Vol. lll Chapter 36 “Just one more thing.”

“Here! In here!” John shouted, sweat dripping from his forehead. He’d been riding the fine line between enough pressure to stem the bleeding and not killing his friend. A metal scrape drew his attention as half of Janey dragged herself along the floor.

“I need to cauterize the wound John, please remove your hands.” She propped herself up, making incremental movements to the angle of her head.

“I can’t let go, just do it.” John could feel the life leaving Grant with every weakened pulse. “Do it.” Janey fired a searing beam of light clean through the back of his hand. He screamed, forcing himself to still like putting his hand into fire.

“Cauterization successful. Patient needs blood stat.” Janey dragged herself clear, John followed, letting the med techs work.

John sat back, exhausted and confused. Janey bandaged his hand, tightly. “This wound will have a marginal effect on your combat effectiveness.”

“Thank you Janey.” He flexed his bandaged hand. “Who knew you were such a good medic.”

“I have detailed files.” Her head turned to Grant and the red light began to flicker. “Scans indicate an eighty one percent survival rate. And climbing.”

Rick walked in, flinching at the sight of the robotic torso. “Is he going to make it?” Rick asked the med tech.

“If the cauterization holds,” He started to answer, but got interrupted.

“It will hold.” Janey sounded insulted.

“Then yeah, we’ll give him more blood and move him shortly.” He busied himself with bandaging.

“You ok?” Rick asked him.

“I’m fine.” John got to his feet, still not accepting what everybody else already had.

“The rifle was from the crate you were going to take. He had plenty of chances to get to it.” Rick’s explanation only brought further questions to John’s mind.

“You really think Grant did this?” John started to pace, trying to see something, anything that made sense to him.

“Maybe it’s like your friend said, kid on the way changes a man.” Rick and John had seen the Vault chew people up before. Grudges that ran deep with little else to occupy them. Yet this didn’t fell like that.

“If he was that desperate, he’d of made a break for it when he was on guard duty.” The idea hit him like a cold bucket of water. He darted for the rifle. “Empty.” He handed it to Rick. “Why would he point an empty rifle at me Rick?” John strode out to the pile of spent casings and discarded mags. “Whoever did this was a lousy shot.” John pointed down at the bullet riddled metal below. “Grant had weapons training right?”

“Yeah he did, or he wouldn’t have been on guard duty.” Rick began to question the scene played out before them.

“Rosie, check Grant’s vmails.” John spoke over his comm.

“Last message reads, ‘do it or she’s next’. Anonymous sender, tracing.” Rosie went usually quiet. “Son of bitch is smart, routes back to a server generated work order.”

“You think Grant knows how to do that?” John let the question hang in the air. “Connor did this. All of this. He’s been harassing Janey, check the reports.” Rick used his pipboy to check.

“Still doesn't prove anything John.” Rick leant on the railing, the burden of being in charge weighing heavy.

“Give me five minutes. He’ll talk.” John tried to keep the rage from his voice.

“No, not after last time. Been enough beatings and confessions in here already. I need to get things moving again. I’m sorry John, I am, but there’s no proof.”

“Hey!” Rosie’s voice and a metallic scraping drew Rick’s attention. He winced at the strange sight. “I’ve got an idea.”

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

John forced calming breaths into his lungs, tamping down his anger. He took the metal case with a hole cut in it that Rosie thought up and walked in. Connor had supposedly been in here since John left. He’d done enough work to prove it. John knew better.

“Hello again.” Connor stopped tinkering with pipe fittings a greeted him. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, most of it isn’t mine.” John had washed his face and hands, but his clothes were a different story. “I’m here to wrap things up. I’m sure you heard what happened.” John and Rick had roped in a pair of guards to gossip loudly.

“Yes, awful, just awful.” Connor sat at the worktable as John did.

“Do you know what this is?” John held up the small bottle he knew well. “Down on six, we call this blue. We paint it on the rock, it reacts with the iron, tells us where the best place to dig is. If you heat it up, like this,” John tapped on the metal box. “It reacts to gunpowder.” John held out his hand, stained blue. “See.” John paused, watching for a reaction. “You didn’t fire a gun today, did you Connor?”

“No.” Connor seemed impossibly calm.

“Great, put your hand in the box and dip it in the blue. Your hand doesn't change colour, I can let you go.” John watched as Connor played along, too arrogant not to. “Press down...good, you can take your hand out now.”

“So when do you think these will be liveable?” John got up and started walking round the room. Taking heavy steps near the wall panels.

“A few more months I think.” Connor stayed seated. “Be careful, some of those are loose.” He added, sitting calmly.

“How long till your girl’s baby is due?” John asked casually, making a fist to keep from yelling.

“Any day now.” Connor smiled, pleased with his work. John wanted to slam his face into the table.

