I woke up just before dawn, and all I felt was self-loathing. Here I was, cuddling in a relatively comfy bed with Winter while Piper was facing who-knows-what out there in the wasteland. No matter how hard I tried to reality check myself, I just felt pathetic. I was sure I could have pressed on through the night; hell, she'd probably stayed there at Bunker Hill and was just now setting off north. If I'd been more dedicated, I thought, if I'd cared more about her than about myself, I'd be with her right now.

 

Winter roused not long after and must have read my feelings on my face, because she asked, "what's eating at you?"

 

"I'm second-guessing if it was right to stay here," I said. "If we had time to fight those raiders, we had time to get to - or at least get closer to - Bunker Hill. We could have caught up with Piper by now."

 

"You wouldn't have caught up with her if you got ambushed in the dark by super mutants or synths," she pointed out. "You made the right decision. Piper can take care of herself - she was doing it a long time before you ever met her and she didn't magically lose her street smarts once she shacked up with you."

 

I shook my head, still feeling dejected. "I know you're right, but I still think I could have done more, done it better."

 

Winter laughed, saying, "you never cease to amaze me with your ability to beat yourself up over nothing. Come on, if you feel that bad about it, let's hit the road. We're almost to Storrow Drive, and Heather was pretty confident it won't take long after that."

 

As promised, the Storrow got us to the Washington Bridge fairly quickly. We did have to deal with some super mutants up on an overpass taking pot shots at us, We would have had more issues when we got to the Longfellow Bridge, considering that raiders had fortified both sides, but Heather warned us in advance and we bypassed that stretch of the shoreline. That's not to say we got through with no further issues; in particular, we got the drop on a raider who was scouting around on the esplanade. She wisely threw down her gun when she saw she was outnumbered three to one, and I snapped a shock collar around her neck. I didn't have time for a lengthy interrogation, but I planned to hand her off to the Minutemen later to see if we could learn more about the major raider camps in the area. Until then, I told her to follow me and warned her about the consequences of any funny business.

 

As I crossed the Washington Bridge into Charlestown, I noticed an odd sight that I'd noticed a few days earlier, during the vertibird ride: the U.S.S. Constitution perched precariously on top of a building. At the time, I had no idea about it's rather strange story, but I made a mental note to investigate in more detail when I had the time.

 

 

On the far side, Heather pointed to two streets. "If we're going straight to Bunker Hill, we can follow park street, and it'll hook around to the Hill in a few blocks. But if you're stopping at BADTFL first," she pronounced it 'Bad Toffel', "then we should stay on Route 99 until it crosses Baldwin Street."

 

I wasn't expecting that alternative from her. "Why would we want to take that route?" I asked, "It sounds like it's just a longer way around."

 

"Yeah, it's a small detour. I was just thinking about the guy you met on the Prydwen. The ambassador. Didn't you say you'd try to find his robot for him?"

 

"True," I admitted, "but let's go to Bunker Hill first. If Piper's still there, I don't want to miss her."

 

"Works for me," Heather said, "then Park street it is."

 

As promised, it was only a few more blocks before Bunker Hill came into view. I hadn't specifically noticed it during the flight to the Prydwen, so I was a little surprised to see that the monument had survived the war. I certainly wasn't complaining on that score, however - far too much of the beauty of Boston had either been destroyed outright, or had decayed to nothing from years of neglect. It made me wonder... if the Commonwealth Provisional Government hadn't failed, would the situation here be better? Could they have stopped the super mutants from getting footholds in so many of the ruined cities? I guess we'll never know for sure, but as those thoughts ran though my head I found yet another reason to hate the Institute - their Synth assassin's actions had lasting and severe consequences.

 

 

"Here we are," said Heather. "Bunker Hill. Trade capital of the Commonwealth. You better take the lead in introducing yourself."

 

"You have problems with the Cartel?" I asked. As I said that, my mind snapped back to Piper's story about how the Cartel tried to have her murdered, and I felt a cold weight in my gut as I imagined them trying again while she stayed here.

 

"Oh, no, nothing like that. But Kessler doesn't like middlemen. She's going to want to talk to you face to face either way, so you might as well skip the in-between part. Hey, what's wrong?" 

 

I shook my head. "Nothing, never mind. OK, I'll take the lead."

