The former slave was skittish and panicking as I led him to my expedition. Poor thing. The boy must’ve been abused relentlessly to be this much of a wreck. It must be shellshock or at least something similar to it. I just hope Bill Calhoun bought a few psychiatrists. It seems to be in character for the Followers to soothe the trauma and pain, physical and mental, that Wastelanders often suffer from.
“So... What’s your name?” Oh course, he just tilted his head back. This is infuriating. I should’ve taken Joshua’s advice to learn their language. I could’ve easily done it with my +10 intelligence but there was so much to do as a leader of this expedition.
I also had to prepare my weekly radio meetings with President Tandi which took the most amount of my time. I didn’t want to disappoint the living legend. That would be a disaster since I needed her support for my future plans both here in the Grand Canyon and in building a water infrastructure across the NCR.
I bit my lips as I thought about that. Tandi warned me that I was making a lot of enemies. The Gun Runners already hate my guts evident by the fact there were a few bomb threats to my factories in the Boneyard. It was only thwarted by the combined help of Tandi and Director Peter von Dietel of the OSI. I guess Pappa’s connections to the military and Chancellor Farkas’ all-seeing eyes may have also helped, but Tandi didn’t bother to tell me about them. She always urged me to focus and make this project a success.
And now my plan to make a lot of chlorine to make water available to over seven hundred thousand New Californian citizens would greatly antagonise the Water Merchants. There were also disturbing rumours of the merchants colluding, and heaven’s forbid – actively getting involved with the underworld criminal syndicates of the Hub. That possible connection scared me, not for my life, but for the lives of my parents. They promised me that everything would be alright, but I can’t help worry about them.
It doesn’t help that I’m going to celebrate my first birthday without them.
The chittering and groan that sounded behind me took me by surprise. I turned around and was taken aback when the slave boy looked at me with fury in his eyes. He waved his arms about and patted his chest and repeatedly said, “Ridgedog,” like a broken clock. It must be his name, and quite weirdly understandable to an English speaker like me.
I soon got irritated by him saying his name over and over again so I grunted and positioned Bucephalus so it was facing him. “Okay! I get it! My name is Leon! Leon Frederik." At least that satisfied him. He must've been mad that I'd completely zoned him out. Sorry, 'Ridgedog’ but I had important things to think about rather than worrying about a lowly abused slave.
“Any who... It’s good you're no longer looking like a frightened puppy.” I said fully realising he couldn’t understand me and to dispel this unusual tension that radiated out of him. For a slave, he had an immense presence. He didn’t try to cower like the ones we’ve rescued in Needles and Fort Derrick but he sat, back straight, gaze not looking down but intensely lasered to me.
I would be lying if it didn’t bother me. It was unsettling. The sudden shift from being terrified to a cold calculating demeanour threw me off guard.
Hang on. How’d he get that pistol?
I heard a ‘hiya’ behind me and I saw just in time a stone club being swung towards my face. VATS automatically activated, no longer required to be directly turned on using a pipboy, I ducked.
The stone club passed me and hit Bucephalus' antlers, splintering it into thousands of razor-sharp pieces. How dare you break his antlers! You’ll pay for this, ‘Ridgedog’ or whatever your name is!
One of the fragments grazed my finger causing me to yelp, "Ow!" Right! I'll beat the living hell out of him after I prevent these purple shards from impaling me.
I grabbed a ceremonial wooden club and batted the shards away from me and Bucephalus. Looking at the devastation the fragments did to the club made me pause and whistle. It was a shame since that was personally gifted to me by the Kaibab Chieftain. Oh well.
From his gobsmacked expression and mouth agape, he did not expect me to survive that without substantial injuries. I winced as my finger stung and started to bleed. It hurt far worse than a normal paper cut. This is bloody hell. “That hurts. Care to explain why you’ve attacked me?” I said whilst cornering him between two large trees.
More garble later as he pleaded and cried. You destroyed Bucephalus’ fabulous antlers! And now you’re asking for mercy! The nerve of some people, honestly! “Can’t understand you! Now dismount!” I pointed my service rifle at him and then pointed at the ground.
