When I got back to Concord, Preston, Connie Abernathy, Stef Ainsleigh, and Trudy had already gathered there to discuss my plans. I could tell that some of them weren't very enthusiastic about starting a war with Kellogg's mercenary outfit, and I'd have to do some convincing to get this plan rolling. Before that part of 'the talk' started, however, they took some time to fill me in on developments during my absence.

 

The hacked ASAM units had worked well, and all of our settlements had been able to put in place better defenses. While both the Minutemen and our local guards were still having issues with occasional raider activity and - more rarely but also more troublesome - super mutant incursions, those confrontations had shifted in our favor to the point that some of the less ambitious raider gangs seemed to be looking for greener pastures.

 

 

Since Vault 81 had lifted its embargo campaign against us, Trashcan Carla had been able to start running supplies to and from Diamond City again. This alleviated one source of strain on our settlements - especially Concord - but introduced a new one by slowing down the frequency of Carla's visits. As a result of that experience, Trudy had set up dedicated weekly caravan from the Drumlin to Concord, and initial reports were that it was working well.

 

We continued to attract new immigrants, and while it wasn't a flood, the pace seemed to be increasing. Lily had been helping arrange for housing, but she concluded we needed to expand our green zone inside Concord to allow us to convert more buildings into residences. At the same time, clean water continued to be a challenge; even with regular shipments drawn from Abernathy Farm's large and clean aquifer, the rooftop farm was only operating as a result of rationing. The rainwater collectors had proved to be a feast-or-famine type situation, and the town needed a more reliable, regular source of clean water. Jake had suggested that the DRM-protected ASAM files might contain plans that could help us, and he'd promised to make this his second priority, right behind the comm hub.

 

On the topic of the rooftop farm, Dean had arranged a shipment of marble from the quarry as she broke down the trailers in the marshalling yard, and Cassie has been feeding the material into the workshop and spitting out very nice-looking marble cladding that she'd been using to enclose the farm. This had apparently had the side effect of putting too much weight on the roof of the building, and they'd had to reinforce the load-bearing walls, a process that used up a lot of valuable materials. Cassie recommended that I dedicate resources to a plan to completely renovate that building to guard against any future issues, and I told her to draw up a plan for my approval.

 

 

Speaking in plans for approval, Dean submitted her request to move the guards' families into the quarry, and I approved it after giving it a cursory read-through. The plan was well thought through and conservative on risk, and I wanted to explore the potential of that site. She also included a personal note expressing her great surprise at the directions the ASAM had given her for the large barracks building and cryptically stating that it was "worth all the overtime." She ended with an invitation for me to visit again in the future and check in on their progress. Preston had his own ideas about the quarry, and had suggested I transfer their guards to the Minutemen. He was impressed with Dean and her crew's ability to operate independently and believed they could be valuable as trainers for his new force. I took the idea under consideration without making a final decision at that time.

 

And as far as the Minutemen themselves...

 

"We made contact with the small farm on Tenpines Bluff," Preston explained, "and it turned out that you have an imitator."

 

"Well, they do say that plagiarism's the most sincere form of flattery," Nick observed.

 

"Really?" I asked, "what do you mean?"

 

"There was a raider boss in Lexington who'd been uniting the various gangs in the city, and he was starting to push his reach out further, looking to set up his own little kingdom. From what the settles at Tenpines told us, it sounded suspiciously similar to how you were running Vault 111's territories. Except, you know, the slavery and cannibalism parts."

 

 

"I notice that you're using the past tense when you talk about this raider. Is he no longer a threat?"

 

"I put together a small team of my best people and we slipped into Concord. The farmers at Tenpines let me know about a ruptured water pipe that was big enough for someone to squeeze through, and we infiltrated the raider fort in the old automotive plant. I'd hoped to snatch him and bring him back to Concord, but we had to settle for putting a bullet in him when reinforcements showed up. Either way, Jared is out of the picture and there's a minor civil war going down in Lexington between the raider gangs. I don't think we need to worry much about Lexington in the near future."

 

"And the Bluff?"

 

"Firmly on our side now. We stationed a small detachment of Minutemen there to watch over the rail line, and... well, that's your wheelhouse, Trudy."

 

 

She nodded and finished for Preston, "I'm working with Tenpines to set up a relatively safe route they can use to send food back to the Diner, which we'll then distribute to the other settlements. And we'll send fertilizer, building materials, and creature comforts back on the return trip."

 

"Good," I said. "Are they suited up, or is this another Ridge situation?"

 

"The vault suits are going to be in the first shipment they get. At first they were more interested in just aligning with the Minutemen, but after our first meeting at the Diner they agreed that they wanted the full benefits package. Especially, they emphasized, one of your famous security walls."

 

"I take it Winter's already working on it?"

 

"She grumbled about it delaying the Abernathy homestead again, but she's already started the fabrication plan."

 

"Good, sounds like we've got our priorities straight there. And Preston, good work. Make sure you thank your team for me - that's the kind of action everyone's looking for from the Minutemen."

