Morning eventually came around, as it tends to, and we set about getting Winter back into her suit. I'd thought about switching with her now that we knew I wouldn't be getting my checkup for a while, but I remembered the request from the cabinet for me to keep my use of it to a minimum. Moreover, Winter didn't have the unusual healing factor that I'd acquired, and having her inside the suit made it a lot less likely that she'd get hurt if (when) we ended up in another fight.

 

Heather seemed very interested, but also a little intimidated, by the process of equipping the suit. Of course, the plugs drew the sort of morbid curiosity you'd expect, but our guide seemed even more intrigued by the process of installing the implants for the lymphatic monitor. And to be fair, maybe I exaggerated the process just a little bit... but I wouldn't be the last, either. If you've ever seen the Publick Occurences article about using the suit - yeah, it sensationalized that part a bit too.

 

The only real complication we ran into was when I went to fill up Winter's bladder. Anticipating Winter might need to change her suit, or even switch it with me, Dr. Cain had supplied us with a few bags, each one sterilized and then thermally sealed in a waxed paper package. And we'd graduated from using modified IV bags to 1.5 liter, screw-topped vinyl bags. Cain had bought a whole case of them from Trashcan Carla, and she explained that they'd been originally designed for patients on feeding tubes. While I'd been out fighting Kellogg, Winter and Lucy had tested them for Cain by integrating them into their dominant-submissive game, and they'd found the screw top made the filling process a lot less messy, while also providing a tight seal that simplified the injection part of the procedure.

 

That was all well and good, except apparently I hadn't been hydrating sufficiently (or maybe I'd just sweated off too much between the stress of dealing with Maxson and the terror of the battle for Fort Strong), and I barely filled it up a quarter of the way. That probably would have been sufficient from a technical point of view, but I knew Winter had been practicing holding her movements with Lucy, and she'd probably trained herself to accommodate - and tolerate - quite a lot. I knew the discomfort of the process excited her, and I didn't want to disappoint.

 

So I turned to Heather and said, "can I ask you to do me a favor?"

 

"Sure, what's up?" was the cheerful response I got. 

 

 

"Have you done your morning business yet?"

 

"Business?" she asked. 

 

I didn't giver her long to figure out the idiom, clarifying, "you peed yet?"

 

"Oh, um... no? Why?"

 

I offered the vinyl bag towards her. "You mind filling this up for me?"

 

What a curious response I got. She blushed, she scrunched her brow like she was still a little confused, and she also recoiled a little from the proffered bag. "I ah... I... that's kind of, uh, messy? Yuck. Why... why?"

 

I pointed at the partially-suited Winter. "The medical system works by injecting drugs in a saline solution whenever the user needs them. And the suit makes its own saline solution from the operator's pee. Recycles it. So Winter needs a full bladder for the suit to start working at its best right from the start. Once she gets all her plugs in, we need to top her off, if you know what I mean, to kickstart the recycling process."

 

"You know, I have heard a lot of weird stuff in my day. All kinds of crazy mad scientist shit. I've never heard of... that, before. Who even comes up with an idea like that?"

 

I shrugged, chuckling. "Apparently there were studies about it in Europe before the war. I suspect its one of those things where there's a very strange story behind it, but who knows? But that's one of the big differences between this suit and the patched-together one that Susan has. The medical system is bizarre, but it's amazingly effective. So, mind making a donation?"

 

Heather blushed deeper, and she looked like she was almost about to say no, but then her posture shifted a little bit and she said, "I don't know if I can do it with you watching. Can I take that with me?"

 

"Sure," I said, and Heather disappeared around a corner. A couple minutes later she was back, with the bag mostly full and securely screwed closed.

 

"You want to watch me fill up Winter?" I asked as I took the bag off her hands.

 

Heather blushed again, struggling to maintain eye contact. "Is it OK?" she asked, at length.

 

"What do you think, Winter?" I asked my fiancee, "you want Heather to watch while I put..." I checked the bag, "725 ml of fresh, hot piss into you?"

 

"That sounds kind of hot," Winter said in a teasing voice. "Though you guys are rookie pissers. I've got up to 800 before, and that's playing with petite little Lucy." 

