"Thanks." Sweet Gin croaked weakly. Her voice raspy and dry. Her throat felt like it had been torn apart.
Immobile, Sweet Gin lay there as normality slowly returned. The electrical sensation in her longs subsided. The double vision and inversion in her eyes faded. And as her ears came around she could make out a soft strange hum. Another electrical thing, somewhere distant and across the room.
Her limbs unlocked and fell back to the ground. Feebly she could lift herself. She staggered up to her knees before falling back down face-first to the dry rug. Groaning, she rested a shaking hand and pushed herself up on her knees.
"Vital systems: restored." the calming voice said again. There was a brief moment as it spoke again: "Systems 97% functional. Fault Systems re-initializing: 30%."
Resting her eyes with relief she muttered thanks as she staggered up to her feet. Though functional, she still felt dizzy. And she was sore again. She groaned as she rubbed her back and rose to her feet.
The office was very clearly dark. But a soft green and blue light flowed from the far-side of the room. Was it something she hadn't noticed before? Or did it recently re-activate? Groggy, she shambled to it, the gear on her back feeling heavier as well. Perhaps it had something to do with rebooting.
Staggering blind in the dark around a corner she came on the source of the light. A softly glowing terminal, and next to it, a softly glowing... thing. Its shape was hard to describe. But it was built heavy and had a warm glow to it. It was surrounded by a heavy casing and thick stubby cables ran from all sides as it hummed and pulsed softly to itself.
The terminal itself was filled with a random assortment of characters. "MacGregor's Garage" was barely illuminated in the noise of symbols, letters, and numbers that ran amok over the screen.
She could only assume this was the power cell that was needed. She reached down and grabbed hold of it. The device was heavy, that much was known. Cradling it gently in her arms she wondered just how it had survived here. She looked around cautiously, there was nothing else about.
Victorious, she hopped to the door. Not willing to stick around any longer. Or wanting to know just how long it could be until she would be harassed again.
***
"Well I done be impressed." Dinah smiled, sitting up off her rotten mattress as Sweet Gin staggered through the door. She still felt weakened. But she carried on to the table, throwing herself down on the chair and presenting the old black woman with the softly pulsating power unit. "I imagine I don't be needin' to not use t'at truck anymore." she continued to croon.
Looking back at Sweet Gin though, an expression of distress crossed her face. "I'm sorry," she said, "but are you bein' alright hon? You be a might pale. You do seen a ghost, sweetie?"
"A what?" Sweet Gin asked.
"A ghost." the woman said, "Well, a... Well a dead person I done guess."
Sweet gin cocked her head to the side. "Dead?" she asked confused.
"I see..." Dinah mused, "Well never you mind girl. You be alright, which is t'e good t'ing."
Sweet Gin nodded, combing her fingers through her hair. Light crackles of static popped and jumped to her finger. Dinah shot the android another curious and concerned expression, grounding her as she sat down. Sweet Gin saw the concerned look she gave her and looked away, nervous and afraid.
"You be sure you don't wanna talk about it?" she asked.
"I- I don't know." Sweet Gin said softly. Thinking about the shop, she felt a cold sweat coalesce all across her. Even for once her limbs tinged with a sort of phantom feeling.
"Girl," Dinah said comfortingly, "If I done had Barnaby teach me a t'ing when I done be gettin' off t'e raider life, it be you gotta open up sometimes.
"What troubling you, girl?"
Sweet Gin kept silent, staring down to the dirty ground of the impromptu shack built out onto the street. The room falling silent, except for the soft electrical sobs of the power unit, and the groaning of the wind outside. The time passed by without a word. Sweet Gin went without talking, or looking Dinah in the face. She stared down at the road-muddied feet of hers. The acrylic shine they once had buffed out by caked sand and dirt.
"I don't know how to explain it." she said nervously, "Yesterday, I think..." she muttered, trailing off.
"Something's been on my head. I think it tried to kill me twice." she added after a moment, "At the shop, I tossed something and everything went black. But I haven't heard whatever it is since.
"It's, scary." she said mutedly, "I can't figure it out, where it is. Or who. It wants me to return to the Institution."
"T'en it do best to ignore it." Dinah smiled, "Barnaby be handeling a lot of t'ese t'ings. I'll do introduce you now. 'Les you be wantin to help still?"
"No, no." Sweet Gin said, "I'm fine." she staggered.
Dinah nodded. "T'en why not you lie down for a bit." she said, "I'll a install t'e cell t'en we go be have fun."
The android lay there on the mattress. Her arm threw over across he eyes as she listened anxiously into the stifling silence and the ebbing and groaning of the shack around her. Alone again, she waited pensively and afraid of interference. That scowling and chilling voice. Each creek and groan of the wood and sheet metal sent sharp shocks of fear spiking through her, quivering and aching at each inclination that she would be horrendously taunted.
The time ticked by slowly. The seconds turning to minutes and minutes into hours as she waited for something to happen. Impatiently waiting for Dinah to finish as she lay on her stiff, prodding mattress. Waiting his anxiety, fear that a cruel voice would whisper into her ear. Incapacitating her with spiking, biting, gnawing static. The thoughts tore at her insides and forced them to crawl. The thought of the white noise and the crippling pain clenched in around her. She curled up and waited.
Each time the metal ground against itself, she was reminded of that screeching. The terrible violation of her head as the voice fought its way in. Sawing through, somehow. Torturing its way to acquire Sweet Gin's attention. The grinding, the buzzing of the sheets of rusted steel and iron.
And the uncertainty of waiting.
Softly outside, she heard foot steps. The soft thuds and footfalls against the sun-warmed cement outside. Slow. Sweet Gin's breath froze as she listened to the slow clodding of feet draw closer. Drawing heavier, more distinct as it came up alongside the shack. Sweet Gin listened as she hid behind her arms. Eyes widened and ears open as she listened to the foot falls with great caution. There was a metal click, and a reflexive fearful jolt charged through her, sending her staggering to an upright position, facing the door.
It slowly opened, letting in the bright orange, evening light. And Dinah stepped in.
"I done got it set up." she said, leaning in the door, "Ready t' raise Hell?"
Sweet Gin blinked confused. Then the memory washed back like a wave, and she realized why it was she meant. “Yeah, I guess.” she said, sitting up. Dinah smiled as she led her out the door.
***
The rumble wasn't strong. But it wasn't weak. It had in its vibrato a stubborn resistance to the disease of age and the erosion of time as life kicked into it one last time. The plates on its chassis shuddered at the inclination of having found life again. What was dead, had come alive again.
"Be here, sweetie!" Dinah called over the the cacophony that was both the rumbling nuclear reactor and the shaking parts of the car, "I'll be teach you to drive!"
Sweet Gin stood backed hesitant. The way the old truck rattled on the concrete of the garage floor. Parts of it were clearly rattling off and clattering onto the floor. Strips of its side breaking free of its blood-red skeleton fell to drag or hang haphazardly over the side. Staring at the screaming and rumbling and shivering tank of a truck, she did not feel inclined to have to be taken out by such a dangerous vehicle.
