Interlude – Aaron I
Life was hard as a son of a farmer. Made more difficult being one of six children. As the eldest of the children and the responsibilities and burden that came with it, only made life more strenuous. Aaron doesn’t know how he managed to cope with the stress of looking after his younger siblings and ploughing the fields at the same time.
Their fields weren’t the most fertile, nor were the Kimballs a well-off family. Their family had to pay excruciating amounts of dollars to the water merchants just so they could irrigate their farmlands, and prevent their hard-grown crops from withering away.
Some mercies do exist, they only lived a couple of miles away from the Hub – where a massive water purification that pumped out hundreds of kilolitres of water a day. Selling it as far as Arroyo, barely staving off their drought and as far as Imperial Valley. Baja was considered too risky for the water merchants to venture into.
Because of the distance, Aaron’s father was able to secure a reliable source of water that didn’t require a few kidneys to remove for money. A small consolation, but he was still grateful for, nonetheless. If only they were lucky enough to have a plot of land above a decent sized aquifer, but there was no use thinking of ‘ifs’ and other utopic alternatives.
He was given a life, though he didn’t have much, and damn if he’s going to mope around and do nothing to change his station. Aaron had huge ambitions. He doesn’t want to be stuck on a farm just outside the Hub. Travelling the world, fighting off enemies of his country and finally making the New Californian Republic work for him and many others.
To make this Republic for the many, not the few. One way of achieving his lofty goals was to enrol in the military. Even then he faced unsurmountable obstacles when he learnt about the tuition fee.
And as the saying goes in his literary classes, when it rains it pours. As soon as he learnt he couldn’t afford tertiary education, their fields were getting infertile leading to fewer and fewer bushels of barley and rye being grown. Yes – his family were too poor to buy wheat seeds and had to make do with cheaper crops like barley and rye.
He worked day and night – toiling under the sun planting seeds and continuing his studies in high school. Despite the adversity, Aaron Kimball is not one to despair. His boundless optimism for the future and rigid resiliency pushed him through the hardest part of his life.
In the end, it all worked out. He got top grades in high school and was given the honour of being a valedictorian. Military recruiters from up and down the country hunted him to offer a place in their academies.
His dream of entering the Maxson Military Academy was within reach. An academy enriched by agreements between the NCR and the Shi of San Francisco. The transfer of pre-war tactics salvaged from terminals of their ancient submarine has made many successful commanders, including General Alexander Drummond. That was what Aaron needed.
As if the world was conspiring against him, his father needed all hands on deck farming lest all his siblings starve. It pained him to reject their offer and settle with the local academy in the Hub.
Aaron Kimball was about to mail his rejection letter when he heard a newspaper boy hollering. “Papers, papers! Miracle blue powder as fertiliser! Boy Genius creates another GECK!” That set Aaron’s ears as he stormed towards the boy. He loomed over making him shiver in fear.
“How much for a paper?!”
“O-one dollar, s-sir!”
Recoiling at the absurd price – Aaron replied, "Excuse me, what?! Newspaper normally costs ten cents! What's with this price gouging?!"
“S-sorry, sir. Daily Press of the Hub, told me to sell it for this much. They said it was breaking news.” Aaron didn’t realise how much the paper boy was quaking in fear as he forked over a dollar bill.
"Greedy bastards. Fine, have it their way." He took the paper with a huff, scanned for the nearest coffee shop and started to read. The more he progressed, the more hope swelled in his chest – until he saw the price for twenty kilos of the ‘NPK fertiliser’. He slammed the paper so hard into the table, it almost spilled his coffee. Fifteen dollars for only 20 kilos! That’ll only cover a third of an acre!
Aaron then scribbled a few calculations on an unused napkin. Father and mother own nearly thirty acres of barely arable land. According to this newspaper, about sixty kilos are needed for an acre to have a desirable effect. He felt his heart start to beat as he computed the final calculation whilst ignoring the heavy and forceful thumping of his chest. So, eighteen hundred kilos of this stuff are needed for a full harvest, w-which means it'll cost thirteen hundred and fifty dollars.
This was extremely inconvenient. Aaron was indeed stuck between a rock and a hard place, once again. They didn’t have that much money and even if they did, his father, risk adverse as he is, would insist on paying for irrigation a few months in advance.
He cycled hard towards their land and told his father the news.