 

"Thanks, I'll do that. We keep pulling off stunts like that, we'll need to start thinking about designing medals for the boys and girls."

 

"I agree," I said, "what are you thinking? Reviving old U.S. medals, or designing something now?"

 

He paused, thinking. "That's what I'm hung up on, to be honest. My first thought ran to using the old medals, but I don't know... we're doing so many other new things here, maybe we should find new ways to celebrate it too. I'll think on it."

 

"That's fair. By the way, Trudy, what colors did Tenpines choose?"

 

"Green and white," she explained, "for the trees and the rocky cliffs. By the way, that'll be the uniform for civilians at Bedford Station, too. Preston and I talked, and while it'll be a Minutemen base, Bedford Station will be in the Tenpines 'city limits', so to speak, from an administrative perspective."

 

 

Stef nodded at that, "I like that idea, kind of like the setup with Concord and Sanctuary."

 

"Speaking in Sanctuary," I said, "how are things going there, Stef? And more broadly, where's Bart?"

 

"Sanctuary's fine," Stef answered. "She'll never replace Winter, but Trudy's a good mechanic and she's keeping everything running just fine. We're also slowly moving forward on the last couple of buildings. My goal is to be able to bring in more immigrants by the end of the summer. And as for Bart? He sent his regrets, but he's dealing with some kind of situation up there and couldn't make it. I guess they're trying to pump water from the purifier up to the top of the ridge so they don't have to haul buckets, and it ran into some kind of last minute issue."

 

I nodded, "I understand that. Seems like water's on everyone's minds these days. Maybe once we secure the old country club, we can exploit Farrar Pond to bridge the gap."

 

"I'm glad you mentioned Farrar Pond," Preston said, "because that takes us right into our main discussion: the Highway Plan. I don't object to it - hell, I came up with it - but I need to be sure this isn't solely a case of us putting lives on the line over a personal matter."

 

 

Even though I knew Preston was raising a completely legitimate point, it hurt a little to hear him say it so bluntly. I think that was the first time I really questioned my hard stance on the 'Queen Charley' question. In the end, however, he was basically just speaking for my own selfishly-silence conscience, and after a moment I nodded and answered.

 

"I'm not going to pretend that my search for Shaun isn't part of the equation here," I started, "but there's a bigger problem we have to consider. I know I've talked to all of you in varying levels of detail about my fears for Boston and the eastern part of the Commonwealth."

 

Connie nodded, "the domino effect."

 

"Yeah, exactly. So the bad news I have for you is that I now believe the collapse has already started. Fiddler's Green fell to super mutants about a month ago. As far as I know, there was only one survivor. Forest Grove has either fallen, or it's completely cut off from the caravan routes. Oberland Station, which is our main safe link to Boston, has no, I repeat no defenses, and we encountered Rust Devils on the rail tracks only a few miles south of them. And on that topic, the Rust Devils are moving eastward towards Boston, displaced by Kellogg's mercs. At their current rate of movement, it's a matter of when, not if, they threaten Vault 81. We have to slow things down, or we're looking at a scenario where Diamond City is cut off from us - and when that happens, and their only safe trade route is through Goodneighbor, then I believe Goodneighbor will embargo them to force political concessions, especially on ghoul rights issues. I don't think Diamond City can survive an embargo under those conditions, even if they immediately capitulate to the demands."

 

Preston took in the news, stone-faced. "That's a very unpleasant read on events, Charley," he said at length. The others had similar reactions.

 

"That's why taking Kellogg out of the picture has importance beyond just trying to find my son. As much as I despise the Rust Devils, they were part of an equilibrium that has now been disrupted. We need to halt their eastern migration, and the main driving force behind that is the mercenaries at Fort Hagen. Vault 81 won't and can't do anything about them. Their new guard force is poorly equipped, poorly trained, and basically - they're a joke. Moreover, Hagen is deep inside our sphere of influence. We just can't count on any support from them. This is our problem and we need to clean it up."

 

"Well, it's obvious from the map that our first step is to take over Sunshine Tidings - you're familiar with it as the old Nashawtuc Country Club. But where we go from there is a serious question we need to consider. We're talking a lengthy campaign, by the way - I think we're looking at the war being over by Christmas."

 

I spat out a short laugh. "In my time, we said, 'never trust anyone who says the war'll be over by Christmas.' But I agree, this will be a whole new level of effort for us. This is going to be the Minutemen's trial by fire."

 

"It sure will," Turdy agreed. "You'll need to give Preston more than just Dean's garrison if you want this to work. To reach the minimum critical mass of veteran soldiers, I think you'll need to turn over all of your 111 guards to his command."

 

 

"That's risky," I considered, "we can't leave the settlements unprotected."

 

"And we won't," Preston said, "those experienced guards will mostly be working as trainers, but their days of just standing around at guard posts are over. They need to work with my small core force of Minutemen to enlist and train many more members."