"You be coming in, or not?" the woman asked, sensing Sweet Gin's apprehension. She leaned warily out of the window, waiting for a response.
Sweet Gin stepped toward the grumbling truck. Throwing her pack in, she pullied herself up into the driver's seat. What remained of the seats were dry and hard, and even through clothes they itched and irritated her back.
The driver's wheel leaned at an odd angle to the right, the column having somehow bent a degree or so in that direction. She looked out through the warped steering wheel, checking her surroundings pensively. An in-dash radio broadcasted a steady stream of white-noise barely audible over the loud disruptive roaring of the engine as it ebbed and flowed with a strange pulse.
"She done took a bit of work." Dinah smiled as she pulled her back over, yelling over the roar of the engine as she dug through Sweet Gin's things, and pulling out her guns, "But I done got'er."
"What are you doing?" the android asked with a raised voice.
"If we be going to shoot crackas I be needin' iron!" she smiled, pulling her scavenged revolver and so-far trusty 10mm. She checked the chambers and laid out spare ammo on the dash where they danced without caution. Dinah's golf club, she found, was on the ground at her feet.
Sweet Gin frowned, but looked back at the controls. She realized she didn't know what she was doing. "How do I..." she started.
"Done hit that to go, t'at to stop." Dinah immediately began pointing out, directing Sweet Gin to two peddles on the floor, "Excuse me, I forgot. Oh, and turn this to control it." she added, slapping the wheel in front of Sweet Gin. She hesitated for a moment and looked down at a rusted shaft that shot erect from the counsel,
"Oh, and t'is also be do a t'ing, but I can't say I remember." she added, "All the jet done made me forget." she admitted.
Sweet Gin looked from Dinah to the controls of the vehicles. The woman had already rammed a magazine into her 10mm and was sighting it out through the windshield. With a tense hesitant foot, she pressed her foot against one of the indicated peddles and the truck boomed with a loud roar, but went no where. Sweet Gin slammed it harder and it screamed with a louder roar, but went no where faster.
"Oh, I done remember!" Dinah boomed, laughing, "Hit t'at peddle for me." she said, pointing to the left-most rusty and eroding peddle on the floor. Sweet Gin did so, as Dinah grabbed hold of the shaft and heaved it upright. A terrible loud clunk and screeching grumbled from underneath the hood as it was moved into place.
"Be good." Dinah said. Sweet Gin released the peddle, and gently the truck started rolling forward.
A great fear hit the android as it moved along at a casual pace at her arms shot to the empty window and the battered steering wheel, gripping both with a strength that could very well break a man's arm. Her insides raced as it rolled out into the open air.
"Now turn t'e wheel." Dinah cackled from the passenger seat. Sweet Gin gently spun the wheel and the car labored left. "Other way!" Dinah commanded in a stern corrective voice. Sweet starting to break out around the collar Sweet Gin thrust the wheel to the other direction and the truck took a slow, sharp turn the other way as it pulled out into the street.
"Now you can be playing with t'at other peddle." Dinah coerced.
Sweet Gin carefully pressed down on the right peddle, and slowly the truck gained speed as she set it somewhere in the middle of the road. She gave it all the attention she had, staring tensely on the road in front of her as the truck rode over the dusty cement.
From alongside of her, Dinah began operating the radio. The static shifted and changed pitch, none of which never hit that painful tone as earlier that afternoon. As was earlier that morning, the white-noise took form into distinguishable form.
Music took form in the cab as Dinah found that radio station somewhere in Springfield."Go, hit it!" Dinah encouraged, turning the radio up to over-take the monstrous rumbling of the car.
Sweet Gin panicked, and hit the pedal harder, the truck took in a great breath and accelerated forward at an aggressive pace.
"LEFT!" Dinah hollered, half laughing over the cacophony. With a silent squeal, Sweet Gin yanked the wheel, sending the truck into a nearly destructive turn as it hit the intersection. Sliding on two wheels as it spun onto the left hand and tore down the road. Swerving, it corrected itself as it took a aggressive lurch down the road, Dinah boomed with glee. The truck rocking at even the slightest bump.
The truck claimed the coarse, easing as Sweet Gin let off of the accelerator, rolling south-ward past the empty houses and shops that dotted the street side. Decrepit structures lying dead, the old rotting remains of the old world were cracked and torn as the truck passed through it.
Dinah directed Sweet Gin alongside her. Coming to another intersection ordering the android sweep the truck right, barreling it again down a section of suburbia that had rotted away to the dried skeletons of ruined homes. Blackened and sagging remains of other cars, or trucks like the one that now roared down the sepulcher avenue lay huddled to the side of the road, neatly parked when their owners had died to fire. Or had died themselves in it.
As she drove, comfort eased into her as she sat behind the bent wheel. Keeping the right coarse. The wind sweeping through the windows and brushing through her hair. The whipping breeze felt good, and continued to lax her into a state of comfort behind the truck's wheel. She slowly lost her tense-ness, easing down into the seat.
Dinah ordered her to take another turn, ambling the vehicle north-bound. The corner was taken with a demonic aggression that threatened to top-size the whole thing and spill the two unbuckled passengers onto the rough broken asphalt outside. But balance was regained, and it re-righted itself, swerving out onto the middle line of the road and setting a straight coarse.
At the end of which might as well have been a castle of junk.
Rotting sheets of plywood stood across the road, behind which the sagging telephone poles were draped with dangling bodies on crooked meat-hooks. Mutilated remains driven into the poll's sides. "Keep going!" Dinah hollered, bracing herself into the seat and holding up the pistol.
"What? Sweet Gin shouted, confused.
"Keep going! Faster!" Dinah said again, "Break through it!"
The plywood barricade was drawing closer. Taking a deep breath, Sweet Gin slammed down heavier on the accelerator and looked away as it roared with heavenly force at the wood. Closing the gap at the speed of a blink, it slammed into and through the barrier like a missile. Chunks of wood spewing outward as the red and brown demon tore through like it did not exist. It thudded over the settled posts and broke out into a larger open space.
The truck already pinged and panged with scattered gunfire. And shouts could be heard distantly over the roaring engine and blaring music. Dinah had already threw herself out the window, and was conducting a trade of her own as the truck roared forward. Towards the face of a department store. Sweet Gin barely had enough time to read the "Mega Mart" sign as she tore towards the windows. The brakes went on, but the truck wasn't stopping. It was too slow.
"DINAH!" Sweet Gin screamed, blood white with fear.
"Yes?" she asked, pulling herself in to reload.
What response Sweet Gin had went silent as glass crashed and rained inward as the cab drove itself nose first into the front window. The roar of its engines echoing louder in the great cavernous interior of the Mega Mart. It bounced and sang over the ground as it swept through, taking out anything in its path and soaring over everything else. Voices screamed in shock and horror as the great missile of wanton destruction charged through.