Thankfully, he understood what I’ve asked of him. “Since you’ve been naughty, you’ll walk on foot till we arrive at the caravans.”
‘Ridgedog’ walked behind me, “Um what are you doing? Get in front! You’ve attacked me from behind, I’ll not make the same mistake twice.”
The rest of the journey back was uneventful which I was grateful for. In fact, I had a lot to be grateful for. Now that we've destroyed the vast majority of the Ridger army, I could easily annex Hermit’s Rest or Abyss Fortress as the natives would say.
For once in my journey across this forest, the traditions and customs of these tribals didn’t cause me a massive headache.
Again, I looked at my ‘prisoner’. Ridgedog didn’t walk and speak like an abused slave. Perhaps, he did at first. Then again, I did point my gun and fired it at him. He stood tall and proud. He had the demeanour of a leader. I shook my head. Can't be. It's impossible. These primitives respect strength, which a mere child couldn't possibly have.
Finally, I reached my convoy and a whole host of NCR troopers cheered and applauded me. The performer in me forced me to salute and wave to the crowd. “Thank you all for your confidence in me. Anyway, may I present you my new pet – Bucephalus. His antlers are missing but hopefully, he can grow that back.”
The civilians who weren’t part of the militia oo’ed and ahh’ed, mesmerised by the beast in front of them. They should’ve seen his antlers!
I dismounted when I saw a trooper handcuff my prisoner. Suddenly, a shadow formed behind me and felt my head being smashed. “Ow! Frank, why’d you do that?”
“You’re so used to me smackin’ you in the head that you know it's me." Frank wrapped his arms around my head and viciously rubbed my scalp. “That’s what you get. You know I was worried sick when you and that deer ran off into the forest, where more of ‘em could’ve picked you off! Are you mad kid!”
I nursed my bruised head and responded, “I knew what I was doing. Relax. My eyesight is much better than yours plus I had heat vision.” Speaking of it, I checked my rucksack and sighed in relief when the goggles weren’t damaged!
Frank rolled his eyes, pulled his hat to cover his face and screamed. “That eyesight of yours is simply inhuman. You shouldn’t be able to see over a kilometre away!”
“Yet I did. Bill’s experiment should’ve been convincing enough for your meathead of a brain.”
“Oh shut it, kid. Also, you’ve brought a prisoner who’s similar in age to you. What’s that about.”
“I thought he was a slave.”
“Not a slave. Far too arrogant to be one. I noticed him eying me up and I wanted to knock his teeth in.”
“Glad you noticed too, Frank. Once Joshua is finished commanding and training the militia, I’ll have him translate whatever he says.” I took out a carved stone tool with a handle coated with a lion's hide – frankly, it looked ornate and well done. "He swung at me with this. Whatever he is, he's important."
“And that’s why you shouldn’t be runnin’ off alone! Let me be a bodyguard, and actually let me protect you, for god’s sake.”
I was at fault, I’ll admit. “Will do, Frank. I’ll make sure to involve you when I’m doing something fun in the future.” I shot him a wry grin and said, “I’ll be going to Bill’s convoy for a headache. Because some brute attacked me in the head.”
“Whatever. Also, you didn’t say sorry.”
“I would’ve if you didn’t hit me in the head.”
As I got closer to Dr Bill Calhoun’s coach, I saw at least two dozen tribals laid out in a stretcher with people in white lab coats running back and forth like maniacs.
Not wanting to disturb the bee hive, I snuck my way to Bill’s coach. “Doc you here?”
“A bit busy, Leon, but I’m here.” Bill was preparing reagents, to dilute it into medicinal concoctions evident from the acrid smell that assaulted my nose.
“Making stimpacks?” I joked.
"I wish. But no. I'm making some antibacterial solutions that can be applied directly to the skin. Your troopers and militia wreaked havoc amongst the Ridger natives,” he said whilst shaking his head in disappointment.
“They were attacking us. I assure you it was all in the name of self-defence. And was a proportional response.”
Bill sighed as I saw him place a few tubes into a centrifugal machine. "You're starting to sound like a politician. That wasn't meant to offend you but just my personal observation.” Not so personal when you’ve said it, is it? “Right. How can I help you?”