 

"That make sense," I conceded, "and maybe it's for the best that we not have two parallel militaries in this territory. To answer your earlier question about a strategy for attacking Hagen, normally I'd want to isolate them and then defeat them in detail. That probably means kicking the raiders out of Natick, which will be a significant undertaking in its own right. I've scouted the base itself a little when I was down that way, and there are many breaks in the perimeter wall. As long as we can put the mercs at a disadvantage, we can get at them. If we can build a strong enough spearhead, a pincer attack from Fiddler's Green - we'll need to kill the super mutants there first - and Natick could win us a foothold, and then we just need to go step by step and reduce them until they abandon the fort. That's where we enter the last phase: preventing an orderly escape so we can capture their leader, Kellogg."

 

"You're assuming Kellogg's the leader," Nick said, "the Rust Devil who told you that might have been wrong."

 

"That's true," I agreed, "but if Kellogg has a boss there, I'll settle for capturing them, too. The main thing is, our goal isn't just to evict the mercenaries, it's to capture their leadership so we can understand why they were there and what they were up to. And, not incidentally, where they took my son."

 

Preston studied the map, a deep frown creasing his face. "What about supply from the west? The Natick-Fiddler plan seems to leave a large hole right there."

 

"I'm pretty confident that the Rust Devils - who have their own beef with Kellogg - will keep that area locked down. It's a gamble, but is lets us deal with each threat one at a time instead of trying to take on the mercenaries and the Devils at the same time."

 

Connie scoffed, "it's a good idea on paper, but I don't think the Rust Devils are going to cooperate with you. Those vicious fuckers will stab you in the back whenever they see a chance."

 

 

I nodded, "so what's Plan B?" 

 

"Relieve Forest Grove if they're still holding out. Otherwise, avenge them and turn the site into a base. That'll drastically hurt the Rust Devils' freedom of movement, and no incidentally it'll give us control over the dams. That opens another caravan route to Diamond City for us, and if we're lucky it might even stop the raider migration in its tracks."

 

Preston looked at Connie with newfound respect. "You've got an eye for strategy, Connie."

 

"Naw, Preston, just an eye for logistics. And no matter what you shooters say, it's logistics that actually wins or loses wars."

 

"The only problem is timing. If we commit to an early move on Forest Grove - maybe even a first move - we might indeed relieve the settlers there before they fall. But on the other hand, Forest Grove is a big commitment and it'll delay every other aspect of our plan, other than maybe taking Sunshine Tidings. On the other hand, if we wait to attack, there's less and less chance we find settlers still alive there, and end up in a posture where we have to organize a large civilian contingent to recolonize the site."

 

Stef spoke slowly, thinking as she voiced her idea, "Bart told me he's getting very good results with his convict farm. And we're sure to end up with a lot of prisoners as the campaign progresses. Maybe put them to work - whether it's helping the settlers at Forest Grove repair and rebuild, or if it's restarting the settlement from scratch?"

 

 

The whole convict labor situation still didn't sit well with me, but I grudgingly acknowledged that the idea had merit. "It wouldn't be my first choice, but I can see the justification. Preston, do you think this can work?"

 

"We'll still need a core group of citizens there for anything you can't trust the convicts for - which is everything other than manual labor, really. And we'll need Minutemen to keep an eye on the prisoners above and beyond ones to guard the settlement. But it could work."

 

We talked about the logistics a little further and hammered out the core of our strategy. We'd abandon the attack on Bedford Station for now, as well as the plan to set up an observation post on the outskirts of Lexington. In doing so, we were accepting the risk that the raiders would sort out their differences faster than we expected or, worse, that they knew the Minutemen were behind the raid and that they'd come looking for payback. However, we decided that was unlikely and decided to move forward with the new plan. I'd lead a scouting party along with Piper and Nick to secure the old country club. At the same time, Preston would take a squad down to Walden Pond to clear out a small raider encampment in the old visitor center. He'd then set up an outpost there to control the pond until we could set up water purification and storage facilities. Both settlements would, ultimately, serve as clearinghouses for supplies going south to the troops, while sending water north to Concord and its satellites. 

 

From there, we'd move to relieve Forest Grove. We decided to bypass Fiddler's Green for the moment and let Kellogg's mercenaries have to deal with the super mutants on their doorstep. Our priority at Forest Grove would be to relieve any surviving settlers, then secure the routes over the two dams, giving us a direct supply line from Diamond City to what would become our front line. During this phase, Preston and I would probably need to engage in some diplomacy with Vault 81 to ensure that our efforts to control the dam weren't interpreted as an erosion of our deal about staying on our side of the Charles, but I was fully prepared to commit to only allowing Minutemen on the bridges, and keeping all of the Vault personnel in Forest Grove. Best case scenario would require no 111 folks at all there, but I wasn't counting on the 'happily ever after' scenario based on what I'd seen recently.

