I needed a nap after my therapy session with Doctor Cain, but I only rested for maybe an hour before rousing for a snack and to continue the conversation about my health.

 

"How did you feel after talking about your experience with the cabinet?" Cain asked. 

 

"Honestly? Too early to say. But in any event it's probably healthy to talk about my feelings."

 

"That's true," she agreed, "and since I'll be traveling with you I'd like to continue having these talks regularly. Is that all right?"

 

I nodded slowly, "some of these feelings are tied up with my... relationship with the Institute. Are you comfortable talking about that?"

 

"How did you put it? Too early to say? But I'm willing to try if it'll help you feel better."

 

Curie added, "I would be happy to listen if you need to talk about matters that you cannot share with Doctor Cain."

 

 

"I appreciate that, Curie. I guess this'll be a 'learning by doing' exercise, and I suppose that's fine. But you two said there was something else you needed to talk about, other than my mental health."

 

"Yes," Cain said, becoming a little more animated, "the Neodymium. I've been talking with Curie at length about the risks your bioaccumulation might pose to you - she has a much stronger understanding of toxicology, and she's pointed out a few factors that I failed to account for before."
 

"Such as?" I asked.

 

"First and foremost," Curie responded, "your mood swings and depression, if not actually triggered by the poisoning, are likely made worse by it. Rare earths in general can have a sedative effect on the central nervous system."

 

"Which brings us back to trying to understand where the chemicals are coming from."

 

"Exactly," said Cain. "I think we talked before about trying to find medical imagining equipment to look for a foreign object in your body - a reservoir or implant that's trickling out the metal into your bloodstream. Did I talk to you about the most likely site?"

 

I tried to remember. "Kendall Hospital, right? In Cambridge?"

 

"Good, you remember. I'd like to lead an expedition there, and for you to accompany. In the best case situation, we'll find workable equipment there on site and we can examine you immediately. But if that fails, I want to salvage whatever we can and bring it back to Concord."

 

I considered her proposal for a moment, before deciding in agreement. "That makes sense, but I can see some potential pitfalls. First and foremost, if you're planning on doing a complex examination, I don't know if I can bring my powersuit. Cambridge is in pretty rough shape - it might prove difficult to get out of, and then back into, the suit."

 

"I thought of that," Cain acknowledged. "Ideally, we'll be able to establish a base camp near the hospital that'll give us a safe place to change gear, but there's no guarantee of that. I'll bring my suit, of course, but I think it would be best if you asked Winter Ainsleigh to come with us, and if she used your suit."

 

"I think that's the right approach," I agreed. "The other issue is time. I think you've got the right idea in setting up a base camp and, I assume, having some people accompany us there from Concord?"

 

 

"Yes, that's what I was planning. I've already talked to a few of the local scavengers who are excited to help us obtain resources from the hospital."

 

"Is the cabinet going to approve this?"

 

Cain shrugged. "Do they need to? They might be getting up in your business a little more than you're comfortable with, but you're still in charge, right?"

 

"True. But that does touch on my last concern. The cabinet wants me to keep looking for Shaun, and it's not just them bossing me around. There's kind of a, how do I put it? You know about the Charlie First people?"

 

Cain nodded, "oh yes, they're a fascinating study in ethnography. I helped Sienna get the dose right on her birth control mixture - their philosophy is strange but rather kind, don't you think?"

 

"I think it's... weird and a little uncomfortable to be the object of a cult. But the cabinet has a point - the longer we go with no pregnancies, the longer before we have any new adults in the population."

 

Cain shrugged again, "I mean, you're getting plenty of immigrants."

 

"But we can't count on that forever. So I'm kind of with the cabinet on this one. I need to keep pushing to find Shaun. That, or I need to get pregnant, and I'm not really excited about that prospect."

 

Curie flapped her buzz-saw arm when I said that, "and you should not become pregnant until your blood chemistry situation is better understood. The excess of Neodymium in your body could adversely impact fetal growth."

 

"Fair point, Curie. But what I was getting at is that we can't just spend six months picking through the hospital. We need a map, or a sensor, or a guide - something like that."

 

Cain smirked, "I'm a step ahead of you on that one. I've been in radio contact with a wastelander who knows the area and who's willing to guide us through Cambridge and help us get into the hospital."

 

"Didn't your last attempt at negotiating with wastelanders end up with your crucified?" I pointed out.

 

She scoffed at my comment, replying, "this time I checked her bona fides. She has a reputation for honest dealing - in fact, her day job is working the caravan circuit selling 'medicine.'" I could hear the air quotes in Cain's voice, "but she told me she's been wanting to take a break from trading for a while, see the sights, that sort of thing. She was eager to work for us as a guide."