I was originally supposed to see him for this cut but after seeing the carnage outside, perhaps that could wait. “Those patients of yours, they’re unconscious now but when they wake up, I fear they may not resist their base urges.”
“I appreciate your concern towards my colleagues, Leon. I truly do. But the Followers of the Apocalypse are idealists. That doesn’t mean we’re stupid. We have sedatives that will inhibit their fight and flight response which should make them less violent.”
“Excellent. I have one more request. Not as urgent. But can you check on my prisoner, please? I suspect he’s important.”
“I’ll have my physicians come attend the prisoner.”
“Thank you, doc.”
I exited out and tried to block out the smell emanating from the wounded Ridgers.
“Frank, I’ve been meaning to ask but where’s the deer meat? The cooks are cooking the same old as usual.”
My bodyguard's face twisted into something comical. "We've buried it away from 'ere. They stink! Some of the militia pan-fried it but it tasted so bitter. Even then, the meat was breaking down even when it was bein’ cooked.”
Interesting. An animal that decomposes that quickly was very rare. Plus, the purple antlers. And its meat is full of what seems like bitter compounds that would deter predators. It sounds like it was genetically engineered. At least, I think so. It would be neat to question those barbaric tribals on how they bred those deer.
I saw in the distance Joshua shouting at the recruits, he completely was red with a few veins popping out of him. “Next time you eat fauna, have the eggheads confirm that it’s actually edible! You idiots!”
Ah. They were getting chewed out. I couldn’t blame those recruits too. Even I thought they could be eaten. As soon as he was done, I beckoned him over. “I need you to come with me. There’s an important native that I want a few questions answered.”
I didn't wait for him to reply as I heel-turned towards my coach, where I directed the troopers to place ‘Ridgedog’. I entered it and was amused by how awestruck he was. He was busy looking at pictures of my family. He alternated and pointed at a painting of Shady Sands showcasing an automobile running with a few factories chugging out smoke in the background.
“That’s the capital city and where I’m from. Shady Sands. The centre of the New Californian Republic.”
Joshua translated that and when Ridgedog replied a little too emotionally, his response was translated word for word. "It’s beautiful. The landscape looks like a desert similar to the one surrounding the Abyss Fortress. But your village has many stone fortresses!”
“Those aren’t fortresses. Those are just homes.” Now that widened his eyes even further. “As it stands, Shady Sands’ denizens are probably four times larger than your entire tribe. Perhaps we even outnumber the population of the Grand Canyon or the Great Basin as you say.” I couldn’t help show off. I always felt patriotic pride when explaining about the NCR.
Anticipating more awe, the lad slumped depressed and sullen. “You are strong, yes? You’ve managed to subjugate the Kaibabs. What’s going to happen to the Ridgers?”
“And why would you want to know that, Ridgedog?”
“I’m the Chieftain of the Ridgers.” His back straightened, his gaze challenging mine. But I swore I saw some hints of resignation as if he was expecting something tragic.
“Well! As I suspected. Nice to meet you Chieftain. Hail to the Chief!” Ridgedog was surprised at being addressed like this. I asked him why.
“When another tribe subjugates the other, the Chieftain of the defeated tribe gets humiliated... And killed. Being respected is very unusual.”
That would explain why. However, the NCR was a civilised country. And all of us here have the mission to civilise this entire place. And make a lot of money in the process. But I must stress that making money was just the cherry on top from uplifting these primitives.
"You have nothing to worry about, Chieftain Ridgedog. The NCR has no interest in subjugation, only cooperation. To do that we need to be friends."
As if the entire world was lifted from the young boy, he audibly gulped then sighed. “Thank you! You don’t know how much of a relief that is. When I saw my men being cared for when normally they would’ve been sacrificed to the spirits, I knew you and your people were merciful. But I didn’t know if that mercy would extend to a Chieftain.”
“Joshua - accept his thanks.” The lad courteously nodded. “So, here’s what’s going to happen next. We’ll be marching to Abyss Fortress and will be making that our base of operations. Our outpost. You'll be instrumental in smoothening ruffled feathers, so to speak.”
When Joshua finished translating, the Ridger Chieftain stood up prompting Frank to forcibly seat him back down. “So, you’ll steal our land and my people? What exactly are you doing differently compared to the people of the Great Basin?”