The truck dragged behind it the sounds of crashing as the aisles collapsed on themselves. Cascading down the store in a rich domino effect, throwing disused cans to the side and smashing down over top the department store's violent residents.
The truck caught on something and bounced into the air. Coming down with a chaotic spin. The ancient tires squealing or sparking off the floor as it fishtailed to a barely graceful stop at the rear of the store.
Facing down the path she had carved through the mega-mart, with the dust barely settled, sat Sweet Gin with her foot pressed firmly down on the brakes.
Dinah pulled down on the shaft alongside the steering column. "I'll get you cover!" she screamed over the blaring music,
which had changed to something eerily familiar.
"Ok..." Sweet Gin stammered shaken. Her hands shook as she pried open the door and thrown herself out. Gun fire roared out through the wide open Mega Mart as the Prot Raiders pulled themselves together to try and make a half-assed retaliation. The dust that had rose to the air though was thicker than pea soup, and only the strongest light from the hole the truck had opened at the front of the store shone through to the interior.
Stray bullets ricocheted off the ground around her as the android staggered in a daze to the back. Simply moving without any destination as the roar of gunfire exploded from anywhere and everywhere. The strange black woman responding with her own fire-power and as she may to hold off the confused and lost defenders.
The truck as it seemed had smacked against a battered soda machine at some-point that had been carried in the hurricane of force that was Sweet Gin's driving and was catapulted through the far wall where it had opened a opening alongside the door proper. Having no where else to go and be lost within herself, Sweet Gin staggered through.
The sound of gunfire was no quieter in here. But the room was packed high with supplies and illuminated by scattered shop lights fueled by fission batteries scattered around the floor. Lining the back wall under flickering lights stood a variety of refrigerators of varyin states of disrepair and discoloration. Sweet Gin shrugged, and continued on in her lost daze to the nearest.
The fuzziness of having gotten off her wild ride was slowly fading as she reached a fridge at random. Hugging her arms around it, and hugging her metal claws into the back she tugged at it pulling it from the wall. There was a electrical spark and snap as she dragged it off of its plug.
With a deep breath and a hefty twist, she swung it around to face the opening. She counted her blessings and luck that it was there. Throwing it onto the ground and pushing it towards the waiting truck, which still bumbled and sputtered with nuclear energy. Automatic fire flew all over haphazardly, and what amounted to little attention was given to the Android as she pushed the random fridge - and its contents - to the rear of the truck.
"Dinah!" Sweet Gin yelled, "I got something!"
Dinah worked her way over to Sweet Gin. Sweat and dust plastered itself on her black face whitening it. But she wore the new mask with an energetic, wild expression. Her shoulder was bleeding from a wound she didn't seem to care about.
Looking at the fridge she nodded and she glowed with affirmation. Setting aside her borrowed weapons she reached out and forced open the back gate. "Load it up and we'll get out!" she yelled. Sweet Gin bent down and wrapped her fingers down on it.
The fridge was no less lighter than it was before. And she strained her back and legs as she hoisted and fought it up top before Dinah slammed the rear gate closed. "Go!" she shouted, running to the opened passenger seat. Sweet Gin went to the other.
With a click and a slam, the parking break was disengaged and Sweet Gin did not hesitate in speeding out of the Mega Mart. The Engine boomed as it fishtailed and rocketed outward, doing little to reverse its damages, and doing everything to make it worse; not stopping at running down several raiders as it broke out to freedom, just a handful of moments after it entered.
The truck continued to burn down the road. A deep guttural rumble joined up from under-neath, twisting through the knotted and steady roar the engine made before. A strange soft wheezing. And still the bullets raced as they sped out through the wooden barrier that was the edge of the raider's settlement. Dinah rode in the passenger seat, holding tight to the hood and one of the pistols dangling from her fingers. Her dry cackling laughter building up with the music and going airborn as the rattled vehicle skipped over what was left to stand, jumping uncontrollably as its back arced high. The fridge in the back barely secured as it slammed down on the back, forcing the truck to jolt violently downward at the sudden return of its weight.
Clear of the wooden stockades, the truck barreled down the road, escaping to its freedom as bullets bit at the heels of their escape like furious ants. But it was fruitless, doing nothing to forestall their ride.
"Go that way!" Dinah whooped over the blaring music and the roar of the engine, directing Sweet Gin down a route that was not at all familiar.
The android took it as she did any other turn, with violent rushed fish-tale that threatened to take them all out. Skidding the truck around, over-correcting, and correcting that. The ancient rubber and steel squealed in furious protest at the abuse as Sweet Gin sped along.
Sweet Gin was still tense though. Coiled like a spring ready to blow. She was still back in the chaos of the Mega Mart, even after the sound of ricochet died and all that was left was the roaring of the engine. Her body still felt weak. Her grip shaking and strange. A fluttering smile or frown danced across her face. She'd nearly took the two of them out with this. That entrance...
"Aw girl!" Dinah shouted excited, "Aw girl damn you be do great!" she cackled, "I ain't not had no fun like t'at in a long time!" she boomed with joy.
"Yeah..." Sweet Gin added softly, barely audible over the engine has she grappled with exactly what had happened. It seemed fuzzy. Almost as if she was accessing old memory logs. But there was a weight to them this time. Something beyond the simple audio and visual recordings of those events. Nothing retrospectively imposed. And what was weighing on it, was certainly from the moment.
The two ambled through what remained of Springfield, passing the darkened tombs to an era gone, or the deserts left behind by the urban recession and decay of there being no one left alive. Dinah had the android taking a different route. One that confounded her, and carried them around in a long arc. Passing the small grotesque creek Sweet Gin had passed earlier, before sweeping to Dinah's shack.
With a clang and a clatter the truck came to a rough barbaric stop outside of Dinah's shack. Sliding on its tired tires and retiring into a surrendered slouch on its suspension. Reaching over, Dinah clutched several wires from the steering column, and with a light tug the engine died as the jury-rigged connection broke. Slow clicks and a dull whine purred from under the hood as the engine ceased activity, before cutting loose with a wet vomiting burp and finally slouching with a shattering bang on the cement.
"Well I be damned," Dinah mused, looking down out the window, "I done suppose somt'in broke enough to die now."
"Oh?" Sweet Gin stammered, still glued to her seat.
"Yeah." Dinah said mournfully, "Well, it do haved a good run."
Looking over to Sweet Gin she said with a jovial laugh: "And you be whiter t'en a ghost!"
"Oh?" she responded weakly.
"Damn straight!" she cheered, "Well, if you done can unstick yourself t'en I need help." she added, opening the door and swinging out onto the pavement just a hand's width from the bottom.
Sweet Gin sat there in the cab as the old black woman went about her way, unlatching the gate to the back and opening the shack's rickety front door. There was hesitation to move as she continued registering what had happened. Slowly falling into place. Her biological nerves falling calm as she slipped slowly from the truck.
"Hurry up and we crack her open an' see what we done get." Dinah said hopefully from the door as Sweet Gin wrangled with the refrigerator.