 

 

"How'd you manage that?" I asked, "I don't think her stomach could hold 800 milliliters, much less her bladder."

 

I beckoned Heather to follow me back to where Winter was relaxing, sitting with her back against the wall, and connected the bag to her catheter while she explained.

 

"She was off duty the day it was her turn to be the toilet, and I hooked her up to one of these bags and just let it fill up over the course of the day. Made for quite a heavy-duty training session that night."

 

"I bet," I said, as I lifted the vinyl bag up over Winter's head. Talking to Heather I said, "Winter likes to just squeeze the whole thing in right away under pressure, but Susan told me it's better to let gravity start and only put pressure on when it stops draining on its own."

 

"Wimp," Winter said, laughing. 

 

"Maybe, but I don't need you out of action if I bust your kidney or something." Maybe 30 seconds later, the pressure equalized between the bag and Winter's bladder, and I slowly started to squeeze down the bag to push in the rest. Winter let out a long sigh of apparent satisfaction at the start, which gradually transitioned into groaning and wiggling as she got more and more uncomfortable. She was actually panting a little when I ran my thumb and forefinger along the tube in order to get the last few drops into her.

 

"Are you sure you got to 800?" I questioned.

 

"Ha, yeah, I didn't say it was easy."

 

I noticed Heather hadn't said anything and I glanced back over my shoulder. The raiders had set up their mattresses in what had once been the brewery's outlet shop, and she was perched on the sale counter, watching intently. Her hands were folded on her lap, but from the way her hips were wiggling and the way she'd positioned herself on the corner of the countertop, I was pretty sure she'd found a different way to get some gratification.

 

"OK, my love, you are fully loaded. Let's get your neurofeedback sensor hooked up, and then we can finish with the suit."

 

I seated the 'U' shaped sensor over the hood of Winter's clit, then turned the little thumbscrew at the top to narrow the inside until it was snugly connected. That was one feature I'd never been able to try out - the sensors in Winter's uterus and lymph nodes monitored her endorphin levels; when they got outside the target range, the neurofeedback device would apply vibration - or painful electric shocks - directly to her clit. According to the manual, over time this conditioned endocrine responses that would improve her performance in the field. 

 

It didn't work for me because the sensor didn't fit on my oversized clit. As you know, we'd kludged together a solution using the adapter part for male operators, but it didn't really do anything. The male neurofeedback system had different monitoring processes and because I didn't have testicles to connect the hormone monitoring and injection probes to. The medical computer instead picked up the uterine probe and just errored out and shut down the neurofeedback program. Susan had told me that I could probably stop attaching the penis cage to my clit altogether since it wasn't working, but whenever Winter helped out she enjoyed the process of attaching it, and she'd told Cain several times that she expected me to get the same treatment no matter who was assisting me. 

 

In any event, once we had that last sensor attached, the rest of the suiting-up went quickly. Once the skin of the suit was up over Winter's breasts, she made sure her nipples (or, if you want to split hairs, her areola) were seated against the external connecter pads and locked them in place. She only jumped a little bit when the implants seated behind her nipples extended their spines to connect with the pads. From there, we sealed the suit at the neck, get her helmet on, and then I got to listen with amusement as Heather gasped and winced as Winter swallowed her breathing and feeding tubes like a pro.

 

With my wife-to-be sealed back up, I slapped her on the rump, flipped on the backpack-mounted medical system, and pronounced her mission-ready. I heard a long sigh, faithfully recreated by her suit's loudspeaker, and gave Winter's lower abdomen a little squeeze.

 

 

Turning to Heather I said, "that relief she's feeling is the recycling system starting to work. If we hadn't had your help, she would have had to wait for half an hour or an hour before it kicked in."

 

"I'm, uh, glad I could help?" She said, uncertainly.

 

"I appreciate it, you did good," Winter said. "Next time you should get more hands-on, it'll go faster." 

 

"I... I don't know," she dissembled.

 

"Don't worry about it," I said, "you helped plenty. OK, let's hit the road. Diamond City's waiting for us."