 

"You there! Caravan or raider?" Called a woman's voice. I looked up to the wall and saw the speaker pointing a rifle at me.

 

 

"You Kessler?" I asked, "I'm not with either, just me and my companions."

 

"Freelance, huh? All right, come on in. Market's open. You can do as much trading as you want." She sounded tired, and I wondered if they'd had trouble here recently. Still, I was happy at least that she didn't want to give me the third degree before letting us in. 

 

That wasn't to say we weren't interrogated. Once we were inside - and once we'd leashed up our raider captive with the other human cargo...

 

Oh, yeah, I don't think I mentioned. Back in those days, everything was for sale in Bunker Hill. People included. It was not a discovery that I was especially pleased to learn about, but it was also one that I wouldn't have the influence to do much about for some time yet to come. In the moment, their willingness to profit off human trafficking simplified the process of securing our prisoner during the visit, but I most definitely made note of the practice. And not in a positive way.

 

But as I was saying, after we'd put the raider off our hands for the moment, a ghoul approached me. "You and me, Ellison, we've got to talk," he said.

 

The fact that he knew my name took my by surprise. In retrospect, maybe it shouldn't have, since by then I was getting to be pretty well known, but nevertheless, I was surprised. "You've got my attention," I said.

 

 

"I'm always looking for people who know how to handle themselves in dangerous situations," he explained. "From what I hear, you may fit the bill."

 

"I think you might have me mistaken for a mercenary," I said. "That's not my line of work."

 

"I don't know," he said, "word is you organized a bunch of scavvers and settlers to take down Conrad Kellogg; and in the process, got a whole raider gang to defect and go straight. Mercenary or not, you get things done."

 

"Oh yeah? And what is it you want got done?"

 

"I don't know yet," he admitted. "Whatever needs to get done, once the boss has had a look at you. It'll be dangerous, I can assure you that."

 

"So now I need to take a job interview, too? Forgive me if I'm a little skeptical about this."

 

"Forgiven," he answered. "By the way, my name's Edward Deegan. And don't think of it as a job interview. Think of it as... meeting with an influential lobbyist."

 

"Jesus, there's a job title I hoped was extinct," I muttered. "You're from before the war then?"

 

"Guilty as charged - though word is, so are you. But seriously, you need to talk to my boss. His name is Jack Cabot, and he's got a lot of what they used to call soft power around here. He can open a lot of doors for you and your people if you get on his good side."

 

"OK, I have to admit you've intrigued me," I said, "but I'm here on business that I can't really just drop for a social call. Can I meet with your boss some other time?"

 

"Oh, by all means. Just don't wait too long. You're one of several people who he's very eager to meet... but I don't think you want to be the last one of them to show up. Come down to Cabot House on Beacon Hill and ask to talk to Jack. I'll let him know you're coming."

 

Heather whistled at that. "Jack Cabot... you're moving up in the world, Charley. Nobody talks to Jack Cabot."

 

"Is that so?" I probed.

 

"He lives in this beautiful old house - barely got touched in the war - but it's guarded by a small army of robots. Rumor has it he's got his fingers in all the political pies around here, but nobody knows for sure because he's so secretive. Take me along when you go see him," she urged, "I want to see this guy - and his house for that matter - myself."

 

"I think that can be arranged for," I said. "Now let's see if we can't track down Piper."

 

We proceeded into the Bunker Hill market, which occupied the remains of the old Bunker Hill Pavillion, visiting the different traders and making small talk while browsing their goods. Whether it was a case of genuinely not knowing or not wanting to talk, no one had any information for us about Piper. At least, not until we visited Deb, the junk merchant. She apparently had some history with Heather, and greeted her warmly as we approached.

 

 

"You working again, Heather?" she asked.

 

"Yeah," my guide replied, "I needed to get off the caravan route, but just kicking my feet up was making me stir crazy."

 

Deb gestured towards Heather as she talked, "I see they've got you going native with the Concord look. Hah, I wish I could pull that off. Twenty years ago, maybe."

 

"I don't know," I commented, "you still look pretty trim to me."

 

"Pfft, sure, tell me another one," she laughed. "I take it you're Heather's new boss?"

 

"Something like that," I said. "She's been showing us the sights... though maybe it's better to say that she's been showing us which sights to skip."

