"You can't just ignore the threat. As long as they're still there out there, they're a threat; and on top of that, they have the Vestments."

 

We'd awoken to a rainy morning, though fortunately Quartercut's people had put down the sleeping backs well away from the open part of her hall's roof. Heather was up before me, scanning the near distance and rather pointedly ignoring the argument that was happening upstairs - but very much in earshot.

 

 

"Ugh, what's the racket?" Piper asked as she peeled out of her sleeping bag.

 

"Zara's arguing with Quartercut," Heather said. "They've been at it for a while."

 

The back-and-forth continued unabated. Quartercut was speaking this time. "Zara, you of all people should know that it's all a lie. The Vestments don't matter. The priests don't matter. Their power is broken and they will never be back."

 

"You don't understand," Zara shot back. "When people believe something all their life, they don't just give it up overnight. As long as the priests are alive, you're in danger."

 

"Even your father?"

 

"Yes! Especially my father! People like him... who'd choose their religion before their family? Those are exactly the kind of people you have to worry about."

 

I crossed the drizzle in the center of the hall and climbed the stairs to Quartercut's loft apartment. Zara was storming down the stairs and as we passed each other she hissed, "maybe you can talk some sense into her."

 

Quartercut was waiting at the top, scowling as Zara retreated. The Queen of Salem was damp - I imagine perhaps she'd showered in the rain not long before - and barely dressed, but she had the same confident stance she'd held the day before. 

 

 

"I suppose you heard all of that," she said, then pushed on without giving me a chance to answer. "Well, then, let's hear it. What do you think? Am I a fool for ignoring the priests?"

 

"I think I need to know more before I answer that question. What kind of the strength do the holdouts have left? And what's this about Vestments? I assumed the Vestments were the Vault gear you were wearing yesterday."

 

"Ah, no, that's what we call the Lesser Vestments. Those were made by the priesthood to complement the Holy Vestment. And, well, for certain ritual purposes. But that's over. Honestly, I need to stop wearing even the lesser ones - they remind people too much of the times before."

 

"I take it then that you're drawing a clean break from the priesthood and from those traditions? I like your new outfit, by the way," I nodded towards her little tiny bikini top.

 

Quartercut snorted, "I blame them for this too. I have to wear this when I bathe or else people are going to spread rumors that I've recanted and that I'm seeking ritual purity. But yes, the time of the priesthood is over. I can't prove it yet - might never be able to prove it with the condition the temple is in - but I think all of these secrets they supposedly learned from Longwalker are all fabrications they created to control my grandmother."

 

"How do you square making a clean break with letting the remnants of the priesthood live?" I asked. I'm not sure how I would have acted in her place, but I was curious about her reasoning.

 

"The priesthood is broken forever," she said, conviction in her voice. "All of the senior priests were in the temple and met their fate there. Almost all of their guards were there too. What's left are a handful of low-level functionaries along with their loudest supporters from the community. Zara thinks they'll come back and stage a counter-revolution, but she's wrong. They'll wither and starve and then turn on one another. Their self-destruction will put an end to their false religion far better than anything I can orchestrate."

 

"And what will you fill the vacuum with?"

 

"Explain what you mean," Quartercut answered.

 

"I, ah, I've seen a lot in my time. More than you think or probably even than you can imagine. I've seen the problems with religion in the old world, before the war, and I see it again today in my own people. Religion is like a weed... it just keeps coming back, no matter how hard you try to uproot it, and if you ignore it it'll crack your foundation and ruin your crops."

 

Quartercut considered me for a moment. "So you're a ghoul under that shiny armor? For some reason, that's not how I imagined you. Still, I appreciate the perspective. But like you said yourself, I can't uproot an idea like that. It has to starve and die out on its own. But... to run with your analogy, you're saying that I need to replace the priesthood with something else? Something a little more benign?"

 

Big words for a wasteland 'queen,' I thought. Her mother obviously took the time to educate her. "That," I said, "or you need to take over what's left and force them to heel. Considering what they put your grandmother, your aunt, your mother, even you through, it would be fair turnabout."

 

Quartercut had paced across the room as we spoke, and I'd followed a few steps behind. At length, she came to a half in front of a desk stacked with boxes of documents. "Look at this," she said, sifting through the papers with her good hand.

 

 

A moment later she withdrew a folder and offered it to me. I opened the manila cover to find a handful of black and white photographs inside. A much younger Quartercut - maybe 13 or 14 years old and still with all her limbs intact - was captured in a series of candid pictures. Vaulting over a fence, dangling from the facade of a building that looked in much better condition than today's Salem, and finally leaning back against a doorframe, arms folded and a smug smile on her face.