 

The rest of the trip down to Boston was uneventful - a fact that, after the Synth ambush the day before - I welcomed. I suspected that Vault 81's growing presence in the area had edged out some of the raider gangs we'd butted heads with in the past; I hoped that meant that Diamond City was under less pressure, though I supposed it might have meant that the raiders had to migrate into Boston proper and thereby increased the density of human garbage near the Great Green Jewel.

 

Ultimately it wasn't raiders we had to worry about. Instead, a small army of ghouls was milling around the entrance to Diamond City while the DC guards fired at them from barricades. Our group swung in behind them, but even with our superior position it was a tough fight. And, once again, I noted that Diamond City's armored door wasn't closed. What a mess; at best it was negligence, and at worst it pointed to a serious vulnerability.

 

 

After we'd finished mopping up, I tried to talk with Danny Sullivan, but he was cagier than normal. I put on my best impression of Piper's wedeling though and eventually he let slip that the door had suffered a mechanical breakdown in the morning. The activity of a team of mechanics is what actually attracted the ghouls, and DC security had been fighting them for a couple of hours when we showed up.

 

"There's going to get in some day, Danny," I said. "It's going to be a fuckin' nightmare."

 

Danny looked left and right, evidently checking to see if anyone was in earshot, then confessed. "I know. We're doing our best, but this place is old."

 

"Have you asked Vault 81 for help?" I pressed.

 

Danny shrugged. "The mayor said that if we let them in, they'll take us over, so its only DC mechanics who can work on the door. Above my pay grade, you know?"

 

 

"Yeah," I conceded, "I know. Maybe next time I'm down at 81 I should drop a hint for them to come by and spontaneously offer to help."

 

"I don't know," he said. "That might just make McDonough dig his heels in deeper. Don't worry about us, we'll keep this place safe... one way or another."

 

"I hope so. Don't take offense though if I tell Piper and Nick that it's time they move out for good."

 

He looked disappointed at that, even a little sad, but he nodded. "I gotcha. It'll get better though, you'll see."

 

On the inside, nothing seemed to have changed about Diamond City - other than the conspicuous absence of the Publick Occurences sign, at least. I wondered if the people living here had even noticed the hours-long gunfight outside.

 

 

The sign might have been down, but I saw Nat Wright outside hawking papers from her soapbox. Evidently she planned to run her business until the last minute. I waved to her as I approached, saying, "Nat, good to see you. Is Piper around?"

 

Nat hopped down and quickly closed the distance to me, giving me a quick hug. 

 

"Well, if it isn't the most interesting woman in the Commonwealth. You've been moving papers like crazy," she said.

 

 

"You don't say," I chuckled. "Do I want to know what you and your sister are writing about me?"

 

Nat pouted a little, but the expression seemed more playful than anything else. "Surely you aren't questioning my journalistic integrity," she said. "Of course we're only publishing the truth. Buyt imagine: one woman's search for her lost child becomes a crusade to bring peace to the Commonwealth and destroy one of the most dangerous mercenaries who's ever darkened our doorstep. And, on top of that, in a season you've turned a raider-infested ruin into a thriving town. That's the kind of story that gets people excited!"

 

"I bet. So, you excited about making the move to Concord?"

 

"Are you kidding?" She asked, and now it was her turn to laugh, "me and Piper both. The thought was scary at first, but the more I thought about it... no more censorship from the upper stands... no more worrying about whether my sister's going to spend the night in the Piper Suite. No more putting buckets down whenever it rains. It's going to be great."

 

 

"Have you worked out a timetable yet? I saw you already moved the sign and some boxes, but it looks like there's still a lot of stuff here."

 

She shrugged. "Some of it we're just throwing out, but the rest? Well, we've been boxing stuff up whenever we aren't working these last couple days. As long as nothing crazy happens, we're going to leave when the next Bunker Hill caravan rolls in - should be in two days."

 

"That's good news," I said, smiling. "To be honest, if you weren't moving out soon I was going to have to have 'the talk' with you and your sister about whether it was safe for you to stay here. The last two times I've visited Diamond City, I've seen security issues that, to say the least, worried me."