It fell into its corner with a loud thud, causing the whole shack to shake. With a woody groan, in was slid into place, and a sharp spark snapped as Dinah connected it with a fission battery for power. Immediately, a low steady hum rolled from the machine as it reactivated. "Oh t'is done be good." Dinah crooned, rubbing her hand, "We done did teach t'em crackas a lesson."
"Do you think they'll be back?" Sweet Gin asked, full of apprehension as she leaned over to inspect the refrigerator. Its case was mired and pitted with abuse and coated in a thin film of grease and dirt. As well, a bullet had clipped into it, leaving a small black hole in the side. Despite all of which though, the old machine didn't seem to care and continued lugging through with cooling its estranged contents.
"Oh t'em crackas be pretty dumb." Dinah smiled, leaning up on the fridge, "t'ey'll probably spend the rest of the night blaming each ot'er. Saying who be to blame and be not to blame. T'en if t'ey do setteled t'at, spend t'e next month lookin' for it."
"They'll find the truck though, for sure. Won't they?"
"Oh I be not do doubt it." Dinah said jazzily, shaking her hands, "But I done have a club waiting to waste t'em iffin' t'ey do come t'is way. I keep a good watch on my property."
"Well, that's good to hear then..." Sweet Gin said softly, "So, you said you'd escort me to... this Heaven's Gate?"
"T'e Archdioceses, yes." Dinah smiled, turning slowly onto the fridge, "But let's see what we got first. Once t'e sun is down we'll head out under t'e moon's cover. T'at be alright, sweetie?"
"It will." said Sweet Gin.
"Good, good." Dinah cheered, clapping her leathery hands together and reaching out to the handle, bopping it open.
"Now lesse." she said, tossing the door wide open. The fridge opened with a soft sigh, and a palpable tension rolled out with the half-chilled air. The soft flickering amber glow of the light inside. Sweet Gin thought she could see their additional reward. A great many things, silhouetted by and cloaked in the shadow of the dim flickering light. A ecstatic giggle rolled from the wrinkled lips as Dinah as she grinned wide.
It was much. It was plenty.
It was cigarette cartons.
The excitement died with a noticeable thump as a brick fell to the floor and broke to dust. The door swinging wide open the two were presented with what would have been a life time's supply of cigarettes. That is, if they all weren't noticeably empty. Set up haphazardly on the shelves, they looked at them with mouths agape and some bright diminutive smile in their spirit.
Several stray ones slipped off from their perch and landed with a soft thud on the splintering wood. The sound of the paper and plastic meeting the floor was laughter in of itself.
"W'at." Dinah mumbled, her shoulders dropping in stunned sorrow as she looked into the amber glow of a treasure trove of used packs and cartons of ancient cigarettes.
Sweet Gin stood by confused, unsure of what to make of the event either way. "Is this good?" she asked stupidly.
Dinah dropped down to her knees as she dove her hands into the depths of the refrigerator. Throwing aside the endless sea of cartons. Throwing them aside and casting them aside to the floor. The cartons and cases flowed out of the mouth of the icebox in a tumble. Dinah grumbled frustrated as she threw each pack aside.
Reacting blindly, Sweet Gin reached down and grabbed a brightly colored box as it soared over the growing mat of cardboard as Dinah threw whatever-it-was out blindly. Sweet Gin turned it up, turning the face of the package to her. "Smithies Gumballs" the package declared brightly with yellow print on a blue field. A very happy kid with a beaming face was printed alongside, blowing a large pink balloon.
"110% irradiated for your protection!" small print said in a bottom corner.
"What about these?" Sweet Gin asked, holding them up.
Sweet Gin looked back behind her to the inquisitive android standing in the middle of the pile of empty and smashed cigarette packs. Hints of rage flickered across her face. Looking at the pack, and the android she suppressed the irritability, taking a deep breath. "Well, I guess it's all we get." she said with a weak smile, "But not not'in' I done can sink my teeth into."
"Oh?" Sweet Gin said, lifting the box up and looking at its cartoonish packaging.
"My teeth be too old." she said with a sigh.
"Oh..." the android bleated.
"Well, I be should a-look at it t'is way," Dinah started, "At least I done got me a refrigerator.”
***
The rest of the hour had been spent with Dinah silently swearing out the contents of the refrigerator as she went about the task of cleaning out the used cigarette cartons. All the while, the Android sat at her beaten dining table, looking down at the box of gumballs procured from the back of the ice-box. As far as she could tell, or knew, they looked clean. The box inside containing several dozen tiny colorful spheres of a dozen colors. Holding one up, she mused over it. Wondering.
"Do ya eat?" Dinah asked, shuffling the spent cartons into a pile outside the door. Using a broken pole to slide and beat several about around her.
"Eat?" Sweet Gin asked.
"Ye, do you be needing food?" the old woman asked again.
Sweet Gin looked at her puzzled for a second. A look of deep contemplative consideration boiling onto her face. "I don't know." she said, breaking the thoughtful meditation.
"Well have you be have stomach pains?" Dinah asked.
Sweet Gin considered for a bit. "My back hurts sometime." she said, "And my side, sometimes when the back doesn't hurt."
"Well, t'at be not stomach pains t'en." Dinah said, swatting a couple more out the door and out onto the street.
"Why would it matter?" Sweet Gin asked.
"You could be a-hungry." Dinah said with a soft smile. Looking at the sky she asked, "You be want to go?"
"Diocese Cathedral?" Sweet Gin asked.
"Heaven's Gate, yeah." Dinah nodded, "It done be gettin' dark 'nuff."
Sweet Gin looked down at her stuff. Closing the box and rising to her feet she stuffed the box of gumballs into her bag, and lifted herself up. "Yeah." she said with softened enthusiasm.
Dinah gave the android a warm smile, "I be get my club."
***
The two moved out as the sun was setting on the horizon. The long dark shadows creeping over the streets. Bands of orange highlighted the clouds as a deep dark blue overtook the rest of the sky, following by a deepening black marked with the clarity of the stars. And as the sun set, the moon rose into the sky, setting its watch on the two travelers below.
The trip as it turned out soon evolved into the same mundane routine as they snaked through the winding streets of Springfield, past the old homes left standing, or blasted into oblivion from the years. Skeletal frames standing of beams of wood or metal, barely more than dust in the wind. The same applied just as well to the tattered office buildings that lay crumbling and closed tight. Sweet Gin remarked that in an eerie sense, the city was much like that of Worcester, or the deeper parts much the same as the outer as they crawled through. Though as darkness set and an eerie silence took hold, so did its lifelessness.
Only darkness came to rule on the terrain. It was was spooky, eerie. As the shadows advanced and molded together into a single unity the thick blackness took hold on it all. Draping buildings in the same inky sheet that drained the already faded color from the scenery. And with the lack of life, so did the monotony of the voyage grow. And very quickly, Sweet Gin came to miss the old battered truck she had choked all the life from so far back.
