“Doctor. Good to see you again,” Nash said.

Franklin had returned to Primm. Johnson Nash had been the most helpful man in this town and was the operator of the Mojave Express in town. The doctor found him in his home/office, just across the street from the Vicky and Vance casino.

“Nash. Also good to see you. How is Primm with the NCR in charge now,” Franklin asked.

“Not sure yet. It's only been a few days, but people are already whispering about taxes,” Nash grimaced.

“Eww. Might want to talk with the others about tax evasion soon,” Franklin said.

He fully supported sticking it to the man. Just because it was a post-apocalypse, he wasn’t going to suddenly become a taxpayer. He had technology fully capable of creating damn near anything just by consuming the very air or energy he produced in excess. One day, he will introduce the world to a post-scarcity way of living.

“Next question. What's with Sputnik?” Franklin asked.

A large metal ball was sitting on the counter across from Franklin and Nash.

“That beat-up old thing? What do you want to know?” Nash asked.

“Yes, sir. What is it?” The ball that looked like an old Russian satellite showed signs of heavy repair. It had a bumper sticker acting as tape, a license plate bolted to cover a bullet hole, and numerous screws that didn't look to be the right size.

“That's an old Enclave eye bot. Used to be hundreds of those things back before the NCR took over Navarro and wiped out the Enclave,” Nash explained.

“What was the Enclave?” Franklin asked.

“Ahh, they were some old pre-war military types that kidnapped people and destroyed settlements. People eventually got fed up with them and wiped them out. NCR destroyed their last base at Navarro,” Nash said.

“And you want to reactivate one of their robots?” Franklin asked. It wouldn't be the first time he heard about some fool who thought he knew better and activated a mad scientist’s destroyed robot. Those stories usually end with a lot of people dead. One time, a robot ended up going on a journey of self-discovery and settling down to become a dentist.

“I was hoping to use the thing as a courier, but I think I see your point. Tell you what, you can take ‘em,” Nash said, rolling the ball over.

“Well, thanks. I will see what I can do with him,” Franklin said, picking up the robot. “Now for the second question. I have learned a bit about a missing package. A man in a checkered suit came through this way with a platinum chip he stole.”

“Platinum chip, huh? I remember that delivery. Strangely enough, the second robot cowboy I have ever met hired us to deliver it to Vegas. Now, as for this suited man, I am not sure. I know former deputy Beagle might have seen them.”

“Well, thank you, Nash.” Franklin paid his goodbyes and left the Mojave Express, spy drone in hand.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Beagle didn’t tell Franklin anything he hadn’t already predicted himself. The thief went south to Nipton, probably to turn back north towards Vegas. They probably went through the town before it was sacked. To think he almost came that close to the man.

The spy drone was fascinating, as was this ‘Enclave.’ If they could field hundreds of these spy drones, they must have had a high level of technological capability. Then they were defeated by the NCR? All signs show the NCR military is equivalent to what a 1930s country might have. They didn’t seem to have a robust air force, and there was no need for a navy in the desert, but the true strength of an army lay in logistics. NCR soldiers had matching uniforms and a clear military ranking system. They managed trade and collected taxes even out here.

While this is all impressive for a post-apocalyptic society, how strong was the Enclave? Or maybe, how weak had they become for the NCR to defeat them?

The drone, or ED-E based on the letters on the license plate, was easily repaired. Franklin fixed the last little fuse, and the ball lifted into the air.

“Beep, boop, wooo, This is ra-ra-ra.. RaDIo new Vegas.” ED-E said.

“Guess you work. Alright ED-E, hold still for a second.” The doctor wanted to take a moment and study this robot.

“Yippppeeee, there will bee no wedding bells for to-day.” Franklin believed this to be some kind of response, at least. ED-E was clearly intelligent, possibly even sentient.

“Do you understand me, ED-E?”

Affirmative beeps.

“Excellent. Well then, it is a pleasure to meet you, ED-E. You don’t mind me calling you that, I hope.”

Negative beeps. Happy beeps.

“Well, that's good. I am Dr. Franklin Limon. I specialize in human-machine interfaces, cybernetics, and nanomachines.”

Acknowledging beeps.

“What about you?”

Sad beeps.

“You don’t know?”

Negative beeps. Aimless beeps.

“You do know but don’t know how to do it?”

Affirmative beeps.

“Alright, I understand. You can tell me later.”

Grateful beeps.

“Well, ED-E, how about I tell you the tale of the last few days and my future plans for world conquest.”

___________

To the west, past the border of the Mojave, but before the land of the Bear. The Divide. In the temple to the old world. This was Ulysses' new home, where he waits amongst dead men for him. Courier Six. The man who slaughtered a whole nation. His nation. One that could have rivaled even the Bear and Bull.

*Beep.

*Beep.

*Beep.

One of the old-world machines detected something. This console was responsible for the eyebots. Floating balls of metal that were used for whatever purpose their creators deemed. One such robot healed him after the bombs destroyed the Divide.

The console detected another eyebot. This one was in the Mojave. Ulysses couldn’t send it commands when it was that far, but he could hear what it did. Let it be his ears.

*Buzz,” With the Powder Gangers now on the path to rehabilitation, we are gonna look for this Platinum Chip. Some cowboy robot hired a bunch of couriers to deliver knickknacks, but he really wants this chip. A man killed the courier that had it, so I have been hired to retrieve it.”

A courier was dead? No, courier six was dead. So, the wasteland finally claimed him. But why now? After he had found him at long last. Who was this man taking on his destiny?

“In between all these errands, I plan on exploring old war ruins, consuming everything that isn’t nailed down, then consuming the stuff that is nailed down. The material will be used to make water purifiers, fusion generators, and much much more, my spherical friend.”

Inquisitive beeps.

“To what end, you ask? Why the elimination of war! Well, the most you can possibly reduce. War will always happen, but I can damn well make sure people have no desire to wage it. I can start by solving the water, food, and energy issues. Next, we move on to societal issues by taking over whoever is in charge of the communities of the wasteland. I could also just usurp them by offering everyone free water and food.”

Curious beeps.

This man was so casually talking to a robot about toppling the factions of the Mojave. He would provide food and water for free? Who is he?

“You want to know where I am getting the resources? I just told you. I will consume old ruins. My nanites can convert matter into other matter, and I can create unlimited water from fusion generators. Honestly, the issues of the old world weren’t their limited resources but incompetent leadership and petty rivalries between world powers. Take this lesson on war to heart, ED-E. It's hard to get citizens to die for something they don’t believe in. It's even harder to do when they have full bellies and fat wallets. If you want world peace, you need to eliminate or undermine the competition. I plan on doing that by removing scarcity.”

Scarcity? The lack of something or something is hard to find. He would eliminate this by making everything plentiful? How? What are these nanites?

“Hehehe. Well done, Courier Six. Your successor seems to be capable of following your road. Or maybe his mind is broken like that of so many others in this world. Ulysses would need to see for himself. His temple could wait.