 

"Aw, that's sweet that you're worried, but we would have been fine. This place has been around for two hundred years and it isn't going to change now."

 

I frowned. "That's what we thought about America, before the war. All it takes is one bad day, and everything can change." I shook my head then and tried to put on a happier expression. "Sorry, I'm not trying to be a downer. So, where's Piper hiding?"

 

"I think she's out in town working on that big investigative gig. Maybe she's visiting Miss Edna again?"

 

I tried to put my finger on the name Edna, but it didn't ring any bells, so I asked, "I don't think I've met Miss Edna before. Where can I track her down at?"

 

"She's Mr. Zwicky's assistant, down at the school on Home Street. Hang a left at Fallon's Basement and look for the sign - you can't miss it."

 

As promised, I couldn't miss the schoolhouse and I let myself in, hoping to catch up with Piper inside.

 

 

Unfortunately, Piper was nowhere to be found, but I did find Edna. The teacher's assistant wasn't quite what I expected - she was a Miss Nanny robot, very similar in appearance to Curie. I waited until she seemed to be free for a moment, then flagged her down.

 

"Miss Edna?" I asked.

 

"Ahh, a new scholar come to join us," she said. I thought it was interesting that Edna had the same French accent as Curie. Before, I'd assumed it was a unique quirk of Curie's, maybe done deliberately to go with her name, but now it struck me that maybe there was a whole series of French-accented Miss Nannies. "Let's test your math skills," she continued, "what is twelve times fifteen?"

 

Now, it had been a long time since I'd had to answer a math quiz, but you don't really forget how to do multiplication once you get the hang of it. In case you're wondering, the trick is to break the question into segments that are faster to solve. You can either approach it as (10x15)+(2x15) or (12x10)+(12x5), whichever's easier, and then you end up with 150+30 or 120+60, and ultimately 180. 

 

 

Edna seemed delighted when I told her the answer, commenting, "I see your parents raised you with  respect for your education."

 

Zwicky, seated at the teacher's desk, seemed less impressed. "Can I help you with something, miss...?"

 

"Call me Charley," I said. "Charley Ellison, from Concord."

 

"Oh," the older man said, seeming just a little annoyed, "that Charley. I guess I should have guessed from your outfit. Do I want to know what you're up to poking around my schoolhouse?"

 

"I'm looking for Piper Wright, actually," I said. "I heard she was planning to interview you about something."

 

"Oh, yes," Edna said, "she was here this morning. Regrettably, we couldn't help her much, but I suggested she talk to that nice young man who recently moved here. Doctor Faraday."

 

"Is that so?" I asked. "Do you know where I can find him?"

 

Edna's eyestalks bobbed and she said, "Why of course. How else could I direct Ms. Wright to see him? He is renting a small building near the pond. Right at the intersection of First and Second. But before you go, can you answer me a question?"

 

"Of course - it's the least I can do since you pointed me in the right direction. What did you want to know?"

 

"Family," she said. "It is important, yes? This thing called 'love' I hear the children talk about. I think they need that to learn."

 

"It's true," I agreed. "A child needs all the love you can give them."

 

 

As I said that, all I could think of was Shaun, and it must have shown on my face because Edna quickly added, "oh, please do not get upset! Why is it when I talk about these things, there are always tears? But I have one more question before you leave. It's not another quiz. I just... I don't get to talk to many adults. This 'love' you speak about... do you think you can have it for someone, even if the two of you are very, very different?"

 

My knee-jerk reaction was to agree with her, but the recollection of Dyllan Boswell and his super mutant girlfriend, Carnal, came to mind. That confirmed my initial impression and I told her, "if you love someone, hold on to them. Tomorrow you might not have the chance." The answer came out not as upbeat as I'd hoped, influenced more by my pining for Shaun than my recollection of Carnal and Dyllan's happiness together.

 

"I... thank you," Edna said. "You have helped me make up my mind about something."

 

"OK," Zwicky interrupted, "time for you to move along, I think. It's hard enough to get teenage boys to pay attention without them coming back from lunch to see your rear end on display."