“Bullshit! Increases harvest by at least four times! Who actually will fall for this?” The father pointed his sunburnt arm towards Aaron, "You're a smart lad! Top of your class! And you fall for this – this chicanery!”
“Studies from the Boneyard University’s School of Agricultural Science and first witness testimonials from fellow farmers have validated the results, sir,” Aaron was careful not to mention the farmers were Brahmin barons.
Aaron was pleased that his father, at the very least, considered what he said. He saw him tapping the table with greater and greater frequency, “Right. We’ll test this.” He got up and opened a safe box and took out two - hundred dollar bills, and one – fifty dollar bill, “This should be enough for five acres and a bit.”
“But, father, shouldn’t we buy enough for thirty acres?”
"Are you daft, lad! That's about fourteen hundred dollars! We don't have that much money!"
“Think about it, father, please,” Aaron pleaded. “With this fertiliser, we’re set to make about forty-five bushels of wheat per acre! Compared to only ten bushels we were getting last fall.”
“Get on with your point!”
“With thirty acres, we’re set to make over thirteen hundred bushels of wheat. The current market price of wheat is eleven dollars per bushel. If we sold it, we'd be fifteen thousand dollars richer! We'll be set to make a profit of about thirteen thousand dollars!”
"If it works. I'm not gambling that much money on things that I haven't personally seen with my own two eyes."
Why must you be so stubborn, father? Where is Mamma, anyway? "Not many people think like you, sir. Many will buy this in droves, making so much wheat, and driving the price down! We need to strike whilst the hammer is hot!”
His father barked a laugh, barely holding himself up on a chair. "Boy, you're forgetting something. We don't have the money to buy wheat seeds!"
It was time for Aaron to smile just as he pulled out an acceptance letter from Maxson Military Academy. He made sure to pull out the correct letter, carefully avoiding his rejection statement. "I'd been given a scholarly bursary of three thousand dollars a year! If I accept this, I'll buy the wheat seeds with my own money.”
He saw his father drop his stern gaze, the ever present frown completely gone as he stood up and hugged his son. “Boy, I’m proud of you. But all the way to Maxson?” He said whilst slapping Aaron’s shoulders. “I’ll be missing this muscle in the field. But don’t you worry about us. If you give us the wheat seeds, we’ll endure. Your mother and I, your siblings will make sure this house is still running for you to get back.”
Aaron felt his eyes tear up as he returned the hug with a little force. “I’ll make you all proud. I’m sure Eric will be a fine replacement. He’s getting a bit too chubby.”
"Oy, watch it. That's your younger brother, you're talking about. And just like you, he's busy with schoolwork."
Looking suitably chastised, Aaron bought enough wheat seeds and fertilisers for thirty acres. He felt sweat run down his back yet he ignored it and continued to load the goods into a cart, hitched to his father’s tractor.
Aaron directed his siblings, who all finished their school, to scatter the fertiliser across their fields. After that, his father powered up a tractor and pulled a seeding drill, planting hundreds of wheat seeds in minutes.
Trusting in the science, Aaron was confident this would yield nearly fourteen hundred bushels of wheat in four months. Fall came quick and during that time their nearly barren fields were blooming a golden colour, populated with bountiful wheat!
With a combine harvester, the wheat was scythed and rolled then shipped to be sold to the grain market as soon as possible. Time was of the essence, they had to sell their harvest before the price of wheat fell.
Aaron patted his back on a job well done when they sold it all for a tidy sum of sixteen thousand dollars. A thousand dollars more than he expected! With capital like that, Aaron was comfortable leaving his family. There was no fanfare, just as Aaron preferred, perhaps a few hugs and words of encouragement and just like that he was off to something greater.
The train travelled past Lost Hills fortress and he was awed by a few airships escorted by dozens of vertibirds. He felt giddy and optimistic. With the way the NCR is progressing, we'll have the same technology in just a few decades. Perhaps, I’ll even command a fleet greater than this in the future.
An announcement blared across the carriage interrupting his thoughts. “Raiders across the tracks. Passengers, please brace for impact. Remain calm as our security deals with them.”
How typical of raiders. Targeting a train full of military recruits. How stupid can they get? Aaron Kimball clicked his tongue and cradled his hunting rifle then assumed position. He felt the world lurch forward as the train screeched to a halt. A ring of gunfire sounded in front of the train as security came out of the doors like a bee hive under attack.
