Chapter 37 “A study in blue.”

John stepped out of the lift, seeing his friends and the dozen evacuees waiting. “We’re all set, Brother.” Crixus greeted him. “Or we can rest up a while.”

“No, these people have waited long enough.” John looked around, seeing the evacuees had been fitted with harnesses made from rope.

“Set up a couple of cargo lines, usually reserved for hostiles, but it’ll get us going.” Crixus had spent his time wisely. John trusted him without question.

Dawn began to break as John and Beverly walked down the rocky path. He followed the taught, blue rope. Fixed to a spike driven the rock at one end. Suspended from the ground, and tied off round a tree. He left Beverly halfway, where a second rope started at a different angle.

“Crixus, Ronin. Send the cargo.” John waited for what seemed longer than a few minutes. Then he saw a streak of blue, zipping down the line towards him. Blindfolded, attached at the chest, hands and feet. Tied up like a prisoner.

Beverly slowed the speed by pulling on the line and John helped the first man to the waiting Vertibird. Crixus had detached both miniguns to save weight, tying a net of rope over each open door.

An hour later, the Vertibird sat fully loaded. John heard a shriek of delight and turned to see Beverly riding down the line instead of walking.

She spoke calmly, reassuring the evacuees, and took the copilot’s seat.

“Cruxis, Ronin. We’re wheels up. Eta for extract six hours from this location. How copy?” John confirmed the plan while doing his preflight checks and flipping overhead switches.

“Solid copy Ronin. We’ll be here.” Crixus stayed with Robco and Janey, waiting for him to return.

The twin triple rotors whirred into a roar. John flicked off the weight alarm and eased the throttle up. The Vertibird forced itself into the air with raw power and sheer torque.

Noise and vibration filled the packed cabin. All eight seats full, and four crouched on the floor. Some screamed, even a few that didn’t held onto the rope. Then the vomiting started, like a chain reaction. There was nothing that could be done to help them, save for the breeze flowing through the cabin.

John touched down in a field near a stream at Beverly’s suggestion. One by one he helped the vault dwellers out, taking off their blindfolds and watching them see for the first time.

Green fields crossed with shimmering water, bathed in the noon day sun. Nothing else mattered. Not the chaos of the trip. Not the vomit on their suits and in their hair. They were out.

Beverly helped them clean up water from the stream. Some of them wading right in. John did his best to wash out the cabin, hoping Valkyrie never found out.

“We’re at least two miles from your house. We should get moving.” John wanted to get back, having been awake for the past thirty hours.

“You go, I’ll get them home.” Beverly seemed perfectly at ease. “Hand me my pack.” Beverly opened her pack and started passing out little silver squares. Each of them opened the little packet, unfurling a thin, shiny sheet. John had seen them used by Brotherhood medics to keep people warm. Now they hid the vault-suits from prying eyes.

John couldn’t resist looking back as he climbed in the Vertibird. A line of glinting silver in the green below as the first of his people started their new lives.

He flew north before heading back west, throwing off anyone who might have taken notice. It took hours to fly back.

John took advantage of the clear weather to survey the area above and around the Vault. The rock above looked solid enough for what he had in mind.

“Ronin, Crixus. Lz is clear. How copy?” Crixus appeared in the garden of the ruined house below, guiding him in to land. John shut down the engines and stepped out.

“You look like shit, Brother.” Crixus handed him a tin cup of hot coffee.

“Feel like shit, Brother.” John gulped down the coffee, getting more than a hint of whiskey. He followed Crixus back inside the ruined house, finding Robco and Janey by a stack of metal crates. Far more than the six crates of rifles.

Janey started to load the crates. Crixus shook his head in disbelief as he reattached the miniguns.

“Rosie invited me and Frank for dinner.” Robco sounded pleased by the idea. “Told Frank she’d fly him home after dark.”

“That’s great.” John let out a sigh, slumping back in his plastic chair. “If that’s alright with you, of course.” John knew Robco guarded the secret of his home’s location, to say nothing of his feelings towards the Brotherhood.

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“Fine by me, we had a long talk. He’s a good man. I see why you look up to him.” Robco had picked up John’s admiration.

“Not just him.” John smiled and sipped his coffee, seeing Robco pleased with the compliment. “About the wedding,” He still didn’t have a full grasp on what that entailed. “I can handle not having my teammates there.” It made him sadder than he thought to hear out loud. “But Rosie. She went through a lot with them. They’re her family.”

“You invite whoever you want, son. I trust you.” Robco’s trust in him meant a great deal to John.

“Hey John.” Crixus called over, working on the near side minigun. “Robco told me about the night you met.” He spooled up the six barrelled gun to test it, then let it spin to a stop. “A feral.” He shook his head with feigned disappointment. “I don’t know what Sara’s going to do to you when she finds out.”