 

I couldn't really argue with him on that point - I got more than enough looks from full-grown men that I'm sure the vault suit would be terminally distracting to those walking hormone sponges called adolescents. Besides, I really wanted to catch up with Piper before she leapfrogged on to whatever next clue she identified. 

 

I found Faraday's shack easily enough, just off the pond walkway, a couple paces from the base-marker that served as the dividing line between First Street and Second Street. Incidentally, if you haven't picked it up, the main streets of Diamond City are based on the original baseball diamond layout - First, Second, Third, and Home - so now I was down in the south part of the DC, near the pond that fed the water purifiers. 

 

 

I knocked on the door once, and when I didn't get an immediate answer I did it again. 

 

"Doctor Faraday?" I called.

 

When I still didn't get an answer, I carefully opened the door. I was immediately greeted by loud jazz music coming off a radio set, loud enough that maybe it masked my knocks and almost loud enough to mute the conversation going on at the far side of the shack.

 

"It's just... am I going to die?" A woman's voice asked. "It feels like I'm going to die."

 

It wasn't Piper, which was a relief, but the words still concerned me a little. 

 

"Don't worry. By the looks of it, you're progressing faster than normal, but I don't see any signs of complications."

 

The second speaker was a man, dressed rather incongruously in a clean white lab coat and a ratty pair of sneakers. He'd apparently decided to skip pants that day.

 

 

"Yesterday, when I went to sleep," the woman continued, "it was half this size, alright? I'm just starting to get worried... and it really hurts."

 

"Fast expansions like this are unusual," the man, who I assumed was Faraday, reassured her, "but they aren't dangerous in any way. You can rest assured of that."

 

She laughed bitterly, "listen, doc, I can't rest, period, with the way this thing is growing."

 

"For what it's worth," he said, "the pain is mostly from stress, not from the calf."

 

"Yeah? So how do I make it go away?"

 

"If you mean the pregnancy, aborting is probably more dangerous than just waiting it out. For the pain? Try to relax."

 

"Typical man," she spat, "tells a woman to relax."

 

"You might also try having your husband massage your abdomen. In fact, in your current state you might find it rather arousing."

 

"Arousing, huh?" the woman pondered. "So just in case, can me and my husband... you know?"

 

"Have sex? Of course. In fact, I'd highly recommend it. It won't hurt the calf, and it has all sort of health benefits for you."

 

"Alright," she said, seeming not fully convinced, "I hope he can look past my big belly."

 

 

"In my experience," he said, "most men don't care. Many even like it."

 

"Thanks doctor," she said, "I guess I'll be off. Besides, I think you've got another customer."

 

The woman rose to let herself out, and the doctor turned to face me.

 

"Doctor Faraday, I presume?" I asked.

 

"Yes," he said. "You're new, aren't you?"

 

I nodded, and he continued, "I'm Christian Faraday. I'm new here also, just started up my clinic last week. I'm a specialist in caring for women with IHFM. Is that why you're here?"

 

 

"Not exactly," I said. "I'm looking for Piper Wright. But..." As soon as Faraday had turned around to speak with me, I noticed the very distinct layered shirt under his lab coat. Before she'd gotten tired of taking it off every time she left Jake's shop and started spending all her time naked, I'd seen the exact same shirt on Susan Cain quite a few times.

 

"But?" He prompted me.

 

"Maybe instead we should talk about your connection to the Institute."

 

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Faraday said, his eyes glancing to the door.

 

"Where'd you get that outfit, then?" I asked.

 

"I, ah, I just bought it from a scavver."

 

"Oh," I said, laughing, "why didn't I think of that. Seriously, do you know who I am? I'm Charlie Ellison, and the Institute kidnapped my son, so maybe you should stop lying to me."

 

"Um, um, OK, well..." and then he tried to bolt for the door. Faraday got about three quarters of the way to the exit before Winter intercepted him with unnatural speed that showed she was under the influence of the biofuel foam, stopping him in place per a form grip.

 

"Let's try this again," I suggested. "What your link to the Institute?"

 

Faraday's face snapped through a whole series of emotions - fear, anger, frustration - and towards the end I thought he was going to cry.