 

"The priesthood took all that away from me. And they kept taking and taking until I finally said no... and then they tried to force me. In fact, I think they were excited that I said no. They wanted to break me. It excited them. And I'm not ignorant... if they'd won, if they'd taken me alive, they would have broken me eventually. I can't... I won't become the leader of that. Some things need to die."

 

I grimaced inside my mask. "I hope you're right about them self-destructing, but you wanted my advice and so I'll give it: you need to give your people an alternative. You need... a philosophy, or motivating force, something to believe in. You can make it yourself, or you can find something out in the wasteland and invite it in."

 

"Something... out in the wasteland? That sounds a terrible idea."

 

"We're not really talking about good ideas versus bad ideas," I said, "we're talking the lesser of evils. I have the same problem in my homeland. In fact... God, this is embarrassing, but if anyone would understand it would be you. In my homeland there I seem to have attracted a cult that is turning me into a spiritual figure. It's maddening, even though I appreciate the complement."

 

Quartercut laughed at that. "You poor creature. With the kind of ideas you have, it must be torture seeing people want to worship you."

 

I turned away, scoffing a little. "You have no idea. But my point is, even if I wanted to, it would be futile to try and squash them. All I can do is try to steer them in a good direction and minimize any harm that comes from what they're doing."

 

Somewhat to my surprise, I felt a hand snake around from behind and cup my tummy. Whispering right next to where the power suit's audio pickup was situated she said, "for a ghoul you have such a tight body. Is it the suit that holds you together? Can you even take it off, or would you go to pieces?"

 

 

She was holding me very tight, and I wondered what had brought on this sudden attention. "I'm less ghoulish than you assume," I said at length. "Do you want to see my face?"

 

Quartercut released me, smiling. "I'd like that very much. You're the most interesting visitor I've had in a long time."

 

With only mild difficulty, I relaxed my throat and let the feeding and breathing tubes follow the air filter out of my mouth. It seemed that Quartercut wasn't expecting such a volume of machinery to come out of me, because she gave a little gasp. I started to reach for the helmet release, but Quartercut held up a hand to stop me.

 

Tentatively, curiously, she raised her fingers to the mouthguard that, like a ring gag, kept my mouth open and silenced my voice.

 

 

"Inside you're moist and pink like any human specimen," she said, before sliding her index finger into my mouth. I could feel it running along the side of my tongue as she said, "and warm, as well. Yes, I'd very much like to see your face, Charley."

 

I released the seals on my helmet and pivoted it open, setting it down on the nearby chair. "See, that's me. Not a ghoul."

 

"Indeed," she said. "Not a ghoul at all. Though I have to admit, I was hoping you'd have more hair."

 

"Sorry to disappoint," I said, "but I'm sure you can imagine how hard it is to put this thing on when it gets long."

 

 

"That's fair," she conceded. "And yet your stubble... is your hair pink?"

 

I nodded and she gave me an appraising look. "Our founder had pink hair like you. I'm sure you saw her portrait."

 

"I did. We got it the same way. In fact, now that you bring it up, I was curious. Do you know if your great grandmother had any health problems in her later years?"

 

Quartercut seemed surprised by the turn of the conversation, but she recovered quickly enough. "Most of what we have from those days is word of mouth. The priesthood didn't start keeping accounts until the time of Faithful... and the start of their reign. My mother told me that she was heartbroken over the failures of the people in her time and she retired here to live a simpler life, but I don't know much more than that. Well, that and the usual bits about choosing persuasion and turning away from violence, but that's so tied up with the priesthood's teachings that I have no idea if its Vaultsent's authentic beliefs. Why do you ask?"

 

"The pink hair," I explained, "it's from an excess of metals in my body. So far, it seems harmless, but my doctor is concerned about how it could affect my health in the future."

 

"Hmm, not the answer I expected. And I saw you didn't flinch away when I touched you. Are you accustomed to... being touched."

 

I smirked a little at that. "You know, I told my companions to behave themselves so we could make a good first impression. I'm starting to suspect that was a waste of effort."

 

"This would be the two naked women who follow you around?" Quartercut pressed, matching my smirk with a full-faced grin. "I was half hoping you'd brought them to share with me. You have no idea how many people will loudly proclaim they don't believe in the priesthood and their teachings, but they still don't want to touch me. Lest the curse get them."

 

"Of course there's a curse," I said, rolling my eyes.