 

"I believe it. A good guide's worth your weight in caps. So what's got you down this way? Looking to charter a caravan out west to your people?" Evidently, though she hadn't made a big deal of it, Deb knew who I was - or made an educated guess.

 

"Looking to catch up with a friend, actually," I said. "Piper Wright. Heard of her?"

 

Deb narrowed her eyes a little. "You came to the wrong place if you wanted to meet her. She's on the fairly short list of people who Kessler won't let in under any circumstances. You might have wasted a trip, sweetie."

 

Winter, who'd been quiet up till now, asked out loud, "then why'd she tell Faraday she was going to Bunker Hill?"

 

I found myself frowning deeper at that thought. "Maybe she wanted Faraday to think she was going there." Before I spoke further I turned to Deb. "Sorry, Deb, I'm being a rude customer. Can you show me what you've got for sale?"

 

As much for politeness sake as anything else, I traded some medical supplies for some junk that I knew would be valuable back home - a couple microscopes, a box of fuses, some junk PCBs, stuff like that. And, after Heather pointed it out, a sturdy looking leather backpack. Our trading concluded, I led our little group outside before asking Winter to elaborate on what she'd said.

 

 

"Well, it's just a guess," she said, "but I'm thinking Piper picked up on Faraday being with the Institute too, and felt that she had to throw him off her trail. Maybe she thought he was going to tell them she was snooping around, and that they'd try to make her disappear."

 

I frowned at that. "You're making way too much sense, Winter. Fuck, so where do you think she actually went? Is she even going to the Slog?"

 

"Hard to say. This Doctor Wolfe sounded like a good enough lead that we planned to talk to her, it wouldn't surprise me if Piper was interested too. But one the other hand, now that I think of it, it's kind of strange that he sent us to talk to her also. Think its a trap?"

 

"For what it's worth," Heather said, "I doubt the Slog is in cahoots with the Institute. I've only been there a couple of times, but they seem like pretty normal people. I think they mostly just don't want people bothering them."

 

"But on the other hand, if I were a scientist doing research for the Institute, that might be the perfect place to use as a base. Out of the way. Low profile." I suggested.

 

"Or," Winter said, "if I were a scientist trying to stay off the Institute's radar, it would also be a good place to hide out. You think Faraday's just using us - and Piper - to draw her out? Maybe even just to confirm she's there without sending a more conspicuous agent?"

 

I frowned. "This conversation is both worrying me and also making me worry that I'm just being paranoid. Since we don't have any ideas for alternate places Piper might have gone, I think we should just press on to the Slog. Heather? What's our best route?"

 

"The Slog is almost directly north of us," she explained, "but we had to go around Saugus. There's a cult up there that's big trouble. They're very well armed and really aggressive - we don't want to mess with them, trust me."

 

 

"So if we're avoiding Saugus, then we're talking either going through West Everett - which is full of super mutants - or... what? Following Route 107?"

 

"Honestly, I was going to suggest West Everett. 107's definitely an option, but the raider presence there is really thick on the ground. With West Everett, if we keep moving we can probably slip through without too much mutant trouble. Though, hear me out here, I've got another option: we get the Brotherhood to give us a ride."

 

Winter scoffed at that. "You just want to take a vertibird ride."

 

"I deny nothing," she said, "but it would let us fly right over Saugus and avoid any problems with the cult. And if you're going to dig into BADTFL for them anyway, they owe you a favor, right?"

 

I thought on that, shaking my head slowly, "If I read between the lines right back on the Prydwen, this is more of a personal favor for Ambassador Hunter, and probably one he doesn't want us blabbing to the Brotherhood about. But I have to admit, you may be on to something with calling for a lift. Winter? What do you think?"

 

"I don't know if I want to owe the Brotherhood any favors," she said. "It's like owing the Triggermen... when they come to collect, you usually don't like what they ask you to do."

 

"So do you agree with Heather? Go up through West Everett?"

 

She nodded slowly. "I don't have a good alternative. I think our choice is either deal with a few super mutants or deal with a hell of a lot of raiders. And we know we can overpower mutants if there aren't too many of them."

 

I pointed out, "we can overpower raiders, too," but Heather was shaking her head.

 

"The raiders at Revere Beach have power armor and have heavy weapons. They're a different breed than the ones further west. Trust me, unless we're going in with our own armored backup, you want to steer clear of there."

 

"Even if we stick to the Salem turnpike and bypass Revere?"