 

Finally, we'd swing west into Natick. As much as it pained me, this was the part where we might have to cut a deal with the raiders who called that place home. After discussing it with my impromptu war council, we agreed that in the short term, we were willing to accept Natick's continued status as neutral ground, even if we had to revisit it in the future. The key point we'd insist on would be no trade to points north without us having a chance to inspect the goods and confiscate any contraband - in this case, supplies headed for Joint Base Hagen. Once Natick was under our control, Hagen would be encircled, and we could begin our operation to destroy the mercenaries.

 

The meeting broke up around three o'clock, and I started to trudge back to my apartment. Because everyone had been waiting for me when I arrived, I hadn't had a chance to even change and take a shower before they whisked me into the museum - the future Minutemen headquarters - to talk shop. Now, I was ready for a nice soak, followed by a nap. 

 

Of course, it wasn't that simple. Doctor Cain was waiting to ambush me on the way home.

 

 

"Ellison," she said, "how long are you going to be in town?"

 

"Honestly? No idea. But probably not long."

 

"That's what I thought. Colonel Garvey told me about the incident with your foot - and with the situation with your eyesight. I really need to examine you and also do some blood work before you leave again. Can we do that today? At a minimum, can we do the blood draw? I need to make sure you're OK for travel."

 

"I feel fine," I commented, then growled, "except for being exhausted. I was on on the road all last night and then in meetings all morning. I need a nap."

 

"Fine, fine," Cain compromised, "go get a couple hours sleep, then come to my quarters, upstairs over the hardware store. But don't forget, this really is important."

 

"OK," I agreed. "I'll see you in a few hours."

 

Cain almost didn't get to wait that long. When I got to my apartment, I almost - almost, I came so close - opened my window and started screaming for her to get over to my home right away. My nice, albeit fake, wood floor had almost been totally torn up, except for a little raised section my bed was resting on (after having been obviously moved). The rest of the floor had been tiled over with white ceramic. My shower stall had been torn out and replaced with his-and-her (or in this case, her-and-her) shower heads with floor drains. There were several new pieces of furniture, including some admittedly comfortable looking couches. 

 

But the part that stood out the most were the large surgical lights hanging from the ceiling over a pair - a pair! - of torture rails dead center in my room. If it hadn't been for the rails, I might have assumed that this was Winter's idea, or even Lily's. The couches looked great, including a purple one I swear I'd never seen in any of the dozens of times I looked through the Workshop catalog. The raised bed platform was a nice touch, and I was pretty sure Piper and I would really enjoy the new shower setup (as long as the how water supply could hold out with two showerheads in action). But the torture rails? The surgical lights? That had Susan Cain written all over it in giant red comic sans letters, followed by three exclamation points.

 

 

"Blue?" Piper asked, as she crested the stairs, "what happened to your bedroom?"

 

"I'm pretty sure Susan Cain happened to my bedroom," I answered. "Something we will be discussing at length during my appointment with her this evening." 

 

"At least she didn't mess with your bed," Piper pointed out.

 

I grumbled a bit, not quite ready to accept her assessment. "She still moved it."

 

"She just moved it a little bit. And I like how the bed platform is raised up a little. Makes it feel all fancy."

 

"And what about the jack-and-jill torture machines? That feel fancy too?"

 

She laughed ruefully, "I have to admit, I'm not sure if I'm so hot about that. I think you'll need to get me pretty drunk, or at least really horny, before I give that a try." Glancing over to the shower, she added, "now that I like."

 

I couldn't disagree there, and we both took a quick rinse. After toweling off, Piper practically chased me into bed, though neither of us had the energy for sex. We just cuddled for a little while until I drifted off to sleep.

 

 

Piper woke me up two hours later, and somewhat reluctantly I started making my way to Cain's office. As I was leaving, I heard Piper asking, "hmm, what's that?" and I called up the stairs to her in question.

 

"Someone left a box with my name on it. Let me see... oh!"

 

"What is it?"

 

"It's a vault suit... with a utility belt for my camera and my... stuff. I'll try it on while you're having your appointment, then you can tell me how you like it."

 

"I like that idea. See you tonight sweetie!"

 

"Looking forward to it, Blue!"

 

Cain had apparently requisitioned Jake's rooftop balcony and turned it into a little nest for herself. While it was cobbled together from junk, it actually looked rather comfortable, and I imagined it would only get moreso as we rolled into summer. By winter, that would be a different story, but I suspected Cain had a plan for that as well.

 

 

"I have to salute the designers of your vault suit," she said, "it manages to provide a great deal of protection while still giving me access to almost every part of you I need to examine. I'll let you know if you need to disrobe, but I think we'll be fine."

 

"Before you start, Susan," I said, deliberately using her first name, "can you explain to me how my apartment transformed into a surgical ward while I was gone?"

 

Her face positively lit up, "oh, do you like it? They really tore up your building when they reinforced the walls, and I was talking with Lily about how they were going to take advantage of that to replace that plastic shower stall with a really nice open-air tile shower, complete with floor drains and twin heads."

 

"Hmm, Winter was my first suspect for that part," I admitted.