“Please don’t tell her.” John would have run laps till he collapsed if it meant seeing Sara.

“Not a chance.” Crixus grinned at the thought. “Guns are hot and the bird’s loaded Brother.”

“Let’s go home.” John enjoyed saying that. He helped Robco to the bird and took flight.

An hour later, John brought the Vertibird down in the centre of Robco’s Rest. He watched Crixus take in the log cabins built in a circle around a road that went nowhere. All secured behind a braced wall of logs.

He put his arm on John’s shoulder as he stepped out. “A fine place Brother.” He saw the older folks sitting on their porches. Children playing with the dogs. “A fine place indeed.”

“How ‘bout a drink?” Robco walked, helped by John, to the back of his house. He took the last few steps himself, falling into his motorised armchair.

The metal treads clunked as Robco led them to his still. Right away Crixus took a piece of wood from the pile and laid it on top. Observing the tradition. Robco used the tap and passed out three tin mugs. “To the freed.” Crixus raised his cup, first to his host, then John. They all threw back the strong, sharp moonshine, toasting those who now lived free.

John left Robco and Crixus, eager to take a shower. He stepped through his front door, hung up his coat and weapons. Finally taking off his boots. The sound of light hammering stopped and Rosie appeared. “Take a shower.” Rosie pointed to a towel and fresh clothes. “I’ll start dinner. Stay out of the bedroom, I’m not finished.”

John took a long, surprisingly hot, shower. He scrubbed away his friend’s dried blood, washed out the smell of gunpowder and stale air.

He dressed in a plain t shirt and fresh jeans, and found Rosie scoring a leg of venison. “Did you enjoy your shower?” Rosie asked, her question loaded. “Say thank you Janey.” He turned to see the robot ripping the husks from corn,

“Thank you Janey.” He didn’t know what for, not till Rosie blurted it out.

“I welded a tungsten rod into the water tank and had Janey zap it.” She seasoned the raw meat with herbs and powders, before drizzling with oil. Rosie slid the tray into the oven and started clearing the table.

“You’ve been busy.” John could see she hadn’t slept.

“Shit, I’m just getting started.” Rosie bragged.

“You know there’s no rush. No one is taking this place from us.” John had felt the same fear, going back to the Vault brought it to the surface. Rosie’s frantic energy receded and she came from the table.

“I know that. Helps to hear though.” She slid her hands up his chest and clasped the back of his neck. “There is something I need you for.” Rosie whispered softly, at first. “Chop those carrots and onions.” She kissed him on the cheek and got back to making dinner.

John had nearly finished his, apparently suboptimal, prep work when he heard a knock on the front door. “Welcome Brother. Please, our home is yours.” John greeted Crixus and showed him in. Fire roaring in the brick hearth. Music and the smell of food in the air. Boxes and crates dotted around the mismatched furniture.

“A welcoming home it is, Brother.” He clapped John on the back and took off his weapons.

“We welcome you as an honoured guest.” Rosie tried to remember the formal greeting. “That’s not right.”

“Close enough.” He shook her hand. “That’s more Beverly’s thing, She’s going to be pleased to hear about this place.” He turned to John, surprise on his face. “I might not tell her I saw two Assaultrons feeding the pigs.”

“Also there's a Sentry bot in the workshop.” Rosie chipped in. “Don’t worry, it’s shut down. For now.”

“Here Frank.” John put a double whiskey in his hand and he threw it back.

“Hello again, Miss Janey.” Frank called over nervously, Janey facing away from him. Until she rotated her head backwards.

“Good evening Frank. Dinner will be ready in forty seven minutes.” Janey’s head turned back to her task.

“It, she, cooks dinner?” Frank asked in a half whisper.

“Only when she wants to.” Rosie’s answer didn’t seem to help. John poured him another drink.

Robco and Mike arrived then Rosie served dinner. Thick cuts of venison and fried tatos. Served where people sat in an informal manner. All while she retold the night’s events.

“Here, found this in my office.” Mike took a manilla folder from his bag. Rosie flicked it open seeing blank forms and almost squealed with delight. “You know you’re not supposed to enjoy the paperwork, right?”

“My own case file!” She resisted the urge to start filling the reports straight away. “Still needs a name though.”

“A Study in Blue.” Mike sat back and took another bite.

“A Study in Glue.” Rosie raised her eyebrow playfully, amused with herself.

“Terrible.” Mike’s groan settled it for her, and she wrote it across the folder.

They enjoyed a pleasant evening in their home, before Rosie and Frank left. Robco left shortly after, and John collapsed onto his bed.

“John.” Rosie woke him.

“What is it? His worry faded as she smiled.

“I sent Janey down to...We found this. I thought you might want to see it.” Rosie tapped on the old looking metal crate.

“What’s in it?” John rubbed the grime away from the etched tag. He read it twice to be sure. Clara Blake 2048 – 2129 Personal effects.