[hider=end]“In any case, to provide android functionality it looks like the shits meshed code from a number of robots, and Pip-boys.” he continued. Glaring across the room he noticed Sweet Gin's confused look, “They're arm things.” he said, wringing his hand around his arms, “You'll fucking know when you see them.

“But they use that old OS and worked up from there and into the synthetical-biological processing in your head and across your body to make it as human as possible.

“We can only guess that as well as to their clients, those recordings are for the android's benefits as well. Since even fucking locked down on free thought you have the capability to learn and you need to fucking learn your functions. So you're loaded up with the standard RobCo and Vault Tech shit byte for byte, complete with user tutorials.

“Your computers will do the same.”

“Oh...” mumbled Sweet Gin, “And who are these RobCos, and Vault Techs?” she asked.

“Old companies.” Horse answered grumpily, “Long fucking dead. We're all just pirating off their remains. I fucking imagine we ain't gotten to stealing 5% of either companies long-lost shit. Those fuckers did a lot for that fucking War.

“But you'll know RobCo whenever you see a robot and a computer, and Vault Tech when you see a fucker with a Pip Boy, or a Vault; shit people hid in the war.”

“I see...” Sweet Gin nodded, “And their stuff is inside me?”

“Heavily modified.” answered Horse, “I won't be able to steal control of you through RobCo Termilink or even base binary. The Institute went somewhere else when they made androids. If I wanted it on my terminal, I'll need to plug into your translator.”

“Translator?” Sweet Gin asked. It sounded like a terrifying device.

“Apart from a lot of metal and plastics in normal-look people, it's one of the Institute's 101 signatures.” Horse answered, “It's what The Man goes through for his access. It's what I'd plug into if I peeled back that scalp of yours. I can get in and clear your memory. Mind fuck you.”

Sweet Gin's face went pale and scared. Horse's stern and angry look face didn't make it any better. He puffed annoyed as he went back to work. From alongside her Connie sighed and said, “Well, let's look at that raft.”

***

It was something, sort of. 

The Heaven's Gate settlement nudged up against the murky, foaming Connecticut river. A thick sudsy film ran along its service. In the weak moonlight, thin twisting locks of multicolored bands shone with a metallic glow in the thick water below. And in the water rested a small, battered looking water craft. Secured to the sides sat pale, graying blue plastic barrels and bound chords of metal poles.

“The Mission used to use this to teade up and down river.” Connie said as he presented Sweet Gin the water craft. Dinah lingered in the back, looking worn and tired as she sat down at a weathered bench, “But the tahde up rivah went dead some time ago and the ae'aft's man disappeaed. No body's used it sense.”

“Um... thanks...” Sweet Gin said. She felt uncomfortable taking the vehicle. Even being offered it, she felt like she couldn't.

“But what if you need to use it?” she asked, nervously.

“It won't be an issue.” Connie smiled, “It's for a good cause anyhow, and Bahnaby would be willing to donate forgotten things to a cause that's better than what it's being used fah.

“Besides, I'm suhe one of the Templah's will find it when on pat'ol or looking fo'h Rome.”

“Rome?” Sweet Gin asked.

“Some lost city.” Connie cackled, “They've b'ought back stawies of places called Rome, but nothing matching the pre-wah desc'iption of the city. They'e seahch will neveh end, no doubt.”

“I see...” she said, “What if I find it?”

Connie smiled, a distant sort of smile. “Then I'm suhe you'll need to contact back he'a.” he said.

“So what we boing here and when we be leaving.” Dinah yawned from her bench, “If we gon' be talking all night then I'd like to find a cot and lay down.

“Don't be knowin' about the Android, though.”

Connie nodded, “You know what you'e doing then?” he asked.

“Keeping a sweet eye on this girl here.” Dinah smiled, tired, “And if I be needing too, set a Pulse Grenade on her.”

“Yes.” Connie confirmed to the distress of Sweet Gin. Having that chilling electric darkness fall on her was about as frightening as finding herself possessed again.

As Connie looked back down at her she gave him a uncomfortable smile. He sighed some, and looked away uncomfortably. “You two'll be going staight to New Yahk.” he said, “The Connecticut will empty out into the sea, follow the coast west-wahd.

“Just... just be caheful.” he added, “We don't send many refugees down that 'oute.”

“How come?” Sweet Gin asked.

“Bad mi'e luehks.” Connie replied, “If we we'en't so concehned with The Man, then we would have no issue sending you the long way t'ough the hills. But that's too much land and too much time for him to catch up.”

“What's a...” Sweet Gin started, before being interrupted by Dinah. The android was mounted with the curiosity on what this was Connie was invoking. As well as doubled in anxiety and hesitation to find out, or encounter one.

“If we be taking on Mire Lurks then I done want a proper rest.” Dinah protested, agitated, “Do we be need to leave at this hour?”

“I'm so'y.” Connie apologised, “But if you two need to then you can sit back. But you both need to depa't by the mo'ning.”

“It be fine by me.” Dinah said softly, and cheerily. Feeling refreshed at the prospect of getting a chance to sleep.