 

She nodded, "you're paying me to be your guide. Trust me on this, you don't have the firepower to tangle with Cinder's gang."

 

"Fine," I said, "then I guess we're going back to West Everett."

 

"Back?" Heather said.

 

"I went there last winter, right after I got out of the vault. It wasn't pretty - the super mutants had captured a whole bunch of settlers and were slaughtering them, taking them apart for meat and skin. I don't know," I said, shrugging, "maybe its for the best. If that same bunch of mutants is there, maybe we can wipe them out."

 

This plan meant we'd be taking the Alford Street Bridge across the Charles and then following Main Street right up through West Everett to Malden. Good to my promise to Ambassador Hunter, we did stop by BADTFL headquarters (or more properly, the Boston regional office of the organization) to look for his eyebot. I admit, I was expecting trouble after the intense gunfight from this area we'd heard when we were traveling to Kendall Hospital. But instead, everything was quiet. Well, almost everything. I did hear some rustling - the sound of trash and debris shifting, and looking towards the front of the building I saw a naked women going through a pile of scrap.

 

"Everything OK?" I asked.

 

She rose, turning quickly, then seemed to relax as she saw me. "Don't see many of you vault folks out here... holy shit, are you Charley Ellison?"

 

 

"That's me," I said. "Have we met?"

 

"Naw," she said, "but I saw you coming into the Diner one time."

 

"Ohhhh, hang on, are you the scavver who found that snuff book for Trudy?" I asked.

 

The woman gave me a big smile, "sure am! Did you read it yet? Did you like it?"

 

"I have to admit, I haven't yet. I was saving it to read with a friend of mine."

 

The woman chuckled in such a high register that it was almost a giggle. "You won't regret it. That was hot stuff. The way they keep her in a cage with only stockings on... mmmm." She blushed a little as she recalled the scene, "what do you think? Are stockings like that OK to wear at the Diner?"

 

I thought about that. "We've let people wear shoes and gloves before. Stockings might be pushing it though. You know the whole reason why we don't allow clothes up there, right?"

 

"Everyone's gotta be equal, blah blah blah, yeah, I got it. I just know the first time I had to strip down in front of everyone, it was like someone stuck an electrical cord up my ass. Made my skin tingle all over."

 

"Is that why you're naked down here? Looking forward to someone seeing you?" I asked, feeling the corners of my mouth lift a little.

 

She winked, "don't tell anyone, OK? I've got them all thinking that Trudy put me up to it."

 

"Fair enough," I said, "your secret is safe with me. Keep safe, OK?"

 

"I'll do that," she said. "You keep safe too - ain't had someone do as much good for this dump in the last ten years, so we can't afford to lose you."

 

Before I let her get back to her work, Winter asked the scavver if she'd found anything good. There wasn't much, though she had found a hot plate and a typewriter, both of which I knew from experience, if I tossed into the Workshop it would recover a bunch of screws and small machine parts that could be useful. I took them off her hands in exchange for some caps, and then we headed inside to look for the eyebot - the scavver hadn't seen it, but she admitted to only searching the first couple rooms of the building.

 

It took a little digging, but we eventually found the robot down in the basement of the building. Someone had been trying to get into the casing - based on all the scratches and dents, just brute forcing it with a screwdriver - but the robot otherwise looked intact. Winter, put her mechanical skills to good use and managed to eject the onboard data tape without too much trouble. As much as I would have liked to search the building more thoroughly under other circumstances, we decided to move on and try to get further north before nightfall.

 

 

As we headed to the door, I heard Heather laughingly asked, "Hmmm, where have I seen that before?"

 

Turning, I saw she was standing over one of the office desks. She stood back up with a magazine in her hand, waving it towards me.

 

"What have you got there?" I asked. Heather came closer to show me the cover, and I chuckled at the image. "Yeah, that does look kind of familiar."

 

 

Winter joined me a moment later, also taking a moment to look at Heather's discovery.

 

"What the fuck?" she muttered, "mine doesn't have spikes on the piss tube. I'm squirming just thinking about how that would feel. And I don't see any way to inflate or deflate it... does that mean the bulb at the end just has to get jammed in?" She paused for a moment, then added, "and then it has to get pulled out like that, too?"