Not wanting to dally on, he along with eager volunteers joined the security and started to fire. They were met with a hail of gunfire and raiders coked up in psycho. One of them, with bloodshot eyes and blood vessels bulging out, ran up to one of the security personnel and cut him in half, groin to head, with a chainsaw. This demoralised and disorganised the militia and security causing a few to flee.
Noticing the situation had gone from bad to worse, Aaron took up the responsibility of leadership and assumed command. "Rally to me!" He had to manhandle a few of the retreating militia to get his point across. He kicked open a container door and ordered the people under his command to hide behind it for cover. “Aim for their knees! Can’t run and chainsaw us in half if their legs can’t function!”
He reloaded his rifle, aimed and shot then gleefully smirked as the psycho-addicted raider crumpled and landed, face first, into dirt. Surveying the situation, he nodded in satisfaction as the battle was turning in their favour.
Aaron looked out in the distance and saw a soldier, and from the way he held himself and the hat he was wearing, Kimball thought he was a ranger hiding behind a boulder – out of sight. Sniffing an opportunity for a rapid victory, he led his troopers where the ranger was and outflanked the raiders.
None of the criminals ended up surviving after their unfortunate raid. It’s a shame too considering they may have held a lot of intel regarding where their base is located.
The Ranger nodded to him and as if the stars lined up, for once in Aaron’s life, he ended up as his instructor.
Aaron was quickly promoted to a course for potential officers, and he proved to his superiors that he excelled in command. Leading his squadron in victory against many teams in mock battles. Mirroring his success at the High School of Hub, he came top of his class – being the best of the very best. A top officer destined for a greater role in the New Californian Republic Armed Forces.
In his graduation, his family of five siblings clapped and cheered him on which made the dam of tears harder and harder to hold back. He didn’t want to wail. Many important generals and commanders attended this graduation ceremony, General Alexander Drummond, Chief Ranger Hanlon, and Governor-General Mossman – the embarrassment will be immense.
He did his speech, echoing his undying loyalty and patriotism to a great project – the continual prosperity and advancement of the Republic!
It was a few weeks after he graduated that he was given a new role. An expedition, even President Tandi the Great has given her special attention on. He couldn’t refuse. He felt honoured to be given this special role. Sure, he would be in the middle of nowhere, likely pacifying primitive tribals and away from his family, but the chances of progression, if he did a good job, were too good to pass up on.
He had a painful first meeting with the person Tandi assigned as the leader of the expedition. A young man, of a similar age to him, with a tuff of blonde hair and so far, Aaron wasn't impressed. This Edward Sallows fellow had his head high up in the clouds. Dictating and uncompromising in his self-righteous beliefs about uplifting savages and expecting others to congratulate him.
The narcissist had the gall to lecture him on the 'great importance' of this expedition and demanded obedience. Yes, obedience. Not partnership. Not mutual cooperation. Of course, Aaron Kimball - not one to be insubordinate and disobey direct orders from President Tandi, agreed to his demands with a rictus snarl.
Begrudgingly, Aaron had to admit the man seemed to gravitate people towards him. People who knew no better. People who didn't realise the snake that he is.
No one noticed how much he scowled at President Tandi. Sure, he was smart enough to hide it as quickly as he bared his fangs, but once you see it – you cannot unsee it. This man was a future traitor. He didn’t have the evidence, but this man despised what the NCR stands for.
And when it rains it pours – not only was the blonde a potential traitor, but he also lacked any strategic sense. He was stupid enough to ignore a corrupt Marshall who governed a territory, sitting on top of a road, leading directly towards Flagstaff. It only reinforced his point that Sallows did not intend to be reliant on the NCR. Instead, he sought a personal kingdom based on autarky, completely forgoing all the benefits that trade with the NCR would rapidly increase the development of the outpost. Perhaps, that was what he intended. To limit his troopers' supply and slowly replace Aaron's soldiers with savages and tribals that Sallows was disturbingly fond of.
This expedition was going to test his patience and eventually, he’ll just explode causing him to endanger his own life. This nearly happened at the entrance of Needles fortress. Aaron was keen to gun down that corrupt zombie where it stood. It would’ve been a catastrophic mistake since he had many more of his necrotic goons sat on top of their towers that could snipe him and his lads.
Thankfully, they were saved by a child yelling that evaporated all the tension away.