 

"OK," I said, "sounds like you've got this all figured out. So what's the plan? We collect Winter and the scavvers and just head down to Cambridge?"

 

"That's the basics, yeah. Want to help me get suited up?"

 

After we stored my powersuit for moving, we decamped to Cain's office and I helped her don her suit. Cain left off the helmet for the moment, though I remembered to insert the butt plug this time, a process that Curie watched with some interest. We left the green zone just as dusk was settling in, and made it to Abernathy Farm in the early evening. 

 

 

Last time I'd been at the Farm, Piper and Winter had bundled me into the farmstead before I could really take a good look around. Now, walking in at a more casual pace, I could see that while I was out fighting Kellogg, Blake and Connie had done a good job improving and renovating the farm. Notably, I observed that they'd acquired another brahmin and expanded the size of the pen. It also looked like they'd started the process of replacing some of the brick planters on the west side of the farm and in general - while the farm still had some room for improvement - more of the buildings had electric lighting. 

 

Stepping inside, it didn't take too long to find Winter, and I embraced her. After a quick kiss, she said, "hey, Charley, I didn't expect to see you back so soon. What's up?"

 

 

"I'm going on a road trip," I explained, "and I'd like for you to come with me."

 

"Ooh," she smiled, "I'd just been thinking of taking a little vacation. Where are you going? Somewhere fun?"

 

I grimaced, "Cambridge. The hospital there, in particular."

 

"Not really the greatest neighborhood," Winter observed. "What has you headed back there? Trouble with the Brotherhood?"

 

"Fortunately no. Doctor Cain needs some specialized medical equipment, and there's a hospital there she thinks might have what she needs."

 

We talked through the details, first over dinner and then in bed, and Winter seemed enthusiastic about the project. That struck me as a little odd, given how she'd been so scared about me going off to fight Kellogg, and I tried to probe gently on the subject.

 

"I still don't feel great about you going out just to fight," she explained, "but this is different. If your health is on the line, you had to do this, and I have to help you. Besides, I've been spending a lot of time with Lucy and seeing her lifestyle has made me... a little more open the kind of risks you take. But I still expect you to keep safe. And that's all the more reason for me to come with you and help."

 

At some point, Lucy Abernathy joined us, and the conversation gradually steered away from the expedition to Cambridge. Lucy was... not very excited about her mother's marriage arrangements for her.

 

"If you don't want to do it," I said, "I'm sure we can make some other arrangement."

 

Lucy sighed. "No, that's not it," she explained. "I actually really like the idea of spending my life with Winter. And you... you're Charley. You're the whole reason all of this exists. I'm honored to be part of your family. It's the leaving the Minutemen that bothers me. They're like family too, now, and I know that was part of why my mother dreamed this whole thing up."

 

"For what it's worth," I said, "this resigning business might be temporary. Once Preston has a firmer foundation under him, it won't be so important to avoid close ties with the Minutemen. So be patient on that score. Things could change."

 

"I hope you're right," she said. "So, are you as wild in the sack as Winter is?"

 

I laughed at the abrupt change of subject. "Only one way to find out, right?"

 

At that point, the strap-ons came out and some bedroom play commenced. We started out taking turns, but pretty quickly it settled into Lucy and Winter double-teaming me. I wouldn't have expected it from her petite frame, but Lucy Abernathy liked to play rough. She wrenched my hands behind me in an uncomfortable pose, putting my weight on my shoulders while the pounded me. At the same time, Winter kept my mouth - and more often than not my throat - filled with a fat purple cock. The whole experience was pretty intense, and I wondered if this was just a small foretaste about what was awaiting me once the cabinet finished assembling their harem.

 

 

We cuddled for a while afterwards, and I was just about to shut my eyes when a thought came to me. Rolling over, I faced Lucy.

 

"So, who's turn is it today?"

 

The Abernathy daughter chuckled. "Winter mentioned she'd told you about the game. Technically, as the new arrival, it's automatically your turn. But I'm a little curious what the mighty Charley tastes like... so if you need to go, I won't relinquish my place."

 

I raised an eyebrow at that, looking over to Winter. "What do I taste like, Winter?"

 

She thought on that for a moment, before answering. "Ambition, inspiration, and love." 

 

"Hmm," I said, "that's an interesting brew. Ready for a taste, Lucy?"

 

"I've always wondered what inspiration tasted like." She rolled over on her back, parting her lips. "Come over here and show me." 

 

After Lucy had greedily drunk down the contents of my bladder - and thoroughly licked my pussy clean with long, gentle strokes of her tongue, Winter came over and made her own contribution. I could swear that I heard Lucy's stomach gurgle like one of those Poland Springs machines, and Curie clucked mechanically in disapproval.