Dinah however did not seem to mind, and lead her expertly through the streets. Her confidence showing well. Each move she made, glance thrown to the crumbling buildings around them, held court to the fact. She was the queen of these streets. Going so far as to softly sing a mumbled hymn to herself, just barely audible over the whistling breeze that wrapped through each crack and corner of the city. She did not carry the tune well, Sweet Gin observed. And she slowly found herself wishing for some other accompaniment to her coarse and sub-amateur tune. A distraction she didn't know how to add.
The coarse of the streets shifted rapidly as they drew further in with large barriers erected from stacked cars, or just pile-ups in general. A phantom of Worcester reappeared as well, in the form of a growing concentration of olive-green trucks, with the single white star painted on the doors. The sagging wrecks of the world of before. As just as in Worcester, and elsewhere, they took on the phantoms of organized purpose, just left behind to rot by their owners.
A sort of ancient, forgotten desperation came to as they entered into the city's nexus, taller structures raising up over their heads. Signs left behind, rotted and faded in the streets, pushed aside. A pile-up of cars. Old bullet markings. Something had transpired here, and the evidence lay around in open sight. The culmination of events after the fire, or the events that lead up to it?
And then suddenly, it ceased. As Dinah lead Sweet Gin across an intersection, the signs cut off. Cleaned up off the streets. Some power or influence having cleared aside the wrecks, giving a long straight shot through the streets. An eerie cleanliness in the darkness. And at her toes, ancient bricks. Roads not paved in solid stone, poured concrete, like she had known. But broken and orderly. Withering weeds had broken through, yes this was a given. But the scenic dynamics had shifted, and so did the street sides.
Withered, wilted, and charred husks of trees lined the streets, growing from iron grated holes in the concrete of the walkways. All the trees of which charred and bent from a great wind, bent west-ward. And between the hunched gnarled fingers and their twisted claws. Between the fading structures of eons passed, hiding behind the slumps of the old homes with empty barren lawns, rose a great wall of scrap and ancient wood. Cutting across the street, and forming an outer boundary that stood above the rooftops. Flickering warm lights adorned the top where the shadows of men stood, and above them the fluttering banner. Crossed keys in red, on a field of white.
"Stop and speak!" a voice shouted from the darkness as Dinah and Sweet Gin approached, the tone of his voice chilling the android. In the dim lighting of ancient lanterns, several dark shapes could be seen standing around a large chain-link gate in the impressive walls of scrap.
"I be Dinah," Dinah said, respecting the man's orders, "and I done met a andy t'at be somet'in lost."
A small bright light was turned on, hiding the silouhette of the gate keeper in its yellow glow as he he scanned her up and down with the light. The brightness hurt her eyes, and when it was shut off all she could see was blackness, save for the softer glow of those weary lamps by the gate.
"As I see." the man said, "You can lead her in."
"T'ank you." Dinah said, grabbing hold of Sweet Gin's arm as she blinked aggravatingly against the darkness.
"Let them in!" the man shouted, ordering the gate to rattle open.
Sweet Gin stumbled through after Dinah, her eyes slowly regaining their focus in the darkness and opening to the world beyond the wall. Standing back, she looked out at the post-fire community that had grown here in the center of Springfield. Much unlike what she had witnessed before, it was clean.
Though still ruined and gutted houses lined the streets, much of the car wrecks that lined the streets, and the busted and shattered remnants of the old world had been swept away. Promptly moved out of sight, or as she observed in the wall: to another purpose.
All alongside her, sweeping around in a gentle circle the multi-storied wall that guarded the community within was made of a collection of randomly reconstructed items. The hulks of cars sat strapped or nailed to the side of busted telephone polls. Scraps from other things bolted and riveted together to rise gently upwards to the upper face of the ramparts. Amazed curiosity taunted her as she looked on at the architecture, and further toyed with her as Dinah led her through like a child.
Wandering the nightly streets, small clumps of people went to and fro. Some with children, others alone. But all tired and worn. This was a silent sanctity to this place. Even in the light of burning barrels the residents conducted themselves in silence. Sweet Gin found it eerie, if strange that even the words the people passed were done so softly.
As well as them, armed men patrolled the streets. Their leather armoring and guns looking as tired as the man who bore them. Images of the men of Worcester were summoned back to her as she looked into the Wasteland aged faces, with sand-carved scars. They looked almost alike, if it wasn't for a small detail she noticed as she was dragged by fleetingly. Stitched onto their breasts, she noticed a small red cross.
The symbol puzzled her, but the child-like questions were set aside as she moved along.
Deeper into the smaller community she went, then turned down a narrow and long street. It was here at its center there rose a large structure, seemingly untouched by the bombs that hit two-hundred years ago. It was daunting to be sure, and the stone that built its large square structure had turned black with soot and the corrosion of time. And Sweet Gin observed that the windows that were had disappeared from many pockets, opening to the outside its interior, and the soft
humming of its interior. An orange glow shone from inside, holding many in its hypnotism, as Sweet Gin observed from the small crowd that gathered around it.
"Looks like we done got here at t'at time." Dinah said, stopping.
"We did?" Sweet Gin asked, looking at the crowd. The shadows of men and women with their head bowed in the light.
"Aye," she nodded, "We be give t'e father some time." she said, turning to Sweet Gin.
The soft humming of the cathedral interior rose and fell in hypnotic rhythm. Slipping into a soft chant, a solemn prayer. Then falling silent as distantly a voice echoed from the depths of the spartanly constructed church. A voice soft but echoing, that barely made it faintly into the streets. The words spoken difficult to discern, or unintelligible to Sweet Gin and Dinah at the back. But a unity seemed to have been achieved in it. At its command was a voice of confident calm, with a clairvoyant nature.
Speaking distantly, it conducted the mass to a conclusion. And in muttered unison the gathered crowd uttered their last words. "Amen." they said, before beginning to shuffle. No other sound was uttered, as a crowd of tired, worn wastelanders shuffled out and away from the doors. Looking up to Sweet Gin and Dinah passively, absently.
The two grizzled women stood back, letting them by as the crowd split on the street, going either way as they wandered back to that night's residence. Or to find a light night meal. Or something less pure by the troubled and heavy look in many of their eyes. Sweet Gin could not help but be taken by the build of the group as they came through he door. Old men, women, children. But for a reason beyond her, it did not seem that between the children and the old, there was one adolescent in the group. And in her recollections, she felt that by some chance she had seen them at some time or another; in the brothel where she once worked, or in the service of Bancroft's Host.
The last of the weary residents shuffled out of the old church, taking their tired bodies elsewhere. And taking Sweet Gin by the arm, Dinah lead her through the tall wooden doors and into the structure's interior.
What remained of the building had obviously been damaged on the interior to some force or another, and the extent of the damages that it bore well on the outside could be seen. Walking in, the pair set foot into a large stripped room, that rose above their heads the full height of the building. High above their heads, star-lit holes had opened. Impromptu sky lights, that roughly patched and reinforced by rising columns of bound ancient timbers and plumbing.