Aaron squirmed and cringed when he thought back to Leon. He embarrassed himself. And for a few hours, he nearly drowned in shame. His prejudice against the rich, the Brahmin barons and the wealthy blinded him.
Aaron thought he was just a rich and spoiled kid who tagged along to score brownie points with the Mother of the Nation - most likely at the beckoning of his power-hungry parents.
Oh, how wrong he was. The ten-year-old boy radiated with certainty, common sense and intelligence. It shouldn't be much of a surprise since he was the one who thought of a process that made fertilisers from thin air! Fertilisers that saved his family from financial ruin.
Leon certainly was cut above from normal people around his age. Aaron snickered thinking back to his younger siblings, Mary, Beth and Joseph. Those hellions are probably breaking the farm.
The Frederik family was probably swimming in money yet the lad didn’t once show off. Always appearing meek and humble which was a stark contrast to his damnable best friend.
The boy even volunteered to gather intel in the town and succeeded beyond imagination by providing evidence that finally put the nail in Marshall Sloan’s coffin. Not only that, he also gave accurate intel about the number of slavers the necrotic ghoul employed ultimately leading to their destruction.
The boy showed courage and valour. If only the cowardly leader showed much the same – preferring to wait on reinforcements. Bloody pathetic. Aaron Kimball is a law-abiding officer of the Republic, he will not mutiny. He felt generous and provided the blonde pacifist with one more straw.
The last straw was quick to be plucked and hurled at his face along with spittle, as Edward ordered him to split his forces apart and abandon their war materiel. Once more, proving his point that Sallows was weakening the NCR expeditionary force. Sallows was good at concealing his dastardly scheme, citing the lack of brahmins to pull them but he knew better. He knew he was planning to recruit savages to his cause and steal their munitions, it was all unravelling in front of Aaron.
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He was about to pull out his gun, then and there, and perform an arrest but was stopped by Leon.
Leon and a red-skinned tribal who followed him with awe on his face suggested to attack the Derrick base and ‘requisition’ their brahmins and other beasts of burden. It was brilliant. The tribal who shall be named Winnie, since Aaron struggled to pronounce his full name, confirmed his competence by escorting his troopers to their base and leading them to storm their fortress.
Once all this is done, he'll arrest that fool. If only, but somehow Leon and his freak of a bodyguard found out his intentions. He could count how many officers he confided his plans for a coup with one hand. He was betrayed.
For once in his life, Aaron felt like a cornered beast pleading for mercy. He tempted to call out his men guarding his tent, but he wasn’t sure about their loyalty.
He should have expected this. The Frederiks were very close to the Armed Forces. What's stopping them from planting soldiers and officers loyal to them for this expedition? Absolutely nothing. They had the reputation with their fertilisers, the influence with how widely networked they were and the money to simply buy the loyalty of his boys and girls.
Slumping his shoulders he mentally waved his career goodbye. It was much sooner than he expected. He thought it'd come later after getting rid of that deathclaw-spawn by painting his blonde hair with blood and brain matter.
But the boy genius extended an olive branch and decided not to press charges against him. He could've easily done it. Most of the people in the expedition were paid by the Frederiks and unfortunately, he suspected that also included the expeditionary force under his command.
Leon showing his valour and courage decided to join Winnie and stormed the Derrick Fortress.
It would be convenient for him and his cowboy lackey to die, then and there. He felt guilt worm its way inside him. It was not honourable to wish for a boy’s death. Especially, a boy who merited being a genius in both chemistry and military tactics.
So, once the gates were opened, he ordered his soldiers to leave their hastily built camp and storm the base. He wasn't letting a valuable asset to the Republic die anytime soon. Despite the amount of blackmail material Leon Frederik had on him, he wasn't going to let him die on his watch.
In just a span of an hour, the base was successfully stormed and an enormous swarm of cazadors batted off. Thanks to the proximity fuse the artillery regiment used for their mortars and Leon. Another mystery is how a ten-year-old can aim and shoot that many cazadors down with an anti-materiel rifle. This was a world where people could turn into a blue mutant capable of producing lethal radiation lasers, what's preventing Leon from being another monster? Heh. That’s unlikely, Aaron thought and dismissed it.
“We’ll have to continue our conversation about the future back in the convoy, Captain. We’ll do it out of earshot from my friend. I’ll give you that small mercy. Just don’t abuse it in the future.”