“Well good luck to you both. Hope it goes better for you than Grant’s girl.” John held up a finger, stopping Connor’s question with a fake call over his comm. “Got it, I’ll head up now.” John started to leave.

“What happened to Janey?” Connor stood, almost blocking John.

“Who?” John played dumb, squeezing his bandaged fist so tight it hurt.

“Grant’s girl.” Connor half snarled.

“The stress of everything sent her into labour, she got stuck in the lift and they didn’t get to her in time.” John enjoyed the pain his lie caused. “Did you know her?” He taunted him.

“Only to say hello to, that’s all.” Connor slumped back into his chair.

“Yeah, awful, just awful. Anyway, I’ve got to go.” John walked halfway out the door. “There is just one more thing. Can I see your hand?” Connor took a moment to savour his last victory, then held up his hand. Not a trace of blue to be seen.

“See, didn’t fire a gun.” Connor sat back down, amused at his own deception.

“That’s strange.” John flipped open the case, revealing an off yellow paste smeared generously along the bottom. “That’s superglue. If your hand went any near it, you’d be stuck.” John put Connor in his shadow. “You took shots at me and blamed my friend. You killed a man to terrify a woman who despised you. And in the process you killed Janey, another friend of mine.”

“A friend of yours?!” Connor got angry. “I loved her. You wanted to take her out there, you would have gotten her killed. I did what I had to do to keep her safe.”

“You did get her killed. Like you killed Kyle, like you put that scalpel in Grant’s hand. Like you killed Janey.” John turned to leave.

“No, you’re not leaving.” Connor’s supposed grief put him off balance. “I killed that moron Kyle. I had Grant tip that metal onto you then told him to kill himself. They were nothing. But you, you killed my Janey!” Connor lunged at him, enraged. John threw a single, well timed jab, knocking Connor flat.

“That proof enough for you Rick?” John called out as Rick and three of his men entered.

“It is for me. Take this piece of shit to the smallest room you can find on level six till I decide what to do with him.” Rick put himself in front of John while they carried him out.

“Both Grant and Janey are stable, had a little girl. They’ve asked to see you.” Rick tensed as the robotic Janey walked in.

“Let’s go.” John let go of the tension in his mind, following Rick to the next lift

“I’ll wait here.” Rick didn’t want to get in the lift.

“Well?” He asked, getting used to talking to Rosie through Janey.

“Well what?” Rosie shot back.

“I think I proved I make a pretty good assistant.” John teased her.

“Yeah, but there was case, with glue, and you didn’t make a joke about the case sticking.” Rosie prodded back, enjoying the game.

“What about the ‘just one more thing’ bit. That was spot on, right Mike?” John heard him laugh in the background, the trick being his suggestion.

“You did good kid, both of you. I’d let you work a case.” Mike sounded genuinely proud.

“That’s settled then. The next case the Baker Street Detective Agency catches a case, John can be my assistant.” Rosie sounded almost serious. “When Janey’s busy.”

“Baker Street Detective Agency?” John questioned his new job.

“Just think about it, that’s all I’m saying.” Rosie had clearly already been doing exactly that.

John walked the corridor to the infirmary, Janey with him. They found the other Janey sat up in bed, holding her baby. Grant in a wheelchair at their side. His neck bandaged and held still with a rigid collar. He had an iv of blood in his arm and looked paler than the sheets.

“Hey.” John poked his head through the open curtain.

“Come in, both of you.” She welcomed them in, as did Grant with a smile that took real effort. “Grant can’t talk, but unfortunately it’s not going to be permanent.”

“That’s too bad.” John couldn’t take his eyes of the baby, no one could.

“If we had a boy, we were going to name him John.” Janey looked to her partner, then to the robot that helped her. “The doctor said you saved my baby. I’d like to name her after you.”

“This would be an acceptable outcome.” Janey answered in her synthetic voice.

“That means yes.” Rosie added, to clarify the answer. “She’s very pleased, trust me.”

“Janey it is then.” She had a look of joy only a mother could have.

“She’ll never know this place.” John stood, his tone firm. “I promise you that.” He left the grateful family and headed to the lift. Still with work to do before he saw his family for real.

John waited for Janey at the lift. Rosie had sent her down to six. When the lift returned, she held an old looking metal crate. John didn’t ask.

Rick lead them across the stockroom, filled with activity once again. As they waited for the lift up to the door, Rick seemed to pluck up his nerve and looked Janey right in the eye. “That really you in there Rosie?”

“It’s me Rick, think of it like a radio.” Rosie saw him facing a fear she’d once had.

“Can I ask...why me?” The stress of the job she’d given him was plain to see in the tired eyes.

“John, he always said things would be better if you were in charge. I know he didn’t mean this, but look around Rick. He was right.” She couldn’t deny the improvements. Rosie knew that she’d never step foot in there again, but it eased her mind to see things change for the better.