What would have been either a main hall, or a series of internal rooms were clearly burned out and torn aside, creating the deepened vault that ran to a shoddily crafted stage, decorated with a number of spare scrap parts torn from elsewhere and laid out in a rough pulpit and alter. The sides of this cavernous chamber was lined with the crisscrossing support beams that rose to the ceiling, and perhaps gave credit to its currently still-standing status. And with the walls and floors removed all throughout, it was even more of a skeletal form holding up the empty shell of the structure.
All along the edges, men dressed in patched together robes busied themselves with the maintenance of fires, candles, lanterns, and battered shop-lights that gave the spacious chamber its light. Giving general illumination, or directing it to a cross suspended on heavily rusted chains above the stage.
"
Benedicite, child'en." a voice echoed. Sweet Gin looked down from the suspended object to find a lone figure standing alongside the pulpit of scrap. Standing there stood one of the most worn and tired men she had ever seen. And nearing him, he looked all the more distressed and tired from the years.
His head had gone bald and dry. The skin hanging off of it in heavy sags and his face pocked with uncountable discolorations. Though on contrary, the old man possessed a mangled beard that was double mangled as he was, hanging to below his waste where his bony hands hung clasped together. He regarded the android with calm contented eyes, a tired smile below his bent and twisted nose. And like the rest of the men here, he was dressed in simple robes, cobbled together from a multitude of old-war clothes.
"Excuse me?" Sweet Gin asked, confused.
"We a'he all child'en in the eyes of God." the old man said with a wispy, soft laugh, "Have you been pahsent to pahtake in my se'mon?" he asked.
"I'm afraid we haven't, father." Dinah said, stepping alongside Sweet Gin.
The android looked at her confused. "Father?" she asked.
"It is mah'ely a title, child." the old man said, "Unless you a'e thinking of a diffe'ent thing all togetheh. By which I can only reg'ehtfully say that radiation has long stihpped me of that ability."
Sweet Gin blinked idly at the man, fighting to figure it out. The man saw her confusion, "I am Ba'naby." he said, waving his long fingers to excuse the struggling in her face, "Bishop of the Cathed'al of Saint Mothah's Mission of Ch'ist's Child'en. And you must be anotheh lost Synth."
"I don't know, I was told to come here, so I'm here." Sweet Gin said uneasily, "I don't know if that means I'm lost. I'm where I'm supposed to be, am I?"
Barnaby laughed, stepping down with ginger feet. "Nay child, you'eh adventeh's only just begun, benedicet.
"All those that find themselves on the rail'oaid find themselves on a lahgeh quest." he continued, "As I've been told, feh fahdom. The Mission he'ah, is but a link in one of many chains.
"I must thank you, Dinah, feh behing this lost soul fah'theh down her trail."
"It be good." Dinah said, "I be offerin' her my side of a deal."
"God bless thee." Barnaby said. Turning to Sweet Gin he redirected his concerns, "Unfo'tunately I am but an ally to the Rail'oad, but I may find the man you we'e sent to see." he said, turning to the door. His steps were gentle as he glided across the vast empty of his mission.
"Barnaby." Sweet Gin shouted out, interrupted him, "Before you do though, can I ask you a question?" she asked.
The kindly priest stopped, turning to Sweet Gin. Still wearing the soft smile. She felt save with him. "You may, caeh to walk with me then? We can talk on the way."
Sweet Gin looked over to Dinah who shrugged, then followed the android as she wandered alongside Barnaby. "Who is this God?" she asked, walking alongside the priest as they walked.
"He is but the all loving fatheh above us." he said, "Though, it is hahd to see in this wehld, but he does."
He looked over to Sweet Gin, smiling at the remaining confusion and dissatisfaction that plagued her. "He c'eated the wehld." he added, "he is the poweh that settled the chaos, and ceated o'der. Crafting it into wehld and the stehs beyond. From his 'ib and clay, he const'ucted man, as we did you, and you kin.
"And I know you'll ask," he said, "how is this made? It is complex, his will and poweh beyond my own, and many's comphension. But as we did the and'oids and the old robots of the wasteland, we ah his sons and daughtehs, and his g'and chilldehn.
"He gave the gift of life."
"What is life though?" Sweet Gin asked, as they stepped out into the night.
The priest stopped, turning to Sweet Gin, grabbing by the shoulders and turning her about. She immediately tensed at his grip as he breath freezed up inside of her. Her body stood tensed, the priest relaxing his grip and dropping his hands as he saw the twisting emotions in her. "You can move?" he asked.
"Yes..." Sweet Gin asked, uneasily shifting on her feet.
"And you can speak?" he asked again.
"Yes..." she repeated.
"And you have the pahcess to think, to have a question, if not an opinion?" he again asked.
Sweet Gin looked puzzled, looking between Dinah and Barnaby. Searching for some confirmation. "I... Think..." she said.
"And you've felt emotion?" he said again. Sweet Gin stared at him, to which he added, "Have you felt fah you'e safety?" he asked, "Had joy?"
Sweet Gin thought back to running from the ghouls, the tremors of terror at being nearly blown up... And the soft silkiness of the pajamas she had stuffed in her pack, and the sound of music on the radio. "Yes." she said softly.
"You can move, and you can speak." Barnaby said, "You can think and feel happiness and fear, if not yet love. You are to me, alive. As much as Dinah here is, and my congregation."
"Really?" she said, she felt unsatisfied. Perhaps still lost or uncertain.
"But maybe you have not discovahed the emotion of it." Barnaby said, continuing down the dark street.
"Of what?" Sweet Gin asked.
"Of life." the priest smiled, "It is othehwise to abtehct to explain fully. The wohds needed nonexistent, and too grey. In time maybe, you'll feel what life is."
"Then what is death?" Sweet Gin asked.
"The denial of life fo' anything living." answered the priest.
Though as slow as the old man moved, he walked Sweet Gin and Dinah to a towering structure, situated just at the edge of the wall that guarded the small enclave of peace. Built out of the remains of an old brick house stood a tower of scrap and wood, transforming into a mishmash of metal scrap that rose higher into the skies. The darkness of the night had shrouded the tower against the inky blackness of the sky, and even on the ground its towering spire rose invisible into the night. a domed cap appearing to float as the weak moonlight and stars illuminated off its distant surface.
"This is whe'e you' link in the rail'oad resides." Barnaby said softly, like a father, "It is the home of one Conneticut, or Connie.
"I heard him on the radio!" Sweet Gin exclaimed.
Father Barnaby only smiled and nodded, "I shall leave you to the next stage of your journey, child." he said warmly, placing a gentle hand on Sweet Gin's shoulder as he turned to leave. A chilling reflex shot through Sweet Gin's spine at the old man's touch, and she turned with apprehensive nervousness as she watched him off.
Sweet Gin turned as Dinah put her own hand on her shoulder. The old black woman looking at the android with a warm smile. "Well, I done always wanted to have been meet Hollering Connie." she said, "Le's go.”