From the way he saw Leon shoot down dozens of mutant insects, he wasn't planning to betray him anytime soon, if ever!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I decided in the end not to report Captain Aaron Kimball to President Tandi. The man was a sincere patriot who unfortunately pointed his gun at his mentor and friend. That wasn’t acceptable.
Till now, I felt uncomfortable consorting with him since it felt like I was betraying Ed. However, pragmatism won out in the end.
“Since we don’t have swarms of murderous cazadors and raiders, we can finally continue what we’ve started back in that camp.”
"Joy, indeed. Where's your shadow?"
Shadow? Rather a queer term for Frank, “He’s busy elsewhere.” Busy with maintaining work relationships with his informants. It was strange how most of them were women. Mamma does seem more devious and ruthless than Pappa. Perhaps, there’s a merit of who Frank decides to recruit. “Any who, that’s no matter. You’re a traitor. You know why I haven’t reported you yet?”
"Because we're under orders of radio silence and I've installed jammers across the convoy to maintain this. Even if you could, you wouldn't be able to." I was aware of this since it was necessary to evade attention from the Brotherhood of Steel, but does he know this is the case?
I smiled as I intertwined my fingers together and said, "There's always an exception." I took out my portable radio and dialled to the Oval Office. Once the radio operator responded, I apologised for my 'mistake'.
“Be more careful next time, Mr Frederik,” The radio operator said.
Aaron’s face turned an unhealthy shade of white, “You’ve made your point. Now what do you want?”
“It’s clear you’ll not respect Ed, both as a leader and a colleague. So, I have a proposal. Why don’t you be loyal to me?”
“I’m loyal to the Republic, her laws and her people.”
I turned on VATS and observed him for what seemed like a few hours. Scouring his facial features for any micromovements and hesitation. Nothing. Excellent, he’s sincere. “Rest assured, so am I. I'm asking you to follow my orders when we're on this expedition."
“Do you mean to bribe me? Just like you and your family did to many of my troopers?”
What on earth was he on about? “I’m ignorant of your accusations. My family and Frederik Chemicals have many miners and prospectors in this convoy in our employ. To my knowledge, none of the military are under our pay.”
“You don’t strike me as a liar, so I’ll believe you.” He hesitated and therefore was not entirely truthful.
“I have a dream, Captain Kimball. I’m willing to invest so much into this dream despite the risks associated. You know what I’m planning?” He shook his head. “I’m planning to make mines in the Grand Canyon. Copper and gold to make circuits. Circuits to make machines and herald in a golden technological age of the NCR!
“Now, will you help with that dream?”
Buzzcut’s brown pupils widened then he took a full breath, “Yes. I can help you. But don’t expect me to be loyal.”
That was fine by me. Loyalty will only come about in time, once I’ve fully turned my goals into reality. "We protect our own, Captain. You should see my workers in the Boneyard. I know you have a negative view of the rich, so allow me to dispel it. All you need to do is observe.”
Aaron Kimball nodded and moved to stand up but I motioned for him to sit back down. “We have more to get through. I need a proof of our cooperation.”
He gave me a frown whilst pursing his lips, “What proof do you want?”
“Where did you get those proximity fuses?”
“That information is classified and you're not cleared for it.”
Time for a hail Mary, “That’s a shame. The Director of the OSI, Peter von Dietel, is under my employ. He’s simply too busy with projects I’ve assigned him.” I lied.
“So, the rumours are true. Frederik Chemicals has wormed its way into the OSI?”
Most likely those rumours were nothing but slander however, I wasn’t going to refute it since that felt like shooting myself in the foot. "Quite right. To save myself precious time, I'm relying on you to give it to me now. Lest I wait and get the information directly from Peter von Dietel." For the sake of irony, I wasn't lying too. Director Dietel was your typical scientist who would accidentally blurt out confidential discoveries. With some prodding, I can extract what information I needed.
“This isn’t a test of loyalty and cooperation, is it? You’re testing my ability to accommodate you by disregarding prior orders of confidentiality.”
“You’re a smart man, Kimball. That’s one of the many reasons why I decided not to have you replaced.” I bit my lips as I eagerly waited for his response.