“You’ll still be the Chieftain. You’ll still have authority, however with more checks and balances, on your tribe. After all, we’re going to be allies from now on.” I got to my desk and pulled a few pieces of paper out of the drawer. “Your land historically sits on the richest vein of metals like iron and copper. But there may be more. The records before the war are spotty at best. I just want my mines to be built, probably smelteries and bloomeries all I ask is for you to let us do that without any interruption.”
The Christian Preacher struggled to translate a few of the words but he got it down in the end. “You and your people want to venture down in the caves? Those are full of monsters. Are you crazy?”
Caves? Hang on. Could it be those pre-war mines he’s referring to? “Not crazy and not just my people. I want the Ridgers to play a greater role in directing my prospectors and miners where these ‘caves’ are located. They don’t need to go underground, but a little advice from your people would help.”
“You’ll unleash those monsters against us?”
"Did those monsters include those purple-antlered deer you and your warriors were riding?" I asked a little too excitedly. Not only were those ‘caves’ full of minerals but also a treasure trove of research materials. Were they one of the hundred or so vaults built by Vault-Tec?
The thought of Vault-Tec sent shivers down my spine. I've already encountered the sick experiment happening in Vault 36, Lord knows what other satan-spawned ideas those higher-ups in Vault-Tec planned.
Ridgedog pointed to a face that may have conveyed a sudden realisation. “It could be possible. The village shamans do tell of a legend that those elks came from beneath the soil.”
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That was enough to confirm my suspicions. Whatever treasure trove Hermit’s Rest was going show along with the twisted horrors that may be revealed as a result, I’ll make sure to line up in the front with a rifle in my hand. I felt my hand jitter but not out of fear but from sheer excitement.
“Your superstition regarding those caves is justified. However, do take into fact that we have the strength to protect you and your people.”
The young chieftain was ungraceful enough to show signs of being offended. Joshua shied away from me as he tried his best to translate what he just said, “He says they don’t need to be protected. That they’re not cowards.”
Despite having my hospitality spat on constantly, I actually smiled. His brass shamelessness and bravery were worthy of respect. “I can see that. Normally, people would avoid fighting people with guns after experiencing their lethal effects. You should've fled when we’ve gunned down forty of your troopers back in the Kaibab outpost.”
“We didn’t want to be subjugated. In spite of your wonder weapons, you and your En-see-ar tribe still outnumbers us. We had to hold you to this chokehold and stop you advancing further.”
I hummed and clicked my tongue and was satisfied when that put him on edge. "Anyways, we're wasting time. I need your answer. Are you with us or not?”
Ridgedog’s eyes squinted as he squirmed and fidgeted. Gone was his leader persona, and back to the boy he truly was – the exact same mannerism that made me think he was an abused slave, forced to fight for the Ridgers. The sudden shift nearly caught me off guard, but I steeled myself since the last time this happened, he nearly killed me with an axe!
“One more question. What’s your plan with our lands other than unleashing foul creatures of the dark, that should be kept underground.”
“If you meant for the land above ground, I promise you that it will bloom! Shady Sands, my people and especially the Boneyard School of Agriculture have been breeding draught and heat-resistant strains of wheat and other farmable grain. I promise you and your people, that hunger will be a thing of the past.”
Ridgedog eyed me with a sceptical look which was another tick for his competence. “How do I know I can trust you? And, in a world where I’m a fool and believe everything you said, what if you fail to deliver that promise?”
“First of all, that’s two questions but I feel nice today and answer both.” I imperiously shot him a smirk causing Joshua to shake his head as he reluctantly translated that. “You’ll just have to see if I can deliver my promise. And, even if the Hermit’s Rest or Abyss Fortress is lacking any arable lands, then I’ve secured a deal with the Kaibabs where they’ll send us their grain. From there we can make bread.”
Maybe it was a little cruel talking about bread since hunter and gatherer societies often don’t have the technology to even make bread, hence grain was utterly lacking in their diet. Ridgedog’s look of confusion only fuelled my mischievous humour. This must be the first time I’ve had childish fun since Julie. Dare I say it, I missed that Spitfire.