 

"Consuming that amount of urine could expose you to high levels of salt and excreted chemical contaminants. You may want to reconsider that aspect of your romantic encounters."

 

And yes, if you're wondering, that was the point when I became aware that Curie had been watching us the whole time. She'd turned off her hover jet and her headlights and just sat there by the door to Lucy's bedroom, peering.

 

"Curie," I asked, "you're a bit of a voyeur, aren't you?"

 

A little indignant, she replied, "nonsense, I am only gathering data to understand human relationships in this century. My interests are entirely scientific."

 

"Well, as long as you two don't mind..." I looked to Lucy and Winter. Winter shrugged and Lucy just giggled a little. "Alright then, with no objection, feel free to continue gathering data, Curie."

 

"And you," I continued, addressing Lucy, "need to hold your water in the morning. We're going to need plenty of fresh piss."

 

When morning came around, Cain started helping Winter into the powersuit while Lucy and I filled up a large IV bag with urine. I handed it off to Cain, who connected it to the suit's catheter and squeezed every drop into my lover's bladder until her eyeballs were floating. Winter looked extremely uncomfortable by the end of her 'fill-up,' but I didn't feel a lot of sympathy for her. After all, this was fair payback for the treatment she'd given me last time she helped me suit up. After a few final adjustments, Cain turned a few dials on Winter's backpack and then put on her own helmet. 

 

"Alright," Cain said, "we're ready to go. I made some adjustments to Winter's medical system to account for your increased drug tolerance. That way, we won't dose her too heavily... speaking in which, we need to talk about that some time in the future. I made some adjustments to the medications in your suit, and they aren't having the results that I expected."

 

"Do you think it's related to the Neodymium poisoning?" I asked.

 

Cain nodded, "that's my suspicion. But it might also be related to something more systemic that we haven't identified yet. Your unusual healing factor, for example; we still don't understand its mechanism. And who knows what other aspects of your metabolism are altered. So let's go find that scanning equipment."

 

Winter and I bid farewell to Lucy, then we started east towards Tenpines. Cain's guide was going to meet us at the Wildwood Cemetary in Winchester, then lead us south on a route that should bypass the most dangerous parts of the route. 

 

 

As you can probably guess, the trip to Winchester was far from uneventful. Just before we reached the Drumlin Diner, an actinic flash drew my eye to a group of burned out cars that were blocking the road. Moments later, a squad of synths was charging towards us, laser bolts hissing and snapping past us. Fortunately, I'd given my shotgun to Winter and the spike thrower to Cain, so the three of us were able to match them on good terms with firepower. 

 

 

After the synths were all destroyed, I took a moment to survey the remains while Curie checked on each of us. Winter had been knocked over in hand to hand combat with one of the synths, but other than being disoriented she was OK. The medical system had already dosed her with a Stim-pak and she was quickly regaining her feet. Cain had got through the scuffle without a scratch, but as Curie approached me I heard her give a little gasp.

 

 

"Charley," she said, "you're wounded."

 

I turned to face the robot, confused, "where?" I asked, "I didn't feel anything?"

 

Curie closed the distance with me quickly, then zipped around me. I tried to turn to face her but she ordered me to stay put.

 

"You have a serious third-degree burn on your lower back. I believe a laser must have struck you on the open part of your suit."

 

I reached back to feel at the area she was describing, and my hand came back, wet and sticky. 

 

"Shit," I said. "I didn't feel a thing."

 

Cain had joined us now, and I felt a sharp pinch on my back.

 

"What did you just do?" I asked, and Cain showed me an orangish clump of tissue that she'd gripped with tweezers and, seemingly, yanked off of my back.

 

"Your body is already healing the burn, Charley," she explained, "but I was able to remove a tissue sample." As she spoke, Cain put the lump of cooked flesh into a stoppered vial, "when we reach the hospital, I'd like to try and analyze this sample for clues about your healing ability."

 

"Be my guest," I agreed, "but I think we better move on. The wound isn't bothering me, and I don't want to be here when a second wave comes in."

 

Curie insisted on putting a dressing on the wound before we moved on, but once that was accomplished we pressed our way to the Diner, and then beyond. We bypassed Lexington by hooking north past the old drive-in theater, then followed the rail tracks about half way to Bedford. For the most part it was an uneventful journey, though we did see some signs that might be the leavings of super mutants. I made a mental note to warn Preston that Bedford might be harboring more than just ghouls.