 

"Dammit, I just want to help women who have IHFM. The Institute wouldn't let me continue my research - I can't tell you more, hell, I probably already told you more than I'm allowed. I'm on... call it, an indefinite sabbatical. Very indefinite. I don't know anything about the Institute that matters."

 

He hesitated, then added, "please don't tell the people here - and especially not Piper Wright - that I worked for the Institute. No one will ever trust me again and I won't be able to help anyone here."

 

"The only thing I want to know is how to get into the Institute. I don't care about anything else. Surely you can tell me that?"

 

"Oh, well if that's all you wanted to know, why didn't you say so? I'll draw you a map right away!"

 

 

"Maybe skip the sarcasm," I suggested. "Conrad Kellogg is dead in a ditch because he got in the way of my rescuing my son, and he had a lot more value as a captive than you, seems like."

 

"You wouldn't kill me in the middle of Diamond City," Faraday challenged, "Diamond City security would arrest you before you got three steps out of my clinic."

 

Winter, who fairly towered over Faraday in her powersuit's ballet-style boots, peered down at him. I imagined she was putting on an intimidating face, but of course it was hidden by the suit's opaque faceplate. "I think you're making a big assumption about how willing DC Security would be to pick a fight with Concord."

 

"Well, I guess I don't have any good options. Either I keep my mouth shut and you bump me off, or I talk to you and get a visit from a Courser. And those visits tend to be fatal. So, have at it, I guess? Fuck, you wastelanders are insane. I just wanted to study IHFM and help people manage the condition. I dedicated my whole life to it, even gave up a great career. If I was a woman, I would have infected myself just to study the effects. And now you're ready to rub me out because you hate my old boss."

 

"You're not really winning a lot of sympathy," I pointed out. "Are you trying to negotiate with me, or are you just running your mouth to hide that you're afraid?"

 

"Negotiate?" he laughed, "what could I possibly offer you that you'd want, but that wouldn't get me killed for betraying the Institute?"

 

"How about we start small," I suggested. "Where's Piper Wright?"

 

Faraday glanced at the clock on the wall behind me, then said, "on her way to Bunker Hill right now - maybe half way there? Though by the time you caught up she'd already be well on her way to the Slog."

 

"The Slog?" I pressed.

 

"It's a farm up north, run by Ghouls."

 

I sighed, growing annoyed with the way Faraday was drawing this out. I was starting to wonder if he had some kind of silent alarm and if he was stalling until someone showed up to rescue him.

 

"Why is she going to the Slog? Something you told her, I presume? And try for more than ten words, this time. If you force me to get rough with you, I can guarantee that your pain won't just be from stress."

 

"She showed up asking questions about a cybernetic implant. She didn't have it with her, but she described it in rather great detail. I'm not a cyberneticist, and I couldn't help her."

 

"Did she tell you where she got it?"

 

"No, but I could guess from the description." Faraday wrinkled his nose as he said this. "And of course I couldn't tell her any of that because it would reveal my past affiliation. But I know a scientist, Suzan Wolfe, who might be able to help her. Last I heard, she works at the Slog."

 

"Wouldn't sending Piper to snoop around there blow your cover?" I asked.

 

"No, of course not. Wolfe doesn't know anything about Institute cybernetics. Anything she was able to discern from the implant would be original research with no link back to me."

 

 

"Jesus, you're a real 'letter of the law, but not the spirit' kind of guy, aren't you?"

 

"Could be useful," Winter observed. "So, you know anyone else who can do 'original research' for us?"

 

Faraday frowned, answering Winter, "you did see how your friend was just threatening to kill me, right? Why would I do anything to help her?"

 

Winter shrugged, "I assume to prevent her from killing you. I was just offering you an out."

 

"Fine, fine. Listen, I don't exactly have a lot of professional contacts out here yet. There's another scientist, an ex-Institute man. He might be willing to help you more... directly than I can. But it would be dangerous for me to even give you his name. Maybe... do you think you could do a favor for me, in exchange for the information?"

 

"That depends," I said. "What do you want?"