 

We laughed together at that for a while, then I moved to retrieve my helmet. Quartercut, once more, stopped me. 

 

"You don't need that for now, at least not until you leave my hall. Let me see your face for a little longer, and perhaps share a meal with me. I'm sure you have more questions for me."

 

Breakfast was a simple affair - a porridge made from locally grown razorgrain with chunks of fried fish, along with a tart mutfruit cider. While we dined, I gave Quartercut a brief overview of affairs in the Commonwealth. Based on the salient questions she asked, I could tell that she was paying close attention. She seemed particularly interested in some of the parallels between the priests' ritual purity laws and Concord's dress code, as well as the complex web of trade that kept Diamond City alive. In exchange, she told me a great deal about the vicinity of Salem - which areas were safe, which ones to avoid, where I might find other small settlements. I also confirmed that Nick Valentine hadn't passed through Salem on the way to Beverly. I hoped this wouldn't turn into another 'where's Piper' type situation, but I decided to withhold any worry about that until I'd reached the homestead on Brackenbury Beach.

 

After we finished eating, Quartercut asked me to join her for a walk through town. By that point the rain had cleared, and the sad state of the city was even more evident than before. 

 

 

"This is what the priesthood brought to us," she said. "I know you're worried they'll come back, but all of this," she waved her hand across the space ahead of us, "is a reminder to everyone who lives here what they have to offer. Fear, ruin, and death."

 

"Zara told me about the gun turrets," I acknowledged.

 

"Exactly. I know you're trying to give me good advice, but spending more lives to wipe out the last few is just a waste. We have so much to rebuild... we need every hand put to that--"

 

Quartercut was interrupted by a series of loud cracks a few blocks away from us. It was obviously gunfire, and Quartercut hissed a single word. "Barney." 

 

"Someone you know?" I asked.

 

"He was the commander of my mother's guard force... but after the mirelurk invasion? He's never been the same. Still, without him we couldn't have disabled the priests' turrets. Would you do me a favor and check on him? I hope he's just shooting at shadows, but if there really is trouble," she poked her stump towards me, "I won't be much use."

 

"Sure," I said, "but I think its time for me to get my helmet back on. The suit won't do me any good if he drills my forehead with a rifle. Anything else I need to know?"

 

Quartercut shrugged. "He's harmless. Well, maybe not harmless since I can hear him popping off with that rifle of his, but he's not a threat to you. Be gentle with him. I just want to make sure he's OK."

 

Accepting that, I returned to the hall and had Piper help me get the helmet back on, then my companions and I followed the sound of gunfire until we found ourselves looking up at a hilltop house. All around it, I could see mirelurk carcasses. 

 

 

Heather saw the man first, pointing him out. He was standing under the ribs of a mostly-gone roof, surveying the street below.

 

"You Barney?" I called up to him. 

 

"Are you crazy?" he shouted back, "get out of the street before more of them catch wind of ya!"

 

"I think you got them all," I said, pointing at the dead mirelurks.

 

"Look, I'll open the gate... but you get in here quick. Don't make me regret this!"

 

Barney's house was barely furnished - while it looked mostly intact from the outside, the inside was mostly stripped. However, shortly after we met Barney at the gate, he showed us a concealed trap door and we descended into a spacious basement fallout shelter. 

 

 

"I wasn't expecting this," I admitted. "You've got a nice little place here."

 

Barney ignored my compliment and said, "Lady, did someone drop you on your head as a baby, or did you have to work to get that stupid?"

 

I was a little taken aback by his disrespect. "Excuse me?"

 

 

"If it weren't for me, you would have been cut up like a paper doll. Luckily I've got Reba here to crack those crabs open."

 

"I'm pretty sure they were all dead before we got there." Then I glanced over at the woman in the corner. "That Reba?"

 

"Pfft, no, that's my daughter Sharon. She doesn't say much. No, this is Reba right here," he said, patting his rifle.

 

"Wait, you're talking about your gun?" Heather said.

 

"She's not just a gun," Barney insisted, "she's top of the line. Best gun in the Commonwealth. I made her with my own two hands!"

 

"I see," was about all I could muster to that. "So you are Barney, right?"

 

"Ha! Barney Rook, commander of the Salem Volunteers, at your service!"

 

 

"Quartercut sent me to make sure you were OK. We heard the gunshots."

 

"Quarter cut," he scoffed. "Is she still pretending she's in charge?"

 

"I'm pretty sure it's a done deal at this point. The priests cleared out a few days ago. Town's quiet now."