***

Outside the window night hung in the air. A blanket of ideal blackness lay across the dreary settlement. And though the men on the street had retired from the barrels of burning refuse - and their fathers having died - the lights that dotted the settlement's walls continued to glow softly. The darkened forms of the guards paced back and forth on their high parapets as they watched the city beyond. A soft peace hung over the realm.

The window the android sat behind was long blasted out. The glass removed long ago. The empty frame hung on a frame of peeling wood, signs of burn damage pitted and spotted it.

Connie had found her and Dinah both free rooms in a battered building that had taken the name of the Conneticut Inn, which was nailed to the front of the building on a large chunk of wood in dripping black ink that only exaggerated the atrocious misspelling of the business. A further sort of crypt-like air hung in it as well. It was dry, despite many of the windows removed. And it was cold too.

Much of the wallpaper was peeling back from the stucco wall. The drywall plaster itself too flaking away from the tightly stacked rows of wood that had built up the supports for the dry, chalky plaster. The rooms of the old house as well had been divided and further sub-divided into smaller compartments where the mattresses and cots could barely fit.

Apart from the android's small radio there was a soft silent sigh that washed through the morbidly dry building. Connie had no doubt retired from the airwaves for the night. The music played uninterrupted. What was on now was some old song, [url=http://youtu.be/KMhBdIu8gaI]the singer not wielding a soft showman's voice[/url]. Sweet Gin however enjoyed the softness of the tune, and its simplicity with the slow strumming of the guitar and only its owner's voice.

So she sat in her cot, staring out at the moonlight wasteland out her broken window in her corner room. Dinah slept quietly in a cubby across the narrow "hall", if it could be called such a thing. Sweet Gin's pack as well lay on the floor, nearly taking up what precious floor space existed in Sweet Gin's closet. The barrel of Vinny's rifle poked leaning against the wall, as did the Bancroft sword.

Sweet Gin sighed troubling. She felt herself burn with a furious anxiety as she looked at the rifle, knowing that it was being just as much a tool for her, as it was a reminder of what exactly was burdening her with having fought its owner. He had killed her. Though she still felt confused as to exactly what that meant. She felt she had a grasp on the life and death thing. But looking at the rifle with "Smile" so brightly painted on its side, and of Vinny, she was reminded just how little grasp she still had on life and death.

What exactly was death? Was it a sleep? The priest said that it was coming to have any of his attributes of life taken away. But looking at the gun, could any of those be given back? Could he "life" be given back to him? Would all of this be forgiven and can she just got back?

But the ghouls of Worcester... Were they alive? Or were they dead? Certainly they had no reason, or could not speak. A cold chilling fear rain down the nape of her neck. The thought of them brought an icy coldness down her neck. She shivered at the thought. She had managed to elude them. But their bestial tenacity, and those dim, yet viciously bright eyes still burned. She didn't want to end up like them. She feared the prospect so much. The coldness dripped down, pooling in her groin and she shuddered.

She couldn't just go back to see if she could give Vinny back his lost faculties and make him alive again. That'd mean she'd go back to Boston. And the idea of returning to Boston only made the chilling numbness burn more. More so as it drifted to a dull gnawing pain at being used as she had. She was free. She didn't need to go through that again.

She felt the desire to move crawl on her even more. Was she wasting time? The night was long, and she didn't think she needed to rest. Not like everyone else around her. To them, the passage of the night time didn't seem to have any effect or consequence. But how tenacious was The Man? Did he stop like them?

The night was long, and she needed something to do. She reached out, pulling her heavy pack up to the dingy cot she lay in. Pulling it up she caught the corner of a book. Curiosity tinged and she grabbed it, pulling it out delicately by the leafy corner of its cover. "True Police Stories" it read, a man was painted on the cover wearing a fedora and holding a pistol.

She remembered this. She got it from the merchant. The one that surrendered it to her and the pack. She hoped he was doing alright. To her astonishment she found her old patient gown from her awakening at the bottom. It was still caked with the grime and blood of that dungeon she awoke to. She could still hear the song that had played.

And a phantom memory reminded her of how her ass had felt.

She cringed, closing the pack and lifting the tender book out. She clutched it close to her chest. At least it wasn't a reminder of anything worse.

Her radio was a source of softened illumination, along with the frosty moon that glistened in the night sky. So long as the night lasted, she'd at least have something to read as she opened the cover and began reading the faded print. At least it was something to do.

***

The sound of the river splashing against the cold cement side of the Connecticut was the only shift in the morning stillness that hung over Springfield. That heavy muddy, and chemically tainted slurping as the rainbow tinted bands drifted and twirled down the river. Over the coarse of the night, the river had even carried with it a parting gift to Sweet Gin as she and Dinah stood at the river side, overlooking their raft. Somehow, Sweet Gin was still nervous about accepting it, but the radio DJ had accepted.

Connie himself had retreated to the radio station, leaving the android and her aged companion to the question of when to shove of.

The gift in question was the wet and ravaged body of something. The slurry of the river that had washed over it had dampened the fur and the body had decayed beyond the point of recognition. Sickly graying wounds covered its body, torn or shot into it and eaten away by the water. And if Sweet Gin looked closely, she swore she could see it glow green.