"Have it your way, Mr Frederik. We buy proximity fuses from the dwellers of Vault 34. They've recently resurfaced and started trading with the NCR.” Kimball then scoffed full of derision, “For some reason they’ve started to emulate the tribals near them. As of recently, they’ve asked our traders to call them ‘Boomers’. Ridiculous, really. The ‘Boomers tribe’. Sounds laughable.” He scoffed with as much disdain he could muster.
Interesting, now I just needed to know where this vault 34 is then I've accomplished what I've set out to do. However, from the painful look Buzzcut was giving me, I decided not to push my luck. “Once my mines are up and running and we’re back in the NCR heartlands, I’ll make sure to set up a research agreement between these ‘Boomers’, as you say, and my company.”
“From my information, they’re very isolationist.”
"You of no faith, Captain. As I said previously, there are always exceptions." I said with full confidence despite having no concrete plans to persuade them of an agreement. But the potential to get them on my side was delicious! I could use the circuits which my factories will pump out and make weapons galore, like the Fatman launchers! The Grand Canyon had uranium deposits, right?
"Um... Mr Frederik? Is there anything else you wish to discuss?"
Oh, crap. I zoned out again! I need to increase my perception in my pipboy sometime in the future. “Sorry, where was I? Ah, yes!” I deemed Captain Kimball to be deeply patriotic to the NCR, and firm enough not to divulge secrets wantonly. "Do you know the exact purpose of creating an outpost in Flagstaff?”
“Beyond the purpose of expanding NCR influence and, as you’ve told me, resource extraction of the Grand Canyon.”
I grinned since this was just as I expected. No one, including President Tandi herself, didn’t trust Buzzcut enough to tell him. This was an opportunity to turn the man further into my circle. "That's a shame. I've heard you graduated at the top of your class from a prestigious academy. I would've expected them to have faith in you, to tell you of the real purpose of our expedition."
Pausing for a few seconds, I noticed he was starting to lean towards me, patiently waiting for me with bated breath. "The Brotherhood of Steel is preparing a war against the NCR.”
He shot up suddenly and knocked a few of my books. "Impossible! They're good allies! Why would they want war with us?!"
“Let me address your first point. You remember that news reel of a few Brotherhood vertibirds landing in the Hall of Congress. That was gunboat diplomacy. They made the President and her Cabinet sign a humiliating ‘friendship’ agreement, that forced us to surrender all our Enclave technology and to execute scientists that pursued research deemed dangerous by them.”
"Wait... That entire thing was just a front to appease them? I must've seen thousands in the streets cheering them on! Are you saying the media lied to us?”
“Unfortunately, you are correct – orders directly from the President. To carry on as normal. When I received this," I gently cradled the Gold Branch medal, "She confided that appeasement was temporary. Soon, we’ll develop tools to fight back.
“And so, she ordered a few outposts outside of the Republic’s borders to store looted Enclave technology and house technicians and scientists to continue with their research.”
“This isn’t making any sense. They’ve helped us.” I could sense a hint of denial in his voice.
“The outpost we're planning to build in Flagstaff will allow us to store advanced technology, stolen from the Enclave or scavenged from ruins. All without the Brotherhood knowing. Hence, the radio silence.” I smiled as I held my radio, "They gave me a radio that's able to send out encrypted messages and that's also able to go through your jammers. There's no risk of the Brotherhood detecting my messages." I was swift to reassure him.
Aaron Kimball slumped his shoulders as if something was dragging him down. I heard him audibly gulp. “It’s all making sense now. I didn't question why we had to be under radio silence. Because good soldiers don't question their orders." Yes, that's right Buzzcut, it's why you're still here and not in chains. Your usefulness to me will pay off in the future, I just need to grab your loyalty by a velvet gauntlet! “But appeasement is not the right answer!”
I clicked my tongue and waved my fingers at him, "It is for now. We're no match for them. With Flagstaff under NCR's fingers, we can develop all sorts of technology and fight back eventually.”
Aaron looked at me with full incredulity, “So, how did we get away by transporting Enclave weapons out of the country. I’m no logistics expert, but such a thing is nearly impossible to hide.”
This is where I had the utmost respect for the President. She thought all of this from the beginning, playing the Brotherhood like a fiddle. “Simple, through misdirection. She told her staff to leak to the media about the opportunity to ‘advance’ with our alliance with the Brotherhood. And a few months before, she arrested former Enclave scientists and made them ‘disappear’. Then came her genius, misdirection through normalcy. Everyone didn’t panic, everyone thought they were the heroes, everyone thought they were there to help our fledgling nation.”
