DIARY OF A WATER PURIFIER:

EP3, WE GET SIGNAL

So I'm off to GNR. It's a radio station. I've heard the dude talking, and he's okay, his news is okay, and his music is pretty good, for the most part. Moriarty tells me, or more accurately his computer tells me, that dad's gone off to the station to get the skinny on the haps. I set off into the city, killing raiders, cockroaches, ants, and ROUS's as I go.

As I'm passing a grocery store, this kid runs up to me and tells me the monsters are gonna get him, and asks if I'll help him. Sure, kid. I'll follow you. Let me just get my gear together... you go run and hide, I'll be right behind you! As the kid runs off, I snicker to myself. Sucker. There are no real monsters in the world. What, am I gonna hide under the bed from some, like, I dunno, a giant scorpion, or a huge green guy wielding a fire hydrant? Get real, kid. Strength to weight ratios would clearly prohibit such a creature from existing. Not to mention that as you increase mass, you increase the strain on the internal calcareous structure, or even a chitinous exoskeleton, to the point that the creature would collapse on itself. Galileo wrote about this in the 16th century, for god's sake! I laugh with scorn. Huge monstrosities don't exist, kid, and never will. Grow a backbone.

Through the wilderness, into the city, down through subway tunnels, and I wonder, if dad just came through here, why is it still full of bad guys? He must be the sneakiest sonofabitch ever in the history of the world. I thought he was just a doctor. I've killed more raiders and feral ghouls than... uh, something else that killed a lot of things. Look, I've killed a lot, okay? Enough with the metaphors and similes. They're like... these things... that are metaphorical. And simililical? Enough.

Up the other side, and there are some big green guys. I... uh, Bruce Banner? Hello? No? They're carrying sledgehammers and rifles, and they are mad at me for some reason. Lucky for me there are these big robots here with bigger guns. After a moment of examination, they turn out not to be robots, but instead people in suits of powered armor. I want one! This metal-encrusted vault suit suddenly seems so goddamn inadequate! With a suit of power armor, I could survive a point-blank nuclear blast, I'm sure! These guys are called the Brotherhood of Steel, and they're lead by a woman, which means that they should probably be called the Siblinghood of Steel, but I'm not complaining. Don't complain to people covered in three inches of tool steel and wielding big guns, that's my motto.

There's a dead Brotherhood guy lying on the ground here, and next to him, on the ground, not being guarded by anyone, in plain sight, ready for the taking, just let me sidle on over here and grab it, is... a free suit of power armor. Yay! I'm just gonna slip this on and huh? Training? Crap. Will... will you guys train me? No? I can't even ask for that right now? Okay, I'll just... hold on to this. For a while.

So these Brotherhood guys help me wipe out the green monster guys, apparently called Super Mutants, as opposed to Regular Mutants, who use their powers to guard a world that hates and fears them... or something. Anyway, these Super Mutants die pretty easy when they're up against power armor and big guns, and we make it through an abandoned elementary school to Galaxy News Radio. Everything seems quiet, nothing's wrong. Just a few more mutants to kill, and I can go inside.

Hmm. That super mutant seems to be a tad larger than normal.

...

...

...

Holy fucking shit, batman.

That's a big mutant. If the others are super mutants, this one is a mega-mondo-hulk-mutant. Galileo was full of shit, the evidence is right before my eyes. I'm thinking I'm going to head back in the school building and take potshots at him with my trusty BB gun from a distance. The only other option is to go stand our ground, go full-bore, toe to toe, throw all the lead we got... and maybe we'll get a lucky hit. A brain shot. I think I'm gonna let the brotherhood handle this one. I certainly can't do it. It would take a direct nuclear strike to scratch his hide. No, actually, considering that he just BLEW UP TWO BUSSES WITH HIS FIST and it didn't even faze him, I'm pretty sure a tactical nuke wouldn't do the job.

After a few minutes, the guys in power armor finish off the big green dude, and I can head on inside. The DJ, Three Dog, is a friendly sort of guy, who wants only to help out the poor and unfortunate people of the wasteland, of which I am ostensibly one. He is sympathetic to my quest, and offers straight away to tell me where my dad went. All I have to do for him is repair his radio equipment by finding a satellite dish in a super-mutant infested museum clear across town, then take the dish to the Washington Monument and install it on the roof. Simple, right.

One question nags at me, Three Dog. How come you didn't get my dad to go after the dish? Or, you know, anyone else in the entire world? Or did you, and did they die? Is that why you won't tell me where dad went, did you send him after your precious bauble and he's now lying in a shallow grave? Even if no, do I look like I belong to a courier service? Is "rube" written on my forehead? Go fuck yourself, I'm not doing your dirty work. You want it so bad, YOU go get it. What's that? Can't leave the radio station because people wouldn't hear your voice? Dude, I've listened to your broadcast. You just keep playing music, and your "news" consists of the same six stories, over and over. I'm not falling for that one, try again. What do you MEAN, it's too dangerous for you to go? Is that argument supposed to convince me? Gee whillikers, Mr. Dog, if you, the guy who has a vested interest in getting the dish and saving his own livelihood won't go, I guess I'll head right on out there! No. I'm not playing fetch for you. I'll make you a deal - you tell me where Dad is, and later on I'll come back here and get your dish. No? NO?!?!?

Look, doggy. I'm short on time, I'm angry, and I'm armed. Tell. Me. Where. My. Dad. Went.

He didn't tell me where my dad went.

Standing outside GNR, wondering where Dad went, I turn on my radio for a while. The music still plays, but now there's a new DJ on the station! Fancy that, Three Dog must have retired or something. She doesn't give any news, just the music. The calm, soothing music. For some reason, it reminds me of the staccato burst of fully automatic weapon, and the feeling of happiness as an entire clip of bullets ends a source of frustration. I smile, at peace with myself and the world. Maybe I'd be happier if I had actually blown up Megaton.

Well, I guess I'll head on to the next big town around here. Rivet City. I'd judge that I'm catching up to my dad, now. Unless he took up Three Dog on his quest to get the satellite dish, in which case I may find his corpse somewhere. Still, it'll at least bring some closure to the whole deal. Rivet City, here I come.

NEXT EPISODE: THE CITY OF RIVETS