 

"She helped too - the raised bed platform was her idea - but," she smiled proudly, "it was my idea to tile the whole room instead of just the shower."

 

"Isn't it going to get cold in the winter?" I asked her.

 

Cain almost giggled, "that's the part I'm really proud of - I had them put radiant heating coils all around under the floor. When the snow starts, you'll have the warmest home in town."

 

"Damn," I said, "that's nice. I wanted radiant floors when I bought the place in Sanctuary Hills, but every plumber we consulted said it would melt the linoleum. Hold up, you're distracting me. What about the ceiling lights and the torture rails?"

 

"Oh, that was my idea too. I was very impressed with the heights of pleasure you were able to reach when I was helping you fill up your suit's reservoir. I had already taken out the rail to make some more improvements, and I asked Winter how hard it would be to fabricate another. She was like 'not hard at all, toughest part's the vibrator' and showed me the different parts in the catalog. Even my improvements to the vibrator itself were easy. So I figured if I could do one, then I might as well do two. That way if you and Piper wanted to play together, you could... and maybe you'd let me try sometime?"

 

 

When she asked that last question, her whole body posture changed. If you've ever met Cain, you know that she's hard to read sometimes, but this time the shy, bashful, mildly embarrassed discomfort was crystal clear for my eyes to read. It's funny, coming into her little nest I was kind of angry. For the second time in recent memory she'd invaded the privacy of my home, and this time she'd overseen major changes without getting my permission. On the other hand, it felt like her motives were almost childlike in their purity. This wasn't an intrusion... OK, yes, it was very much and intrusion, but I think from Cain's point of view this was a very thoroughly thought through and heartfelt gift.

 

"And the surgical lights?"

 

"The lighting in your room wasn't great before. The windows cast shadows everywhere and there wasn't enough in terms of other light to counteract it. I had a hard time observing your physiological reaction when you were on the rail last time. Those lights will avoid that problem in the future. And, speaking as your doctor and as a scientist interested in your unique biology, I hope you'll let me watch occasionally when you use the rail in the future."

 

"You know, Cain, I feel like I should be throwing you out of town for this stunt, but I just can't bring myself to be angry with you. So... we need to talk about this another time but consider yourself not completely shut down on that score. Though, you better talk to Piper too and make sure she's OK with your plans."

 

 

"Speaking in Piper!" Cain interrupted, "did she like her new vault suit?"

 

I cocked my head a little, not sure if I should believe what I was hearing. "You were behind that too?"

 

She nodded enthusiastically, "I've never really been interested in clothing before, but when I worked on the environment suit I found it to be such an interesting problem. How to keep it comfortable and mobile without losing the snug fit, for example, and I thought it would be a good challenge to modify a vault suit to meet Piper's needs. Has she tried it on yet?"

 

"She had just found the box when I was leaving. She said she'll show it to me when I get back."

 

"Please bring me along? I'd like to see her reaction."

 

"Um, sure. But I have to ask, Cain, are you all right? You seem... giddy. I've seen you deep in your work before, but it hasn't been like this."

 

"I think it's from being away from my colleagues so far. You may not realize this, Ellison, but Concord is just full of positive energy. It's... refreshing. But let's look you over, shall we? First let me get at those pretty veins of yours. I want to see if there's anything unusual in your blood."

 

And so that's where we started. Blood draw, hair sample (she had to plush from my eyebrow since I'd been keeping my stubble under control pretty well), cheek swab, then an experimental squeeze of my breasts to see if I was lactating. When no milk came forth, Cain frowned a little.

 

"Here I was hoping you were expressing. Would you mind if I injected you with some prolactin to help things along?"

 

"Let's... table that for another time."

 

She frowned, "and the Skene's fluid assay? I'm confident I could do it quickly."

 

I sighed. "I know we've talked about it before, but what would you learn from this?" 

 

"Well that's the thing, no one really knows. It needs more study. Of course, just like prostate fluid in a man, it can help profile for cancer risk and it offers some insight into the immune system, but there just aren't enough systematic studies. I know you said to start small, but you could be the first."

 

I smiled, shaking my head, "never giving up the search for knowledge, huh? I know it disappoints you, but let's skip that one for now also. How about we follow up after this little war I'm throwing. Six months?"

 

Cain pouted, "I suppose. I'm sure there are others who I can start with. But if you'd been willing... people would follow your lead, Ellison. Sometimes I feel like you don't understand just how much of a role model you are."

 

I rolled my eyes. "What's involved with this... assay?"

 

"Very little, I promise, and in fact I guarantee you'll enjoy it."

 

"Go on..."

 

"OK, first I need a urine sample, but I needed that anyway. Then I'll insert a small silicone plug into your urethra - sterile and well lubricate, I promise. It'll just keep you from getting pee mixed in with the sample. Then I'll massage you to draw out the Skene fluid and collect it in a simple container. And then you're done."

 

"Fine," I sighed, "but I'm only doing this on the off chance that peeking into my immune system might help figure out what's going on with my body. But I'm not inducing lactation, that sounds like a recipe for me ending up too sore to go on my mission."