“Bread is a miracle food. You’ll enjoy it.”
“Are you sure you didn’t enslave the Kaibabs?”
I pulled the latch to my window causing it to open and pointed at the barely clothed tribals with yellow face paint plastered on their red face. “Feel free to ask them if they’re enslaved.”
That was enough to convince him that I meant no danger and treachery. It helped that I genuinely wanted to improve the living conditions of him and his people.
The trek to Hermit’s Rest was significantly faster now that we have Ridgedog and a few of his injured men to guide us through perilous paths.
I leaned over my coach, just outside my window and regretted it almost immediately, as I stared at a sudden sharp drop towards the basin. One word just jumped out in my head. Roads. ROADS! Wider roads! This was unacceptable. I can’t have my employees shipping ores and metal on these rickety pathways. The bridge in Needles was bad enough but this path was downright suicidal for any caravans.
It was a miracle, no one has fallen to their deaths yet.
The journey continued on with only one minor conflict between the Kaibabs and the surviving Ridgers. A few juvenile insults were thrown at each other, forcing me to order my NCR troopers to keep those savages civil and orderly.
The inter-tribal rivalry was going to be a pain to deal with. My plan for the Grand Canyon and its seven tribes consisting of uniting them under one banner, was going to take time. I took out my notebook and relegated this plan to 'long term' - a polite farce I’ve invented to put ideas on a backburner without making myself disappointed from the lack of results. But I wasn’t letting this one be on the backburner.
A knock at my coach, caught my attention as I bade whoever to enter.
I saw Lieutenant Jeff Simmons with his tommy helmet by his side standing with his back straight. “At ease, Lieutenant. And have a seat." I clasped my hands, looking as authoritative as I could. "Do you have a plan to ease the tension between the two tribes?"
“I’ve had my troopers protect the recovering Ridger warriors. I’ve also made the Kaibabs busy by having my rangers take them out to outings. Several people are still missing and at least four dozen women missing from that raid, including Sergeant Rita Mularkey. Day in and day out full of scoutings, and we’ve yet to find them all.”
It would be cherry on top if we managed to find those women. Hopefully, that should keep the Kaibabs happy enough not to rape and raze the Ridger village to the ground. “Good. Continue doing an amazing job. However, I didn’t summon you here for an update. I want you to develop an apprenticeship scheme.”
“Sir?” He was rightfully confused.
“My extensive talks with Ridgedog gave me quite a few insights into their tribe. They just had a devastating civil war. That I can deduce from the lad’s arrogant boasting. There must be a lot of orphans. I want you and your men to mop those orphans up and trained and educated as cadets. Is that possible?”
“I-It is an interesting policy to follow, Mr Frederik. I can only fully support it since it would address our long-term manpower problem.”
Whew! Hang on. Stop. "I'm not addressing a manpower problem, Lieutenant. I assure you more people will come. What I want is for the future generation of the Ridgers to consider themselves as NCR citizen first and Ridger very distant second.”
Jeff was slightly taken aback by that but was professional enough to hide his emotion. "You aim to peacefully integrate the Ridgers?"
“Amongst one in seven, yes.”
“Brilliant, sir. You have my full backing. You’ve led us this far, I can’t wait to see your plans come to fruition.”
“I’ve already come up with a name, the ‘Confederacy of the Grand Canyon’. It has a certain twang don’t you think?”
Frank scoffed making me do a full hundred eighty turn to glower at him. Stop messing about you traitor! You’re making me look stupid in front of my chief commander! It only irritated me more seeing him smirk – making that scar obvious and visible.
“Why a confederacy?” Simmon’s asked.
"Because unifying them into one unitary state will be impossible regarding how far away they live from each ither. This state will solely rely on the NCR. Perhaps, in my lifetime they'll even vote to become NCR citizens.”
“You already have the Kaibabs under your thumbs and very soon the Ridgers too. I'm sure it'll be easier to unite the other five. There are already talks amongst my rangers and ordinary troopers to prosecute a war against the Fredonians up north. It should save us the hassle of being raided by them in the future.”