***
The building had a livable air to it. Though motes of dust descended through the cold air, the remnants of the home within had been patched over and made tolerable. A certain amount of care had gone into lighting it with what meager resources the tenant had. Though dry, there was also an aromatic smell. A sweat sort of scent.
And on top of it all, there was the music. Though subtle and in the background, it was present. Weak from poor speakers, or playing from muffled locations. It played from where the home groaned and greeted Sweet Gin all the same. Dinah had opted to sit outside and wait, while Barnaby had returned to whatever his evening duties were. Thus leaving Sweet Gin to stand in this sanctuary.
In the corner of her vision, her navigation marker flashed enthusiastically and dance in and out of view as the android moved and turned through the home. Peering into each room for a hint of the owner's presence. All the while finding nothing except for the trophies of his living: stacks of ancient albums piled into every corner of the home, and piled into the dusty stiff furniture. Ash trays full to the very brim in cigarette smoke. Empty soda bottles and piles of packaged food containers lay haphazardly in one particularly dimly lit room.
As well, faded and aging posters of nameless and long-dead performers hung from the walls, no doubt covering holes or stains by their erratic placement. One some though, Sweet Gin could read out the names of some performers. Dean Domino seemed to be popular, by the sheer number of concert and album advertisements that littered the halls, alongside such forgotten figures as Marguerite DeVille (who Sweet Gin observed in some strange distant way, looked like her). Entranced by the trappings, she soon forgot she was lost, and chose to ignore the flashing navigation icon that would occasionally and sporadically glide into view.
"Hey, hey!" a faint voice said, garbled by the decay of static. Sweet Gin flinched and she turned about. Her insides turning and mind racing as for a moment she feared she was trying to be taken over. But calm sailed over on smooth waves as she realized that the electrically mangled voice was external, "This he'ah is yo' good pal Hollhein' Connie, Childehn!
"I hope you liked that last song, it's one of my pahsonal favorehts fahm the ve'y own Dead Domino.
"Now sit tight listene's, because the music will be right back. But fahst: today's passing news... Today we've ha-"
"What are you doing here?" an annoyed voice cut in, startling Sweet Gin back to Earth. She landed with a jump, giving a faint squeel as she fell against the dry paper of the wall.
"Who are you?" she asked, panting.
Standing on the far end of the hall was a skinny motley man with long combed back locks of hair falling about his face. Sharp brown eyes measured the android up and down with uncurbed unenthusiasm. A soft supple sneer ripped through his lips as he balanced a bent out of shape cigarette on his swollen bottom lip. "I'm just an assistant." he sneered, balancing a stack of records under the arm of his arm. He wore a faint blue vest over a grimy dress undershirt, with a tie to match.
"Assistant?" Sweet Gin asked.
"Yeah, it's my job. Don't wear it out." he said sarcastically, moving ahead to deposit the records in one of the side rooms, "Now what do you want, we run a tight ship so be snappy, broad." he yelled, as he went about setting things right and gathering up a collection of records at random.
"I'm just here for the railroad." Sweet Gin said nervously, tapping her fingers together with a weak smile.
"Well welcome to The Station!" the man said with tepid cheer, "So do you want a cookie, or do you want to see the man upstairs."
"Well... I..." Sweet Gin stumbled, "I dunno?"
"Typical fucking Andies." the man sneered, lifting up a new stack, "They don't know shit for the first week they're out here.
"So listen up, if you want to give me a damn blowjob then I'll be happy. But I'm no use. So come the fuck upstairs to see the big dig and he'll treat you to his candy dish, alright?"
"Well, ok..." Sweet Gin said softly. To be honest, she didn't want to give out any blowjobs as much as the man didn't seem to want to have one.
Snickering, the man pushed his way passed her, arms laden with records and Sweet Gin followed him up the creaking wooden steps and onto the next floor.
Here on the second landing, "homely" was hardly the word to use. Here, all conditions of a home were dismissed and burned outside the window. Here, the new residents seemed to have gleefully took to wrenching much of the building's non-necessary equipment turning it into a single massive landing. Between the still standing and graying support beams of the house's super-structure, arrays of duct-tapped computer banks sat in long rows with thick arm-width cables and wires running across the floor, and nailed up into the ceiling. Winding and twisting they made like pythons to a far corner where they crawled up into a hole to another floor, or the ceiling crawl space. Large beams of metal had been precariously stabbed into the floor, and bolted to the walls and ceiling. Clearly making the supporting base of the lattice-work radio tower that stood from the house's ceiling.
A multitude of lights of different strands and styles hung about the ceiling. From tiny crystalline Christmas lights to large, bulky, industrial shop lights. All casting a warm glow on every part of the building as weak fans rattled and hummed, desperately circulating the dry air through the banks of computers.
And at the far end of the room, a small wooden chamber sat with a door and glass window. Suspended on small blocks of wood, it was free and unanchored from the rest of the building. Inside, in the frosty glow of florescent lighting sat a darker skinned man - not quiet black, but not white - sat talking into a microphone. The assistant made his way to the room, stopping Sweet Gin with a sharp angry look.
Balancing his records under a single arm, he softly opened the door, briefly letting out the enthusiastic roar of the man's voice as he talked about ghouls. Then it was silenced as he entered in.
For a moment, the man knelt over and started whispering into the man's ear and pointing as he went about preparing the record deals.
"I see you met Horse first." a voice said. Sweet Gin again jumped with a sudden startle.
"It's alright girl, I ain't gonna bite." the voice laughed as the android turned to meet its owner. A heavier set man with a balding head. Beads of sweet dripped down his brow and his enlarged chin.
"Horse?" Sweet Gin asked.
"Yea, he's a bit of a pain in the ass. But the little bugger gets things done." he laughed, watching the recording booth as the man named horse scrambled out. Inside, the other man must have stopped speaking as he went about putting in records into his machine for a block of music.
Sweet Gin didn't know what to say as Horse stepped out. He gave her and her new company a disapproving glare before sulking over to a set of machines by the antenna braces.
"It's not like any of us have any stories." the big man said with distant nostalgia as he watched Horse get to work, "We picked up that boy when he someone tried to sell him to Heaven's Gate. Ol' Connie offered to buy him, despite the insistence of Barnaby that we don't do slaves. His owners - or whoever - were about leave in spite of us."
"So, is that why..." Sweet Gin said, drifting off as Connie stepped out of his booth. A tall skinny man with a portly, rounded face. He was lined with a certain expert degree of experience in the wasteland, folding up his caramel skin.
"Oh, hello..." Sweet Gin said, picking back up on the situation with a shocked start.
"Good evening sisteh, I'm Hollahin' Connie." said Connie, introducing himself with a wide grin and extending his arm for a handshake. Sweet Gin looked down at it puzzled, and afraid.
"Oh it doesn't mattah none anyways." laughed Connie, withdrawing his arm, "I see you talking to Big Pete."
"I... guess..." the android stammered, looking between Connie and Pete, "And I guess I was supposed to be here?" she asked.
"Well we ahe just anothah link in the chain of the Rail'oad." Connie smiled, "So we're obliged to help you out howevah I can. And I got plenty of time, I made sure to put in enough music.