 

"I understand," she conceded. After taking my urine sample, she directed me to lie down and get comfortable, legs slightly spread.

 

 

"OK, hands off your vulva," she said, "I don't want any foreign substances getting introduced." She proceeded to wipe me down with something that made my skin feel cold - probably rubbing alcohol - and a moment later I felt something very large and smooth start to push its way into my peehole.

 

"I had this fabricated in the Workshop based on the size of the catheter your suit uses, so it shouldn't stretch you too far beyond what you're used to. This one tapers from 6 mm at the tip to 12mm for most of its length, and then has a 14mm retaining ball. There's a safety trough at the end so you don't need to worry about it getting sucked in." As she talked, I could feel the plug quickly grow and start to feel very big as it slid into my bladder.

 

"How large is the catheter on the suit?" I asked.

 

"It uses a 24 french catheter, which is about 8 mm. I thought that was interesting, since conventional wisdom is to use a 12 french catheter on women, but I suspect, like it's length, that it's designed to ensure constant stimulation."

 

"Wait, so I'm used to 8mm, and you chose the 12mm model for me? It feels, really oh!" I gasped as she put on a little extra pressure to clear the retaining bulb. "Ah, I think it's poking the back of my bladder."

 

"Oh, yes, they only had a unisex model in this size, so it's about five and a half inches long, Since you just peed it'll touch the back, but I figured you were used to that from the way your suit is configured."

 

"You realize that the suit is designed to deliberately make me uncomfortable, right?"

 

"I know!" She said enthusiastically, "that was a really fascinating breakthrough they made in developing the link between bladder urgency and generalized alertness. But in any event, you're all plugged up now, so let's get that fluid, shall we?"

 

I felt her wipe me down again, this time with some kind of absorbent cloth, and then I heard a buzzing noise, just a moment before the vibrator touched my clitoris. 

 

While I squirmed, she kept talking. "Your clitoromegaly is fascinating, incidentally. Looking just at your clitoris, you're clearly in Prader stage 2, but I don't see any signs that your vagina constricting or merging with your urethra. Was your clitoris like this before you participated in the Vault-Tec experiments?"

 

This was torture, but it was like the opposite of the rail. Instead, imagine being constantly stimulated while someone managed to make dirty talk into the most boring, intellectual conversation in the world. It felt like it took me so long to cum, and finally as I was going over the edge I just screamed, "oh my God Cain just shut up!" before I let out a shriek as my muscles started to spasm.

 

When they subsided, I could feel some gentle poking around my peehole and just inside my pussy. A moment later, Cain stood up, a vial of milky fluid in her hand, and walked over to place it on a shelf. 

 

"You did really well, Charley. Was the orgasm good? I hope so. I think that'll be an important draw for volunteers."

 

The sex might have been terrible but the orgasm had indeed been intense. I had to catch my breath for a moment, before answering, "that part was good, but if you're going to talk while you get me off, you need to talk dirty. The science lecture just wasn't what I needed to get heated up."

 

"Hmm," she answered a little sharply, "interesting. I hadn't thought of that. Back at school I always enjoyed listening to my colleagues talk about their latest work when we were having sex. It invigorated them and ensured that I didn't get distracted. But I suppose everyone's different. OK, now try to relax while I unplug you."

 

Cain applied gentle pressure to tug at the plug until the retaining ball left my bladder and squeezed its way through my urethra. As soon as the ball came out the other side, the rest of the plug slid out with a rather pleasant gliding motion. I was expecting for a gout of pee to follow it the way it tended to when I had the powersuit catheter removed, but it felt like everything stayed in this time.

 

"Why is it that I pee myself when the powersuit catheter comes out," I asked, "but you pull that giant thing out of me and I don't?"

 

Cain considered that, "I think the main reason is that the powersuit forces you to keep a significant amount of urine in your bladder at all times. That goes back to the whole 'constant mild discomfort' idea. Also, its tube is ribbed all along its length, so its a much more stimulating experience to insert or remove it, which probably encourages muscle spasm in the bladder. Finally, you normally wear the catheter for an extended period of time, so your urethral meatus has relaxed and is used to being slightly open from the presence of the catheter. This plug, even though it's larger, doesn't have any of those traits. You'll probably feel an urge to urinate once the dopamine hit wears off, since your kidneys likely released some watery discharge as you approached orgasm, but that volume isn't enough to cause incontinence."

 

I cocked my head a little. "You have a way of explaining my intimate parts that's... interesting, but completely unsexy."

 

"What can I say?" she asked with a shrug, "it's just the way people talk where I live. Especially my friends who do mechanical biology, they're very up front on these topics."

 

"Mechanical biology? That's a new one to me. Is that like cybernetics?"

 

She paused, and her face seemed to freeze for a moment. "Well, it's an emerging field, and we're kind of tight lipped about it. But basically it's in the name... a mechanical understanding of biology. Unraveling the human machine, you could say. But we're not done yet, back on your feet."