 

She plucked the magazine out of my hands and paged through it, evidently hot on getting her answer. "Shit, I think we do need to find one of these." She started reading from the page, "another difference from military version is an inclusive design for intersex people. Tesla believes this feature was specifically added for ESA astronaut Emilio Hartmann, who was born with a condition known as Prader Stage 5 Virilization. In other words, he has a penis and an empty scrotum, but has a uterus and ovaries inside his body. The special intersex adapter includes a firmware update that allows the male version of the neurofeedback system to be fully compatible with the female biochemical sensors."

 

I considered what she was saying. "That does sound like it would solve my problem with the neurofeedback system," I admitted. "But where are you going to find a European space facility in the Commonwealth?"

 

Winter shrugged, "you'd be amazed at what scavvers can turn up. And really all we need is the fabrication data, right? Then we could manufacture the part with the Workshop."

 

"Still sounds a lot easier said than done, but if the chance presents itself I'm all in favor of jumping on it. Even without the neurofeedback, the suit is amazing. I'd love to be able to get the most of out of it."

 

Conspiratorially, Winter said, "trust me, it's not just about using it to fight. When the system goes into its 'training mode...' mmmmm mm, that's good stuff. Might even help with your moodiness, now that I think of it."

 

"Oh?" I asked.

 

"Yeah, the maintenance manual says that one of the functions of the neurofeedback system is to keep your chemicals balanced so you can keep level headed when you get into dangerous situations. Sounds to me like that might also, you know, make it so you don't get depressed so much."

 

"Maybe," I said. "Hang onto that magazine - we'll show it to Cain next time we visit the hospital and see what she thinks."

 

West Everett was decidedly not a cakewalk. The mutants had fortified their little settlement since the last time I visited, and we ultimately found ourselves backing off to draw them out rather than going for a stand-up fight.

 

 

Fortunately, the mutants weren't tactical geniuses by any means, and they dribbled out piecemeal from their barricades, where we were able to gun them down with concentrated fire. Once we'd thinned out the boldest of them, we broke through a weak point in their wall and pushed through the town, blasting the whole way. Needless to say, we didn't accomplish my goal of totally wiping out the super mutants, but at least we made it through in one piece. 

 

Believe it or not, though, that was the least of our troubles. The extended gunfight at West Everett claimed valuable daylight, and by the time we were back on the road it was getting dark. Heather said she knew about a bunker where we could rest for the night, but when we got there the whole place was crawling with radscorpions, and we weren't really in any condition to take on a whole nest of those. So we decided to press on to the Slog... and managed to walk right through a Yao Guai hunting ground. That hike was, to say the least, harrowing, and I put my stimpaks to good use several times.

 

When I finally stumbled into the Slog, firmly reinforced in my belief that travel at night was a terrible idea, a ghoul waved me over to him.

 

"Welcome to the Slog," he said, "I'm Wiseman, and this is the only Tarberry farm in the Commonwealth. What do you think of the place?"

 

 

After I took a moment to catch my breath I said, "it's pretty clever, using an old swimming pool like that."

 

"I appreciate you saying so," he said, "but I suspect you didn't come just to appreciate our farming technique."

 

"I'm looking for two women," I said, "Piper Wright and Suzan Wolfe."

 

Wiseman chuckled at that. "Piper Wright? The reporter? I used to live in Diamond City, at least till that rat bastard mayor kicked me out. She's good people." Then more seriously he added, "but you probably noticed it's only ghouls around here. I'm sorry, but your friends aren't here."

 

"That motherfucker Faraday," I muttered. "He's got some explaining to do."

 

"Now hold on," Wiseman said, "I can't help you with Wright, but I met the doctor you were looking for. She hung out for a couple of days, asked us a lot of questions about how the farm runs, how we're doing health wise, stuff like that, but then she moved on. There's another farm to the west of here, Breakheart Banks. She might still be there, and if not the folks there should know where she's going next."

 

That was something at least. "Thanks for the tip," I said. "Do you mind if we rest here until morning? We had a hell of time getting up here."

 

"Yeah, I believe it," Wiseman said. "Ever since the Minutemen folded up, none of these roads are safe. I used to sell produce down at Bunker Hill... but not anymore. Fuckin' shame, too. I really thought that was the way for us to get people to give us a second chance, to not be scared of us."

 

"Well," I said, "I might have some good news for you, then," I said. "Let's talk in the morning. And... do you have a radio antenna?"