 

"Quiet except for the crabs!" he challenged. "Listen, until that spoiled girl gives her other arm and her legs, she's no Queen of mine. And we're going to pay for her defiance. The crabs are already coming back, and they're not going to stop until she does the right thing."

 

Piper crooked an eyebrow at that, "you really think that's what's happening? The mirelurks are punishing her for not following the priests?"

 

"It already happened once!" he said, invigorated, "when her mother refused to give up her fancy clothes, the crabs came then and kept coming until she was dead. And now they're back. Coincidence? I think not!" 

 

"But it sounds like you're still putting in the work to stop them, even if you don't agree with Quartercut?"

 

"Look, girl, I've got my kid to keep safe. Though it was a lot easier when it wasn't just the two of us." He patted his rifle again, "but Reba and me, we'll keep our home safe at least. The rest of them? Well, that's on them."

 

"So you're OK here then? I can tell her there's nothing to worry about?"

 

"You tell her to get cut, and do it yesterday! I've seen her you know, she has the nerve to wear the Blessed Sleeves around town. The nerve!"

 

"The blessed sleeves?" I asked.

 

"I'm sure you've seen them - the long gloves and leggings? Those are supposed to hold her arms and legs when she delivers them to the temple. It's a challenge to the priests the way she wears them, like she's saying 'come and get 'em.' She's provoking the crabs, and my damn house is right in their path. So no, there's not nothing to worry about, you tell her that. Tell her she's putting my daughter in danger with her arrogance."

 

"I don't know if that's going to go over too well with her," Heather observed.

 

"Well, then we've got some work to do," Barney said. "And by 'we,' I most definitely mean 'you,' since you can't count on any of those other clowns to do it." 

 

 

"Tell me more," I said.

 

"Until not that long ago, the mirelurks were mostly quiet. Even with all the ruckus Quartercut was causing, there were only a few of them and the turrets always picked them off before they caused trouble."

 

"But the turrets aren't working anymore."

 

"Exactly. One of that stupid girl's people sweet talked me into giving them the access codes, and now the whole system's offline. And without the turrets, the mirelurks are getting deeper and deeper into town. So that's your mission, soldier. I need you to reactivate those turrets."

 

"That's not going to play well with Quartercut and her people," I pointed out. "They're still pretty upset about how the priests used the turrets to pick off people they didn't like."

 

"Well, I'm pretty upset about that too!" he spat, "what a waste of ammunition! But beggars can't be choosers and you need the turrets. So worry about popularity contests later and get it done first."

 

Grudgingly, I conceded, "that does sound like the right approach."

 

"Of course it's the right approach!" he said, "I'm a tactical genius. You need to activate the control computers - they're in all the high points around the city center. Just be careful - I'm sure there are more crabbies around. Hell, the town could be crawling with them by now."

 

At Piper's prompting, Barney took a moment to draw out a rough map of where the control consoles were located, after which we departed from his basement.

 

"Do you think we should talk to Quartercut first?" I asked after the trap door clanged back down.

 

 

"Shit yes, like... a thousand percent yes," Heather said immediately. "There's no way she'll trust you if you undermine her like that."

 

"I don't know," Piper said, "if its really this urgent, can we afford to wait and talk it out? People might be in danger right now."

 

"Come on, Piper, you know how things work in the real world," Heather countered. "This isn't just safety, it's politics too. Barney's obviously totally in the 'priesthood' party and the turrets were a big pain point for Quartercut's people. If you turn them on, then you're giving the priests a big political victory. It's the last thing she'd want to get sprung on her."

 

"But what if she says no?" Piper said. "Then we'll be responsible for people getting hurt or... I don't know? We just do it anyway? If that's the plan, then maybe we go with the whole 'better to ask forgiveness than permission' strategy. That always worked for me when I was chasing down a story."

 

"You also ended up in jail," Heather observed.

 

"I have to agree with Heather this time, Piper, this isn't our city, it's not our decision. I need to talk to Quartercut about this."

 

"Technically," Piper pushed, "it is your city according to the treaty with Vault 81."

 

I didn't get much more chance to argue with her - as we descended the hill from Barney's house, I could see more mirelurks moving along the streets. The sound of gunfire in the distance told me that this wasn't an isolated sighting.

 

 

We tried to push our way down Bridge Street, but every time we cut a swathe through the mirelurks it seemed like more came at us from a different direction. It really made me wish the old MBTA line to Beverly hadn't been ripped out before the war. That would have given me a straight shot back Quartercut's hall. Unfortunately, I didn't have that option and we had to try and fight our way through the city. Before long, the capacitor on my laser rifle was running low and I found myself fighting at increasingly close quarters.