 

From there we went through a much more conventional physical, listening to my breath - she commented that the cutouts on the back of my suit made this very convenient - testing my reflexes, doing a simple eye test, that sort of thing. Then Cain removed a scalpel from a drawer. 

 

"What exactly are you planning to do with that?" I asked, immediately suspicious.

 

 

"I'd like to make an incision to test your emergent healing ability. I'm pretty confident this won't leave a scar, but why don't you hold our your arm so I can make the cut under the elastic part of the suit. That way if it leaves a mark it'll be kept under your clothing."

 

"Cain. Seriously. Is this necessary?"

 

"Would I do this if it wasn't?"

 

"Yes."

 

"Fair, fair," she admitted, "but this time it is. I need to time your healing effect under controlled conditions to understand it. I want to see if there's a delay before it starts, and then understand the speed it propagates at. Honestly, I'd like to cut you open repeatedly and then take a tissue biopsy to check for signs of cancer, but I think the Skene's assay should give a good initial read on whether or not there's an signs of presymptomatic cancer."

 

"Fine," I said, extending my arm, "do it."

 

 

Cain pulled back the elastic band to reveal the inside of my shoulder, then proceeded to make a series of light, shallow cuts that culminated in a rather deep incision that began to liberally well blood. After the second or third little slice, it really started to sting, and I winced with each cut. Then, there was a sudden gush of blood, and Cain put down the scalpel and started her stopwatch.

 

"Did you go to deep?" I asked, morbidly watching blood gush from my arm.

 

"No, just right. Now that we've opened your brachial artery, we just need to monitor your body's response."

 

"You opened my fucking artery?!" I shrieked. If I had my sidearm with me I might just have shot her. I shivered as another gush of blood exited my body. "Cain," I said with urgency, "I think you need to staunch this bleeding."

 

"Don't worry, Charley. That rail spike caused much more damage. If it wasn't for your healing you would have died before you got to my office. Just calm down and let me observe."

 

"I am calm!" I shouted, "I am also bleeding to death!"

 

"No you're not," she said in a dismissive tone as she clicked her stopwatch. "Look, the artery has already closed." True enough, no more blood was gushing. "Now let me clear away the blood so I can measure the wound closure."

 

I yelped as she rubbed the wound clean with some sort of peroxide solution, and then watched as the incision got thinner and shallower with every passing second. At last, Cain clicked her stopwatch again and proclaimed that I was fully healed. 

 

"This is incredibly valuable data," Cain said, "would you be willing to come back periodically and let me run more tests? Maybe on more locations? As you can see, this didn't leave a scar. If we could understand the mechanics of your healing, it would let you make more informed decisions about risky behavior."

 

"Let's table that for..."

 

"Oh, also, while I've got my scalpel out, would you like me to cut off your prepuce?"

 

"My what?" 

 

"The hood over your clitoris. It gets so large when you're erect that it must be uncomfortable."

 

"Doctor Cain." I said with great control and deliberation. "For the next six months, I do not want you to ask me, even once, if I want you to cut off any of my body parts. I do not want you, with or without my permission, to open any major blood vessels. I do not want you to extract exotic bodily fluids, or even ask if you can. We will talk again at our follow-up visit in November. Until then, I am caught up with my preventive care. Do. You. Understand?"

 

Cain seemed to deflate a little, then I saw an odd mix of emotions cross over her face. Frustration, anger, shame, and finally sadness. "I'm sorry, Charley. Is it OK if I call you Charley?"

 

"As I've told you many times, it's what I prefer."

 

"Charley, I'm not good with people. And I get so excited about my work. Will you forgive me for going too far?"

 

Her puppy-dog eyes made it really hard to be angry with her. "I forgive you, Susan. I just need a break from your treatment. I still want to know about my test results and, when I'm in the mood, I will consider your request to watch me play on the rail. But let me give you some advice: if you want to be successful with the research you talked to me about before, especially the unconventional aspects, then I strongly recommend you cultivate mindfulness about your level of excitement. When people go to a doctor, they expect professionalism and competent confidence. When you become... ecstatic... carrying out your work, people may mistake that for..."

 

"Insanity," she finished. "Yes, my adoptive father offered me similar advice. But it's hard, Charley. I want to share my passions with people, and it's so hard to deal with when they don't get as excited as me about learning and sharing knowledge."

 

"Tell you what, Susan. And for the record, we're on a first-name basis now. If you feel like you're having a hard time handling things, or you're feeling down because you're struggling to share your passion in a way that works, come see me and we'll talk. I will always be open to you as your sounding board."

 

Her face scrunched up a little, despondent? Despondent, I thought. "But you're away so much."

 

"I know. It goes with the job. But when I am here, I'll make time for you. I promise."

 

"Thank you, Elli- uh, Charley," she said. "That means a lot to me."

 

"OK," I said, noticing that the sun had set a while ago, "are we done for today? I want to go see this suit you made for Piper."