 

From that point, we crossed under the I-95 overpass and out of the territory that Concord controlled. Of course, theoretically everything east of here all the way to the ocean was part of our sphere of influence, but from this point on it was a paper distinction. The Minutemen didn't roam through these parts yet, at least other than the occasional scouting party. Consequently, we made sure to stay alert for trouble. 

 

I should probably mention at this point that the bulk of the expedition - the scavvers and their guards - weren't traveling with us. They were assembling at Graygarden and would take a more direct route to the hospital when we signaled them by radio and confirmed the immediate surroundings were clear. So for the moment, it was just the four of us: me, Winter, Cain, and Curie. Well... soon to be five of us. Because we reached the cemetery without any further difficulties, and good to her word, our guide was waiting for us.

 

She was a fairly young woman, maybe in her early 20s, and she'd come down from the cemetery to meet us at the nearby crossroads. The woman flicked away her cigarette as we approached, and I was amused to see that even though she was outside the I-95 line, she'd adopted an outfit that - mostly at least - complied to the dress code. Yes, she was wearing some body armor that technically wasn't allowed in Concord, but otherwise her body was bare.

 

 

"Hi there," I said, "those are comfy looking boots."

 

The woman - I was fighting a losing battle to not call her 'the girl' - smiled at me. "I offer the highest quality alternative medicine products you can find in the Commonwealth today. Interested?"

 

"Actually," Cain said, "if you are ms. Casdin, we're interested in something else from you."

 

"Got a question for you," she said - still talking to me and seeming ignoring Cain, "Say you find a little kid, in a cave. He's all alone, hasn't eaten for days. Looks scared to death. But when you walk up to him, you can see he's got a nice little collection of stolen goods. What do you do?"

 

"Sounds to me like the stolen goods are a problem for another day. I'd give the kid a hug, tell him he's safe now, and get him some food."

 

 

"Hmm," she said, narrowing her eyes a little bit. "Sounds like something a synth might say. Sympathetic, and not irritated. But... my gut tells me you're human. So I'll take the job. Where you headed?"

 

"Cambridge. Kendall Hospital specifically. We need to get in there quietly, then secure the vicinity for a salvage team. Why do you ask? Didn't Dr. Cain already fill you in on the mission?"

 

"Curiosity mainly. It's funny how you expect the same answer from everyone but... if you ask, you get some differences. But if it's a guide you need, I'm in. It'll be four hundred caps though."

 

Cain seemed a little annoyed at that. "We agreed to two hundred," she said.

 

"I need to get off the caravan trail. I need to... do, something else. But that's not cheap. Tell you what though, I'll give you a discount on my products to sweeten the pot."

 

"I think you need to sweeten the deal if we're going to pay you four hundred caps," I said.

 

 

"I like your style," she acknowledged. "OK, how about we stick with the original two hundred, but I get a share of the profits from your dig. If you're bringing a whole salvage team, you must be after something big."

 

"I think we can make that work. Just know though that some specific things there are, um, earmarked. Those are going with my people, not negotiable. From the rest though, we'll give you a fair share."

 

"Fan-fucking-tastic," she said. "The name's Casdin. Heather Casdin. Been on the road my whole life; been training with weapons my whole life. You're in good hands with me. And if something's going on in the Commonwealth, I know about it. Traders love to gossip."

 

 

"Speaking in gossip, by the way," she continued, "I hear you killed that son of a whore Kellogg. You did good."

 

"Now one more thing," she said, reaching into her pack, "I've got a transponder for you to carry. This way, if we get separated, it'll be easier for us to link back up." She handed me a small device about the size of a pen with a rocker switch on the back. 

 

"Thanks," I said as I accepted the transponder, "that's a good precaution. I'll leave it off for now, no reason to generate too much radio noise, but I'll flip it on if we get separated."

 

"Great, that's all I've got. Time to rock and roll."

 

"One question for you," I said, "you're dressed like you're headed for Concord. Is that common out here?"

 

She shrugged, "not so much on this side of the highway. Bunker Hill especially is pretty skeptical how you folks dress, but I've bee to the Drumlin Diner enough times that I'm used to it... and I figured if my clients are coming from out west, I might as well dress to make you comfortable, right?"

 

"Well, I appreciate it. And the look suits you - I don't think I've ever been that slender, but if I had been, I'd hate to cover it up with baggy clothes."

 

"I'm glad you like it, though let's lay down some ground rules - you're my client. I don't sleep with clients. And if you get grabby, you won't be my client any more. Fair?"

 

I nodded in agreement, "sounds like pretty reasonable boundaries. I think we'll get along just fine."

 

"I hope so," Casdin said, "if the stuff in Publick Occurences is true, we've got a lot in common. Now let's hit the road, I want to make it to the Wellington Bridge before nightfall."