I took out a pre-war map of the Grand Canyon and asked the Lieutenant to be more specific about where north was. "I'm afraid I cannot answer that question, sir. But we should be able to pry that information from this Lady Chaz, who apparently leads their scouting force.”
“Even if this lady can help, I’m afraid it won’t be much,” I pessimistically said. “They’ll likely to roam around the Colorado River up north where the waters aren't too deep. They will know the hidden paths and if we send a force against them, I fear that they'll just slink away and hide in the mountains."
I was intrigued when I saw Jeff smile as he said, “Way ahead of you, sir. I’ve managed to gauge the enthusiasm of our Ridger prisoners and they’re more than happy to help us as auxiliaries. They’ve been fighting the Fredonians for decades, they should be able to provide insights in countering the Fredonians.”
“Wonderful news. However, I’m sensing a ‘but’. Does that include them stealing and raping Fredonian women? Perhaps a raid?”
The Lieutenant’s muscles froze as he bit the side of his cheeks, “Unfortunately, sir.”
“With time, we’ll wean these savages off their barbaric culture and base instincts. In fact, I already have a plan ready to be reviewed by you. It involves taking this Abyss Fortress using only NCR citizens. That should deprive the Kaibab warriors from committing atrocities.”
He took the parchment detailing a multi-pronged assault against the fortress only for it to be useless as I stood, mouth agape, beheld the wooden entrance of the Fortress full of women fighters kowtowing before us. A telltale sign of surrender.
“Frank, those fighters... Are they women?”
“Looks like it. Their hips are wider and slightly distended upper chest -”
"Alright, enough. But I thought these tribals didn't employ women as soldiers? Strange.”
Joshua came behind us and said, “That’s because their scouts. They work for an Elder called Lady ‘Chaz’. They must’ve expected us and anticipated our benevolence. Or at least I hope so.” The Christian missionary beamed me a stare so powerful; that it may as well cut a hole through me.
"Fret not, Joshua. The NCR accepts surrenders and humane treatment of prisoners of war is enshrined in our laws. You should see the former Derrick raiders, now model New Californian citizens.” I beckoned Jeff Simmons over. “However, we are also pragmatic and we are aware of perfidy. So, I want you and the militia and the Lieutenant, over here, to work together and comb through all of them and make sure they’re fully disarmed.”
As I saw a yellow-streaked tribal, I double-backed, "Joshua, I want you to delegate that task I've asked of you. I want you to come with me and translate what I have to say to the leader of the Kaibab expedition. And, Simmons, I want your biggest troopers on the double.”
A little intimidation I feel wasn’t too much of an overkill since I may be reneging on the Kaibab’s initial deal.
I was standing in front of a young man with sun-battered skin that threatened to peel off, only held by yellow and green paint that coated his skin like a tattoo. His hat – or warbonnets, as they say, was swaying every time there was a gust of wind looking like it was going to fall at any time.
“Joshua, start off the conversation as an ordinary and boring diplomatic exchange.”
The pleasantries weren’t enough to stave off the hostility that came off him as he responded, “Enough of this farce! Why are you having your men block us from our spirits given right!”
“The initial agreement between me and your cousin, the Chieftain, says that in the event of a raid, you can take a pick of what ladies you want.” I lazily waved my hands over to the assembled warrior ladies, “This doesn’t look like a raid, don’t you agree?”
“Mere semantics! We’ve come all the way here only to be betrayed at the very last second!”
“Trust me, if we wanted to betray you, we would’ve lined you up and shot you already.” Joshua gulped a little too loudly as he turned to face me. “Well? What are you waiting for? Translate it. He needs to be reminded of our strength and deadly arsenal, should it ever come to it. I must admit I showed them the carrot far too much when I should be waving the stick – and swinging it in their direction."
His brief but fearful recoil at that made me powerful. It was an intoxicating experience that I had to bottle as much as possible since power corrupts, absolutely. I didn't want this to be a self-fulfilling prophecy of me becoming a tyrant.
“It’s good that you understand the predicament you’re currently in.”
“We didn’t come here to be threatened, boy!” He growled. “If all you’re going to do is to back off from our agreement, then I don’t see how our cooperation can last. We’re leaving.”