 

Faraday seemed a little bashful, hesitating before he answered me. "I'd like you to convince Doctor Wolfe to come work with me. You see, amongst her many talents, she is a leader in the field of IHFM research. In fact, I'm told that she's become pregnant with almost every kind of animal in the wasteland, in order to study how the mutation influences her physiology. With her aiding me, we could make Diamond City the premiere location for IHFM pregnancy and neonatal care."

 

I thought on that for a moment, before I told him, "since it seems like I need to find Wolfe anyway to catch up with Piper, I'll see what I can do. But I'm not going to drag her back here kicking and screaming. If she says no, I'm going to expect that you help me anyway. The service I'm doing is to find her and try to convince her to work with you, not to kidnap her. Understood?"

 

Faraday frowned, but his shoulders sunk and he relented, "fine. I suppose I also can't guarantee that Doctor... that my lead with collaborate with you. And I should warn you, I don't know his current whereabouts. Only his identity. So it's a fair exchange: some uncertainty on both sides."

 

"Fuck," Winter muttered, "were you planning on holding that out on us until we got back? You're lucky you clued us in on that little detail beforehand."

 

Faraday plopped down on his bed, pouting, "will you two just leave now? You've probably scared off my next patient, and my IBS doesn't react well when people are threatening to kill me."

 

"Whatever," said Winter, "count yourself lucky that you don't need a doctor. You ready to bounce, Charley?"

 

I nodded, and we left Faraday's clinic behind. After we'd walked a ways, Winter spoke up.

 

"That's a side of you I don't see very often," she said. "What got under your skin?"

 

 

"When I was talking with the robot, Edna, she got me thinking about Shaun and now I can't get him out of my head. When I saw that Institute uniform, it really set me off. Hell, I'm still all heated up. Plus, I'm kind of worried."

 

"Tell me what's on your mind," Winter said.

 

"Nat said she and Piper were going to be leaving for Concord in two days, but now Piper's running off to Bunker Hill and points north? And didn't tell Nat about it? Something doesn't feel right about this."

 

"Shit," Winter admitted, "I didn't think of that. You think Piper's in trouble?"

 

"I don't know, but I think we need to find out."

 

We couldn't leave right away - I needed to fill in Nat on what was going on, and after talking things through with her I made arrangements with Arturo Rodriguez to scare up a could trustworthy guys to help Nat finish packing. It cost a few caps, needless to say, but I really did want Nat out of Diamond City, and Rodriguez had always dealt fairly with me in the past. After that, we tracked down Heather Casdin at the noodle stand and started planning the best way to Bunker Hill.

 

"So are you trying to catch up with your friend on the way, or just follow her?" Heather asked, "because there's the safe and reliable way, and then there's the fast and risky way."

 

"I'd really like it if we could catch up with her before she gets to Bunker Hill," I admitted. "Something feels off about this and I'd rather we not be separated any longer than we have to."

 

"Makes sense," Heather said. "Then I think we want to just follow Storrow Drive until we get to the Washington Street bridge. That way's got issues with raiders and mutants, but it doesn't have any obstacles that'll stop you as long as you aren't afraid of a fight."

 

 

"OK," I said, "I'll trust your judgment on that one. Let's get moving, I'd rather not have to camp out overnight before we get to Bunker Hill."

 

"Makes sense," she agreed, and as soon as she finished slurping down her noodles we headed for the gate. On the way there, I heard a familiar voice speaking.

 

"Darling, are you sure about this? I am not a normal girl." 

 

Turning my head, I saw Edna and Zwicky, the schoolteachers, standing in from of the chapel. As I watched with a great deal of curiosity, the pastor proceeded to walk those two through wedding vows. Evidently, this was the 'big decision' that Edna had alluded to when we spoke earlier.

 

 

"Well shit," Heather said, "I wasn't expecting that. Good for them."

 

"Yeah," I said. "I hope they're happy together." That plucked at my heartstrings a little, not just raking up old memories of Nate, but also magnifying my worry about Piper. I told myself that I was just being paranoid, but it was hard to kick the anxiety. It wasn't like her to leave Nat hanging... actually, in all fairness, I realized it kind of was. Weirdly, that salved my concern a little. Maybe this was just Piper getting lost in her work and not a sign that this was a crisis. I really hoped that was the case.