“What you be thinking what it be?” Dinah asked in a low tone.

Sweet Gin shrugged, “I don't know...” she mumbled. Whatever it was, it looked more like a bundle of rags than it was an animal. The mated water-logged chunk of flesh just rested in the water, pressed against the side of the raft.

Dinah shrugged, “I don't be thinking it be mattering none.” the retired raider mused, stepped onto the raft with a careful step. “But you be coming?” she asked.

Dinah looked up at her, then down river. The bubbles and discolored foam slid through the blackened water at an oily pace. It wasn't exactly comforting, even from a synthetic perspective. “Yeah...” she started uncomfortably, jumping aboard the rickety boat.

Her weight shifted as she stepped on, compensating for the subtle bow it took as she stepped onto the plywood deck. A rancid spike of panic struck through her as she merely pictured herself falling off the opposite edge in a ball of metal and flesh and landing in that rancid river water.

But Dinah caught her, as she staggered drunkenly into the middle of the boat, a breath caught tight and deep into her chest. “Thanks...” she said with a deep breath.

“It be no problem, hon.” Dinah smiled, helping her down as the android took a seat.

“But you do feeling OK?” she asked as she crept to the edge of the boat, carefully untying the moldy rope that held the raft to the docks. It immediately began to slowly drift down-river as she tossed the tie onto shore before it could slip into the sickening ichor.

“I think so...” Sweet Gin said softly, to tell the truth her head had been feeling light since earlier that morning, and her body felt numb.

“You sure?” Dinah asked, reaching over for the long galvanized pole strapped to the side. Dipping it into the water she started gently steering and pushing the raft about, avoiding the hazards thrusting out from the water below, darkened husks of boats, debris, or even a few cars. “I do mean darling,” she began again with a concerned frown, “You be look a little paler than usual. But, you done always be a pale sort of girl for what I be knowing.”

“Thanks, I guess?” Sweet Gin asked, turning to face her companion. The city of Springfield passed lazily by around them and she kept a hard eye on the passing landscape.

Dinah nodded with silent acknowledgment, but kept here eyes on the towering offices and apartments lining the water way. Long stone bridges stretched over the thick muddy river, populated by the spent remnants of the world before, or warnings of the world today.

Bodies strung up by jagged wires dangled from the railings and posts of the bridges as they passed under them. Dozens hanging out over the water, baked in the sun until they lost their flesh, or eaten by the flies until they were mere bloated sacks of putrid smelled flesh. Sweet Gin watched them by as they floated past them held in a childish trance of awe and disgust. The disfigured remains of some traveler, their bellies bloated, green and purple from decomposition. Growing frail as their last fibers gave out. Or as they passed by, simply growing tired of their prisons and splitting, falling from their noses to land with a loud wet splash in the river to sink.

“Who-” Sweet Gin began.

“Be keeping your eyes open would help keep us from that.” Dinah said, “When you be traveling, you keep an eye out for anyone else you done gone got killed. You do hear?”

The android looked down at where the body fell into the river, and back up at Dinah. “Alright.” she said.

Sweet Gin sat there on the raft. The city passed by, and grew and shrank. As they left, she slowly became aware of the tension from Dinah. The tight wound string that was strung between her and the scenery. And Sweet Gin noticed as the apartments and offices shrank to the shells of smaller stores and houses as they crawled onward into suburbia that great tension that hung in the air. A watchful silence, or an eerie peace.

“Are we being followed?” Sweet Gin asked nervously, as she looked out to the shore looking for movement.

“I don't know.” the ex-raider muttered, “But it's a bit too quiet.”

“I can tell.”

“Lay-a out a gun,” Dinah said in a soft breath, “Just in case.”

Sweet Gin nodded enthusiastically, shifting her pack onto her lap as she shuffled through her selection.

It wasn't until the raft had left the town proper that Dinah spoke. When the buildings had left way to open fields, or hallowed out forests where the natural cadence of the world resumed its strength. “Have you done thought about eating?” she asked.

“Eating?” Sweet Gin repeated.

“You be not knowin' about eating?” Dinah chuckled.

“I can't say I've been acquainted with it...” Sweet Gin answered unsure, nervous. She tried to think back. Recalling if she had ever done anything to that line. “Is this a sexual act?” she finally said repulsed.

The response sent Dinah sprawling to her knees laughing, keeling over as she clutched her gut and held fast to the pole. Her inward dry cackles and wheezing laughs filled to the hot air of the late morning.

“Did I say something wrong?” Sweet Gin asked

“No girl, we be just having something to talk about.” Dinah cackled, regaining her breath.
----------------------------------------------
[i]Chapter Footnote: Level up![/i]
[i]Level Footnote: Level 6![/i]
[i]Perk Added: Ferocious Loyalty - When you drop below 50% HP, companions gain +50 DR.
Skill footnote:[/i]
[i]Explosives skill: 33/100[/i]
[i]Guns Skill: 47/100[/i][/hider]