I forced myself to smirk as I knew I had him. "Oh dear, Leader Phautu. Are you leaving empty-handed then? Think of the disastrous consequence to your reputation." Researching their uncouth culture was a very good idea. I’ve learnt about potential minefields that I had to avoid at risk of heavily offending them and, certain aspects of their society and culture that I can exploit to my advantage.
“What choice do we have? You’re denying us our culture at the point of using your wondrous weapons too.”
“You seem to forget the dozens of girls and women that were kidnapped during the raid.”
The Kaibab war leader stood up and pointed his clenched fist at me. “They’re all lost! The forest has taken them. We could've still rescued them had you allowed us to torture those damn desert bastards.”
I ignored his last statement and lasered my focus to what he said first. “What do you mean they’re lost? I’m sure they can still be found.”
“The forest is full of monsters and curses.” He then went on a rant about mythical beasts that I’ve discounted as nonsense superstition.
But superstition still had hints of truth. His descriptions of monsters and curses remind me of mutated animals that are more frequent in highly irradiated areas. My pipboy’s geiger counter played an instrumental part in navigating through the forest where there were less radiated or 'curses' as the tribals would say.
This wasn’t good. I hoped to dangle the prize of finding the woman in front of the War-Leader Phautu but from his descriptions of what the forests are like, then it’s more likely that they were truly lost. I had wanted their warriors as potential auxiliaries or hostages against the Kaibabs. But we couldn’t detain forty people without dedicating immense amount of resources.
“The deeper one gets to the forest, the thicker the leaves get and the higher the trees go. Eventually, you’ll be in complete darkness not knowing what's right and left. As much as I grieve their loss, I cannot risk my men further. They've already accompanied your 'Rangers' and they've found nothing."
I lightly bit my lips as I thought of options to reel the Kaibabs and in the end, I got nothing. No more logic just faith. Faith in Winnemucca who went scouting a few days ago and hasn’t gotten back since. Hopefully, he managed to find those poor women and Sergeant Rita and ditched his nonsense of a religion.
“How about fighting against the Fredonians?” More manpower to supplement ours since getting reinforcements from California would take months.
He harrumphed as he looked at me with surprise and amusement. “What benefit would that be? You’ll only restrict us and stop us from practicing our culture. Our tradition.”
I felt my head start to rupture from exasperation. The Chieftain of the Kaibabs struck me as a progressive one. What if these warriors were the most conservative and traditionalists of the lot, that he just pawned them to me. It was a masterful stroke of political genius and cunning – I begrudgingly admitted. It hit two birds with one stone; placating us and removing his political opponents.
But I felt there was an opportunity so not all is lost. “Are you even wanted back?”
“What do you mean?”
I read every detail of his expression, the way he breathed and the way his eyes slightly widened. As if a sudden realisation was dawning on him. “Does your Chieftain even want you back? Last I heard, he plotted with me to arrange all your deaths.” I lied. I was impressed Joshua translated it word for word without any signs of hesitation or complaints.
“Just as I suspected. I had an inkling of his plan when you suggested my warriors to accompany your rangers. Deep in my mind, I was expecting them to be dead, either executed by your wondrous weapons or gorged by a six-legged boar.”
Six-legged boar? How cool is that! How come we didn’t see any of that in our journey? A-hem. Back to reality, please, Leon.
“I’m curious, though. What changed? Why have you spared our lives? You know my stance. You know I will challenge you encroaching on our traditions.”
“You are more than welcome to keep your traditions. I just want some parts of it to change to respect the individual’s right to consent. It may take you a while to realise this, but our laws our benevolent and all-encompassing. In time, I hope you’ll fully adhere to it.”
He scoffed and said something unintelligible yet I understood it. He gave me a respectful nod and left with a look of incredulity.
“Phautu said he doubts it,” Joshua translated whilst sighing.
“I’m pretty sure he said something far more vulgar than you're letting on. Though, I’m curious why you became complicit with my lie. Not a very Christian thing for me to do. After all, God told us not to bear false witness.”
The Missionary paused, grunted something out but was unable to speak what he originally thought of. Such indecisiveness was unusual for a military man like Joshua Graham.
