a few moments, and I could almost hear the gears turning in his head as he considered the offer.

"Huh... That seems appropriately resolute and yet vague." He rubbed his chin and regarded me carefully. "But why? Why are you interested in someone like me?"

To answer his question, I grabbed the collar of my jacket and stuck my thumb through the hole in the right shoulder. Arcade smiled and chuckled a bit when he saw the bullet hole.

"I've been in more than a few scrapes over the last few days. I figured that I might need someone who knows a bit more about medicine than me."

"Alright," he said, still chuckling and stroking his chin. "I guess I can give you the benefit of the doubt. At least for a little while. Just one thing: your employer better not be Caesar. If you plan to help the Legion, this is going to be a brief relationship. I may not have all the answers for how to fix the problems in the Mojave, but Caesar taking control isn't part of the solution. Fair?"

"That's fair," I nodded. "Just so long as you're clear about something as well: ED-E has saved my skin many times, and if you do anything to him, I won't be held responsible for what I do to you. Is that fair?"

"I suppose that's fair enough," He glared at the eyebot. "Just don't ask me to re-attach your arm when your pet murder machine goes into 'search and destroy' mode. Give me a few minutes to pack up and get some things in order, alright?"

"Sounds good," I said, nodding. "Just one question I forgot to ask earlier. Nihil novi sub sole. What does it mean?"

"Oh. Sorry. It's Latin for 'there is nothing new under the sun.'"

While Arcade was gathering his things, and arranging it with Julie so he could accompany us, Veronica pulled me aside.

"Do you really think it's a good idea to bring him with us? I mean, he obviously doesn't like ED-E all that much. There's just something wrong with somebody that suspicious of robots. And there's just something... he seems a little shifty, you know? Like he's hiding something."

"Oh, and of course, you've never hidden anything from anybody, have you?" I asked with a smirk. She opened her mouth as if to argue, and then snapped it shut with a blush.

"Fair point."

"Yeah, I agree with you that he's obviously hiding something. It seems like everyone that's getting attached to this steadily growing caravan is hiding something... But you have to admit, we could use the medical help. And I figure that if what he's hiding is important enough, we'll find out about it eventually. As for ED-E..." I took a look at the eyebot, who hovered in front of me, and beeped quizzically. "Honestly, I'm not worried. ED-E can fly, and he's armed with a laser. I'm sure he can handle himself well enough, can't you boy?" I patted his chassis with a ringing metal sound, and he chirped proudly. "There is something I've been meaning to ask you, though."

"Yes?" Veronica looked at me from under her hood with a questioning glance.

"When you grabbed Arcade's plasma gun. How did you get it without either of us noticing?"

"What can I say," she shrugged. "I'm a procurement specialist, like I told you. I'm very good at procuring things. Often without people realizing." She smiled a faux-innocent smile. I just shook my head.

"And here I thought Cass was a kleptomaniac. I'm gonna have to worry about both of you stealing anything not nailed down, aren't I?"