"So how a'he ya an f'ahm whence did you come?"
"I- I dunno." Sweet Gin asked weakly, "And from?" she asked nervously.
"The Boston area?" Connie asked.
"Yeah. Why?" asked the android.
"Depending on what you did o' wheh you came f'ahm could detahmine how we get you going out."
"I- I don't like to think about it..." Sweet Gin said weakly.
Connie raised an inquisitive brow, "How so?" he asked.
"I, well, I was raped, a lot. I guess..." Sweet Gin said quietly, shirking off away from either of the men, "... for a man named Scrap Daddy..." she mumbled.
"I see." Connie nodded, "Well, thahe's no reason to be nehvous. We won't pahss it any 'Ahdah."
"How was you trip?" Pete asked, "Any encounters with the Retention Bureau then?"
"Well... I uh... Think..." Sweet Gin sheepishly started, thinking back to Worcester and the fight with Vinny. She rubbed at the straps of her pack, where barrel of Vinny's "Smile" rifle stuck out from, "I did... Is this bad?"
"Jesus gehl you just made it fun..."
"What's making this fun?" Sweet Gin asked naively, looking between the radio DJ and his assistants with a lost look.
"Genahlly gehl, we would 'ather a Bureau agent was killed since it only makes the Institute mad." Connie started, a heavy air hung on his voice, "We don't get many Andies who had killed an agent. But when they do..." he DJ trailed off, his hand nervously stroked the back of his head. Turning to the side he stared off distantly.
"Have you perhaps seen anything strange?" Pete asked, putting a gentle hand on Sweet Gin's shoulder. A nervous rigidity ran cold through her spine as she was guided to the side. Pete sat her down in a beat up chair as he knelt down alongside the android.
"Had anyone speak to you without being there?" he asked.
A dark wave of realization sailed over her. Sweet Gin's eyes brightened and she dropped them, biting on her bottom lip as she remembered that voice. The specter she had maybe seen. "Maybe?" she nervously shuddered.
Pete raised his head and gave a solemn nod. "You got The Man on ya then, girl." he said in a low morose tone.
"So long as she's within Heaven's Gate though he can't touch he'." Connie said. Sweet Gin was confused, and it was reflected well in her expression in a distant vacant stare. "We got a counter signal to him," the DJ explained, "Usually we can get it across all of Spangfield but it's weakened up some this past week and Hoahse has been t'ying to fix it. Right now, it's died off to the the ah'ea a'ound the Mission."
"And I could do more for it if I could actually do something but pick up records, you son of a bitch!" Horse snapped from the far end of the room.
"Can I help?" Sweet Gin asked.
"When was the last time The Man accessed you?" Pete asked.
"Uh..." Sweet Gin started uncomfortably, shrinking back in her chair, "I guess... yesterday..." she said shyly. Her face shone a paler shade of white as the ghosts of those needles plied into her skull.
"Bitch won't be able to do it." Horse growled from the back, "It'll be a week's job at most of troubleshooting and The Man's already zeroed in on her here. And the Institute will have her back and her systems restored before we can finish up."
"Hoahse has a point." Connie said, "As much as I would like to ask, I'm going to have to say no. You'eh going to need to get out fast.
"Can you get anyone to help you along?"
"I got... Dinah..." Sweet Gin said.
"Damn android, this isn't the time to eat!" snarled Horse.
"No- no, Dinah's a person I met coming in." Sweet Gin quickly defended.
"So some raider fuck then, all right." shouted Horse, "Well all the more power to you and your junkie."
"B-" Sweet Gin started, offended.
"Ignohe him." Connie said, "How long has The Man been after you?"
Trying to think about it was frightening. She lowered her eyes to stare at the cold cement floor. Subconscious phantoms sputtered within her, echoing the taunting of that voice, the cold, flat, emotionless sneers of it. "A couple days... I think." she whispered softly, "But I might have seen him three days ago."
"Where?" asked Pete.
"The Woo, or something." she said nervously, "As I was leaving."
"I see." Connie said tersely, raising his hand as he chewed idly on a finger nail.
"What if we send her down the Connecticut?" Pete asked, "She can make greater ground on that river then she would if she walked the existing railroad."
"The next stop wouldn't be until New Yahk." the DJ said.
"It's where she'd end up anyways before going to Virginia or The Eries." said Pete, "And if she stays off the beaten path enough, she'll be able to elude The Man long enough for him to lose her trail."
"I can see whe'e you'e going." Connie said, his eyes glowing, "Sweet Gin, can you get this Dinah gal to escort you along?" he asked, "It'll be helpful. And if The Man does anything deeper she might be there to help keep you controlled."
"What do you mean?" a fearful Sweet Gin stuttered, "C-controlled?"
"If he can get through deep enough," Pete started, "he could feasibly take remote control of your body and walk you back to Boston. Someone else there might be able to keep you restrained, or even terminate the signal by force.
"And by that, I mean temporarily overloading you." he continued to explain, "The computer brain works on two directions, a binary system of off and on. An android's systems has a third direction to replicate the human existence. It is a third dimension, if the binary is the second."
"But all the while compatible to binary code." Horse said distantly.
"That too." Pete said, "The Man can take control of the binary aspects of your systems and hijack you. Though the third added dimension can be responsive and thwart any future attempts after a successful accessing of your audio, visual, and motor functions, a man of his capabilities and experience can keep getting back in. It may take longer each time, and harder. But every time he does so without interruption, he gets deeper.
"If you are ever contacted by him, the communication needs to be terminated quickly." the round man said.
"By that, he means total system shut down." Horse explained.
"A pulse grenade is a pretty quick if clumsy way." Pete shrugged, "But this Dinah may be able to do it without any training. It'll just hurt and leave you knocked out for a hour or so until the fail safes trip off and restore activity."
"Pulse grenade..." Sweet Gin muttered softly, thinking back to that last time.
"The confused signals may also back feed back to him and fragment some of his software on whatever mobile terminal he uses." Horse added.
"But either way, it's a temporary fix."
"But you still need to go." Connie said, "Rail'oahd stations are not full time residencies. You'ee still in 'each of the Institution, and we'ah he'ah to get you out of it. And if you want, I can get you something to get you down the Connecticut."
Sweet Gin looked up at Connie, and the rest of the men. Horse gave her a sour, if pitying look from the terminal he presided over. Nervously, she smiled. "I suppose so..." she said.
“So, any mo'e questions?” Connie asked politely.
“I... guess. Maybe.” Sweet Gin shrugged nervously, “I, well... There are recordings, or something in my head. What are those about?”
“As advanced as the Institute is, they need a base for their android OS.” Horse said from his terminal, “And what's left from the war is plenty of that, all of is sourced to RobCo products. There are some other smaller shit. But they're fucking hard to come by or fucking military as shit.
“There's this fucking group, call themselves the enclave. Those fuckers got what's left of the old military shit. But I'm digressing.” he mumbled, swearing.