 

Cain's confidence seemed to bound back and she said with a smile, "you're all set. I'll try to have your test results before you leave on your next mission."

 

If Cain had been giddy that evening, Piper was giving her a run for her money. She struck and alluring pose as I gained the top of the stairs, wiggling her boobs in my direction. "If I do say so myself," Piper pronounced, "the doctor's prescription was one hundred percent correct."

 

 

I took a moment to appreciate her while she elaborated on the suit's features, "it's got eyelets for all my stuff," she pointed at the little bits of writing equipment that she normally hung off her corset like good luck charms, "and it has a place to hang my camera, and best of all it has a fuckin' utility belt," she patted the sides of her suit where among other things, she'd hung a lucite chip with a picture of a much younger-looking Nat suspended in it. "It's like I'm the motherfucking Silver Shroud, Blue!"

 

"And best of all, now I can run my fingers through that tight, curly bush whenever I want, without having to get into your shorts first," I added.

 

"Shit, Blue, you're gonna make me all wet talking like that," she cooed.

 

"Well then find somewhere to get comfortable, because I just had the most unsatisfying orgasm of my entire life and I need a redo."

 

We almost made it to bed, but quickly I found myself bent over the workbench with Piper's fingertips tickling my pussy from behind.

 

 

"I don't know, Blue, what's going to get you off the hardest tonight?"

 

"Ugh, get something in my ass, immediately," I grunted.

 

Piper whispered, "your wish is my command," and after sticking a spit-whetted index finger in my twitching anus and wiggling it around a bit, she donned her strap-on and slid the dong up my back passage in a single stroke.

 

 

I sighed in appreciation, pushing my but back towards her and widening my stance so she could thrust in all the way. She didn't waste the opportunity, adding more strength to her strokes and bringing our bodies together with the slap of skin on skin. Speaking in slapping, she apparently read my mind and landed a hard palm on my rump, her rubber gloves imparting a satisfying sting and report. 

 

"More," I mumbled, "keep going!"

 

 

Piper alternated between reaming my ass and spanking me raw, letting me fully wallow in the sting and tingle of both very different stimuli. It took a while for me to get over the edge, but she kept up the pace until I stiffened, rising up as I pushed off on the bench with my fists, groaning as my pussy spasmed and my ass tried to crush the firm shaft of the dildo with intense contractions.

 

 

As I pulled myself off the rubber cock, I felt a rush of relief, somewhere in-between taking a really satisfying dump and hitting the buzz off some top-shelf artisanal cannabis after a long dry spell. 

 

"Fuck, Piper, you know just how to scratch my itchy spots, don't you."

 

"What can I say, baby, I'm an investigative reporter. I'm an expert at ferreting out your secrets. But I don't think we're done yet, are we?"

 

I did indeed know how we played our little game, and I got down on my knees in front of her. 

 

"Hands behind your back, Blue," she commanded, before running her fingers through my wig and then tossing it onto the bed. "I want to feel your smooth scalp while you clean every inch of my cock."

 

I obeyed her instructions, and Piper lightly ran her fingertips all over my scalp while I cleaned the stinking, horribly sweet residue off the toy that had so recently been in my ass. Evidently the hyper processed sugar substitutes in the Sugar Bombs we'd had for breakfast just before getting to town had worked their way through my system, leaving a slurry of undigested erythritol for me to choke on.

 

"Ooh, is it awful?" Piper asked. She held me fast and took a more active role in the cleaning, slowly rocking her hips forward to push the strap-on deeper into my mouth. After a couple of strokes, she finally withdrew it, checking it to make sure I'd thoroughly cleaned it.

 

"That tasted like the most vile lollypop ever created," I admitted. "I blame the breakfast cereal."

 

Piper laughed, "well, that wasn't the answer I was expecting. But you did a good job on cleanup, my love. Are you ready to get some sleep, or do I need to go another round with you."

 

"Ha," I weakly met her laughter, "I think I've had enough. That little nap this afternoon just didn't cut it."

 

"Fine, fine," Piper said, stepping out of the strap-on harness, "I'm a little tired too. Come on," she said, leading me to the bed.

 

We slid on together, but an impulse caught me just before I lay down, and I rolled on top of Piper instead, meeting her lips in a forceful kiss. We writhed, fondled, and entwined - both our bodies and tongues - for some time before I tried to adjust position a bit and managed to bonk my knee on Piper's camera. I hissed a suppressed curse, but carried on, leaning in for another deep kiss. 

 

 

I gradually started to roll to my right and Piper started to struggle a little. Backing off, she slid back a bit and said urgently, "careful, don't crush my camera!"

 

I laughed, "so that's what I whacked my knee on. OK, let's roll the other way."

 

"OK, baby," she whispered, and I adjusted until I was lying on my side, cuddling her. We shared a few more kisses, gradually slowing until the long day finally caught up with us. Despite all the mental labor of the war council, and the sundry shocks and annoyances of my medical checkup, Piper's tireless affection was just what I needed, and I slept like a baby right through sunrise.