 

Heather's advice to hurry was sound, but unfortunately the sun didn't want to cooperate. By the time we were a block away from Storrow Drive, it was getting dark out, and we had to change our priorities from reaching Bunker Hill to finding a safe place to bed down for the night. Fortunately for us, that problem took care of itself when a woman flagged us down.

 

"Hey, Scavver," she said, "you looking for a place to camp?"

 

 

"Maaaybe," I said. "what are you offering?"

 

She pointed to a red door on the adjoining building, "the Boston Bordello's open all night. Come on in, if you've got the caps, we've got a clean place for you to stay."

 

The woman, Sadie, escorted us in, then up into an upper-story room where she introduced us to 'Cueball,' her boss. 

 

"I found these three out on the street after dark," she explained. "Do we have a free room? Or do they crash in the lounge?"

 

 

"I think that depends," Cueball said. Turning to me he asked, "that's a rather nice laser rifle you have. And your companion has an impressive suit of armor. Would you be open to... alternative payment arrangements?"

 

"Depends what you have in mind. Sounds like you want me to shoot someone."

 

"Indeed, I do. There is a local gang, the Saints, who have taken it upon themselves to disrupt my... business establishment. I would like for you to go with Sadie here and wipe them out, after which you will be free to rest here the night... and indeed, any night in the future. Just spare me the details of how your raid goes. I simply cannot stand the thought of blood."

 

"I think we can arrange for that," I said. "Sadie, tell me about these 'saints.' Raiders, I assume?"

 

Sadie glowered. "I wish. You can cut a deal with raiders sometimes. But the Saints? They're high on religion, and they're out of control. They've decided that they don't like all the sinning that's going on here."

 

"Lovely. Just another thing I'd hoped had died in the war. OK, where are the Saints holed up?"

 

"In a church a few blocks from here. Follow me, I'll show you the way."

 

Sadie let us through a maze of alleys and back streets, demonstrating a pretty impressive knowledge of the neighborhood and avoiding any trouble on the way to the church. Once we got there, things almost went sideways. The Saints were waiting for us, and while their trap was amateurish, they made up for with numbers what they lacked with in finesse. Unfortunately, they didn't count on Sadie bringing extra muscle, and we overpowered them before they could pin us down.

 

As we examined the remains of the Saints, Sadie scoffed, "Damn, that was close. I'm not eager to meet my maker, but judging by all these Saints he sure was eager to meet us. I'll tell Cue what happened here... you come back as soon as you're done with... whatever you're doing, and we'll set you up with a room."

 

'Whatever I was doing,' was searching the Saints for ammunition and supplies, a habit I'd gotten into with greater and greater consistency as I'd acclimated to the post-war world. When I got to searching the pulpit, however, I let out a good laugh. 

 

"Hey Winter," I said, "take a look at what they had stashed down here."

 

 

Winter chuckled, shaking her head, "wow, what a surprise. They want to burn down the bordello, but their leader's stashing porn in his desk."

 

Once we caught back up with Sadie at the Bordello, she set us up with a small room. Too small, really; the bed only had room for two of us and after a we pointed out this fact she agreed to get us a second room. While she arranged for that, the three of us flipped through the Saints' secret magazine. It was cute pinup stuff, nothing too heavy, but it was nice to relax for a bit before we went to bed. By the time we were done with our reading, Heather had snuggled up pretty close to me, and I had to resist the urge to get handsy with her. However, I remembered my promise to not sexually harass her, and so I settled for just enjoying another warm body against me. 

 

 

Eventually Sadie came back and showed Heather the way to her room, and I invited Winter to come join me in bed. The smooth, plastic-like skin of her suit... well, I won't say that it was bad for cuddling, but it was a very different cuddling experience from the warmth of flesh on flesh. Still, she was soft, and very importantly, she was familiar. We knew each other's curves well, and it was second nature to find a comfortable position to entwine ourselves in. And that was good, because having a familiar body to cuddle with helped keep my mind off of worrying about Piper. Intellectually, I know that she was probably fine, but still... something didn't feel right.