“Disappear? Those dozens of arrested scientists I’ve heard all over the news, are they all dead?”
That was a very good question. “They ‘disappeared’. So, expect a few ‘characters’ showing up in our front yard with a head far more knowledgeable than your average Wastelander.” I had a sneaking suspicion that they were everywhere. From what I've heard from Boneyard University, not all were arrested and shipped to black sites outside of the country.
“But surely, they must have some suspicion of being given no advanced technology.”
"Oh, no... You're misunderstanding me. We gave most of our toys away to the Brotherhood. The few that were shipped outside were cleverly disguised as normal shipments to be traded with our 'neighbours'.
The Captain gasped and silently screamed, “We gave them nearly all our advanced weaponry! They’re going to use it against us! It’s like that blonde fool wanting to abandon our weapons all over again!”
“Once again, you of no faith! Have faith in our technicians, our engineers and our scientists! Many of them, including my brother, have to suffer through radio silence with an eventual goal of defeating the Brotherhood in the future.”
"You would make a fine politician, lad – Leon." Hurray! We're now on a first name basis. Excellent. Much progress has been made. I knew confiding with him would make him trust me more. "Now, do you have more mind-breaking intel?"
I mischievously put a finger between my lips, “All in due time, Captain. Now you’re dismissed.”
He snickered and nodded, “If you excuse me then.”
I was pleased that my talk with Aaron Kimball yielded such great results. He became more cooperative and listened to Ed. Their daily bickering no longer ruined the cohesion of the expedition. And now that the top brass of the military and the civilian leadership were united, in a simmering but bearable tension, the expedition made good progress along the I-40.
It was a clear day with the sun starting to bear from the east when I saw something breathtaking. A mountain from the distance surrounded by trees with vibrant green foliage, as the sun pierced the mountain’s peak and the many branches, scattering a ray of light into a thousand glimmer. I felt my heart race, feeling something I hadn't felt before in my entire life. Was this my previous life worming itself into my reality? My life?
Was this mountain important in my past life? According to pre-war maps that mountain was called 'Bill Williams'. It didn't ring a bell. My dreams mentioned no place called as such.
I shook my head in an attempt to break that line of thought and saw a crowd gathering in front of Joshua Graham. From their ragged clothing, I assumed they were former slaves. I joined the crowd and heard the New Caanite speak whilst reading off a thick book. “From the book of Isaiah, chapter 60, verse 19, ‘the Lord will be your everlasting light, and your God will be your glory’.”
He kept speaking and I listened with rapt attention. Lightning coursing through my nerves, stirring something within me. Not knowing what was causing this phenomenon, I waited till Joshua finished his sermon, “Now go out and spread the Gospel! Everyone here, who has listened and accepted the Lord with all your heart, must go and bring the good news to the unbelievers and the ignorant!"
Once he was alone, I went to him as he talked to himself whilst perching on top of a boulder. Whatever he was doing it looked terribly uncomfortable. “- Thank you, Lord, for delivering me from enslavement to freedom.” He stopped what he was doing and turned his full attention to me, “Ah! Leon, sorry. I didn’t mean to ignore you.”
“It’s no problem. Just got a few questions from your sermon.” Joshua gave me a bright smile and gestured for me to carry on. “You talk about this god’s kingdom, but what is it?”
“God resides within every one of us. He speaks through our hearts and therefore giving us morality. And hence the Kingdom of God is within us all, and that’s why spreading the good news to the ignorant is a vital duty of every Christian.”
I honed into the word ‘Christian’ as more sparks surged inside my brain, unlocking many memories. “A Christian? What’s that?”
“A person who accepts Jesus Christ as their Lord and saviour and follows his teachings.”
I felt a headache coming causing me to clutch my temple. Joshua moved to help me but I waved quick enough to stop him. "I'm fine. Just having an epiphany of the sorts."
“An epiphany you say? Please tell me more.”
I didn’t like that prodding. I have to answer it without revealing too much. “I kept dreaming about this person. Now and then I keep getting flashbacks about this person and ever since I saw the beauty of that mountain, the flashbacks keep getting more and more powerful and clearer. More perfect. More whole.” I saw him with a gobsmacked expression with a hint of... Fear?
“This person. Can you describe him?”