“As much as I preach against sin, I sin myself. I can’t help it. Sometimes to do what’s right is to sin.” I tilted my head in confusion and waved for him to continue. “Similar to what you’ve just done. You’ve lied so they won’t come back and hinder your progress with Chieftain Adalax of the Kaibabs. By lying, you’ve emboldened the reformists which will only lead to a peaceful world with fewer rape and violence.”
A pragmatist who sometimes sacrifices his principles to achieve something greater. The more I got to know Joshua, the more I liked him. “Well. That was great to hear. Let’s embolden more reformists, shall we?”
From my meetings with Ridgedog, I learnt that he was ambitious – though I couldn’t determine the length and breadth of his visions. I also learnt that he was a little too dense. The moron thought that the scouts working for Lady Chaz were men.
Speaking of her, the lady sat across over a campfire in a roomy and well-carpeted tent. “Joshua, thank her for the hospitality.”
“She’s saying why you didn’t take the Abyss Fortress as your residency.”
Because it was that close to falling into the Abyss. I enjoyed living. I still had to be tactful and couldn't say. Offending these people would be a horrible start to a productive partnership and cooperation. “Tell her that I respect their ways. The Abyss Fortress belongs to the Chieftain.”
She shot me a withering stare. “You could be the Chieftain. What’s stopping you?”
“I promised and guaranteed Chieftain Ridgedog. I will not backtrack from my ironclad word.”
“But why him?”
“Who else but him? He is your legitimate leader.”
“Me. I control nearly all of the Ridger Warriors. All thanks to you killing two-thirds of Ridgedog’s warband.”
I smiled but felt like banging my head on the floor. I wasn’t even here for a day and I’m already drowning in intrigue and treason. “Chieftain Ridgedog is the leader of the Ridgers. End of story.” I said with as much force my prepubescent voice could muster.
She shook her head and was about to stand up when I halted her when I sensed an opportunity. “Sit back down. I’m not the one for wasted time and meetings. Let’s make this productive, shall we?”
I was pleased that I had her attention. Even more chuffed when she agreed to be loyal only to me in exchange for her scouts to train alongside Jeff Simmon's troopers. I also threw Joshua's militia as an extra bargaining chip to sway her further into my camp.
It was a good backup plan to strengthen her position, just in case Ridgedog proved a liability or flat-out betrayed me. Divide and conquer they say. And so, I did.
However, I wasn’t here to conquer. I was here to mine as much ores as humanly possible.
Prospectors streamed out from the village accompanied by Ridger companions that would lead them to abandoned mines.
The first iron and copper mines were found this way. The natives reported no ‘ill omens’ regarding those mines and so I ordered the mines to be recommissioned as quickly as possible.
Rail tracks were quick to be built and, in some places, repaired back to pre-war conditions. Trade with the Kaibabs yielded both wood and grain. The wood was soon used to either make charcoal or homes for the miners.
More wood was needed to build supports to stop a cave in which I was thankful nothing of that sort happened.
The ores kept piling up and up and one of the enterprising miners built an induction furnace using a motor to conduct electricity to power it. We hit a few stand-stills but in the end, we got through them by using metals, melted from primitive bloomeries, to build a sturdy copper-alloy coil allowing a stronger magnetic field, and therefore increasing the temperature of the furnace.
After a few attempts, it worked and we were officially making steel.
It was a little disappointing that the first two mines ran out of visible ores and therefore had to be expanded. Scavenged metal detectors were useful in identifying large veins of copper and iron. We just needed to blow everything in the way to get them. This is where Frederik's Chemical's dynamites came into play.
Our explosives were cleaner, more powerful and less likely to stink of brahmin poop. Yes, poop. Unscrupulous manufacturers made the nitrates out of faeces and to cut costs, they removed a few steps to refine their explosives.
I was grateful for their stinginess since I was able to hoover a lot of customers due to their lack of diligence.
Progress was also being made in the agricultural field. The basin south of Hermit’s Rest had a ravine supplying clean and unirradiated water. A shoddy aqueduct was made to redirect water upstream, powered by motor pumps. After a week of water saturating the ground, it was fit enough to be planted with wheat.
Four months went by quick as I savoured the golden view in front of me.