“My dreams never mentioned his name. A few repetitions that I’ve remembered, it said, ‘I am the way and the truth and the life’.” I figured my past life had an experience with religion.
“Lord have mercy. That’s John, chapter 14 verse 6. I don't think you're lying. There are only a few Bibles across the Wasteland, and you recited an exact verse. Leon, I think the Lord is speaking to you.” He said in a tone that brook no refusal. Such confidence made me recoil a bit. He thinks this ‘lord’ is speaking through me. Did he give me the dreams?
Is this the same lord that plagues me with such nightmares? Dreams of people choking on chemical gas? Dreams of millions dying whilst coughing out their lungs? If so, I curse him.
"You don't look pleased by this."
“Believe me, whatever he’s trying to say to me is not at all pleasant.”
“The way of the Lord is not an easy one. It is fraught with challenges. He challenges us through every facet of our lives so that we may grow stronger. Moulding us like steel – for it can’t get strong without a few swings.”
First of all, that’s a primitive analogy. “Is New Canaan that much of a backwater that you require blacksmiths to make steel?” I joked hoping to redirect this conversation away. I came looking for answers and the only thing I got is more questions!
I had to give Joshua credit. His patience seemed limitless with how effortlessly he laughed my jab away. "I've yet to learn of your homeland and from the small glimpse I've been hearing, it's advanced and wealthy with many sheep that need to be led to the Lord."
Umm. No. From your sermon just ten minutes ago, this ‘god’ preached for pacifism and something ridiculous like 'turning the other cheek' and to 'love your enemies'. The NCR doesn't need pacifism on chems when it is under existential threat. Though, this was highly classified so I did nothing but encourage him to 'preach the gospel’ as he says. Unfortunately, this only motivated the man to pry more information from me.
"Can you tell me what visions He's giving you?”
It was unnerving how serious he was with something that should have been irrational and illogical. Hang on. If I played this right, he'd be my loyal employee. From the way he gathered people in that sermon of his, his charisma may be equal to that of Edward. Such talents were sorely needed. "Of calamity." And I'm causing it – didn't tell him that of course.
“Like what?”
“Many people were dying from poisonous gas." Chemical gas I helped to invent. I tried to crush the guilt raging through me. He looked at me with horror so I gave him some hope. “When I saw many pillars of light over that mountain, I was struck with beauty. I saw salvation.” I hated how much this was true. Something within me was tugging at my heart and I couldn’t resist it because it felt good.
I had him hook and sinker when I saw him gaping like a fish. “Go on.”
It could’ve been so easy just to lie and make myself more important, but I knew it wasn’t right, so I sullenly slumped my shoulders feeling defeated. I felt awestruck, yes. I had visions swimming in front of me, nearly overwhelming me. But are these the signs of salvation just like what Joshua was talking about? "I don't know. I'll have to pray for more visions." I'll certainly have them. Hopefully, it’ll be more pleasant than the enslaved mother and her children being blown to smithereens whilst choking on chlorine gas.
I was expecting disappointment and disinterest from him but he surprised me by grabbing my shoulders and encouraging me to follow him.
Weirdly enough, I chose to trust him. We hiked for half an hour and arrived at a stunning clear lake. From the pre-war signs, this must’ve been Cataract Lake. Shame about the name. That horrendous name was a grave injustice against the lake.
Savouring the immaculate view, I saw from my peripheral vision that Joshua was dunking himself into the lake. What bloody madman! Yes, it looks clean! But the radiation must be through the roof!
The man mad who must’ve developed all sorts of cancers from a to b, signalled for me to enter. “Heck no! You expect me to enter that death lake?!”
“Trust in the Lord, Leon Frederik. I’ll baptise you.”
Baptism. Again, another word that flashed around me, overriding my senses. Pure instincts caused me to pinch my temple. It was all in vain.
I took out a pill of rad-x and inhaled it as I drenched myself in the water. To my surprise, my pipboy’s geiger counter didn’t detect a hint of radiation. This lake was clean and unspoiled from the horrors of nuclear war.
Joshua gently lowered me to the water as I crossed my arms. “I baptise you in the name of the Father, of the Son and of the Holy Ghost.”
This all felt familiar. From the way I crossed my arms just before submerging in the water. What Joshua just said reminded me of something.
Another familiar sensation, I felt my soul being sucked away – a telltale sign that I was about to dream.
And so, I dreamt, leading me to pass out.