 

As I ran perilously close to running dry on firepower, I tried to choose my shots carefully and focus on getting into a defensible position, but that just gave the mirelurks more time to get in close. I almost managed to ascend some scaffolding into the upper floors of a ruined building, but not fast enough. Thick, chitinous claws clamped down on my arms and even as I struggled I watched clacking jaws get closer and closer to my face.

 

 

I pushed the power suit as far as it could go, and with a tremendous effort I felt the claws' grip on me loosening. Just before I got free (or just before it chomped down on my face, depending on your point of view), I heard a high pitched whine and the mirelurk staggered as bullets pounded into it. I fell to the floor, and even as I was recovering my feet I heard Piper shouting to me.

 

"Charley! Up here!" she was up on the top of the building I'd been trying to get into, and I didn't waste any time clambering up the scaffolding. 

 

After catching my breath for just a moment, I realized that the whining howl was still ringing in my ears - as the turrets watching over this stretch of houses opened up on the mirelurks.

 

"Fuck," I whispered, "so much for getting permission."

 

Piper shrugged. "I told you forgiveness was easier." Then she pointed at a nearby shelf. "I think Barney left something for you, too."

 

"Shit, is that what I think it is?" I asked, rhetorically, even as I hefted the tactical nuke launcher up onto my shoulder. "Yeah, this ought to even the odds a bit."

 

The weight of the weapon was staggering, especially after I'd just redlined all the suit's artificial muscles, but I managed to line up a shot against a big concentration of the mirelurks and lob the shell more or less into their center. 

 

 

The shockwave knocked Heather on her ass and caused most of a nearby building facade to cave in, but it left behind a whole slew of steaming mirelurk shells, their insides cooked in a split second. Tossing the heavy launcher aside, I drew my sidearm and quickly put down another mirelurk.

 

The monsters that had survived the nuclear attack had recovered their feet by now, but so had Heather, and so while we fired on them from street level, Piper and the gun turrets took them from above. It still felt like we were fighting against overwhelming odds, but just when it looked like we were going to get overrun again, we got some support in the form of armed locals pushing towards us from the south. That gave me a moment to switch weapons, and with my laser rifle in hand again I led my companions to finish the pincer movement.

 

 

The swarm seemed to finally start subsiding at that point, and I turned to the leader of the militia that had come to our aid.

 

"Thanks," I said, "but we need to get the rest of the turrets online. There's just too many of them to fight otherwise!"

 

"No objections here," she said. "let's not waste any time."

 

 

We spent most of the afternoon dashing from high point to high point, plugging in Barney's password and getting the turrets running again. It was probably the most intense battle I'd been in at that point - certainly more intense than the battle at Joint Base Hagen, for example. But the turrets did their job and gradually the mirelurks' ranks thinned, and then dispersed. 

 

Quartercut wasn't in her hall, but Zara pointed me in the right direction. There's a little park south of the church that once upon a time had the Bewitched statue. Sadly, at some point someone had torn it down and all that was left was the stone base. Quartercut was there, though, along with a not-insignificant part of her militia. It looked like they'd seen their share of action during the fight.

 

"Charley," she said. "You turned on the turrets, didn't you?"

 

I nodded. "I'm sorry, I wanted to get your permission first, but the mirelurks can on too strong and too fast. We wouldn't have made it without the extra firepower."

 

She waved me off with her remaining hand. "Don't apologize. You did the right thing. Is Barney all right?"

 

 

"He's... not your biggest admirer. But he's OK. His daughter, too."

 

Quartercut seemed relieved to hear that, but also sad. "Barney Rook was one of my mother's most trusted advisors. I was counting on him to help me adapt to being Queen... but I never imagined that he'd put the priests before me. Even though he betrayed me, though, I don't have the heart to punish him. I'm just glad he's safe."

 

"He thinks this is all a curse you've brought down."

 

The Queen laughed. "Of course he does. In a sense, he might even be right. I have a suspicion that the priests had some role in riling up the mirelurks last time, and this time, well..."

 

She shook her head, "it might be a coincidence, but last night, while you were sleeping, I got a report that there were lights across the river at the old fishery. I don't think it was a coincidence."

 

"You think the priests did something to agitate the mirelurks?"

 

"Exactly. I know you're planning to continue on to Beverly... would it be asking too much for you to stop by the fishery on the way there? I don't expect you to burn your way through the whole thing... I just want evidence that the priests were behind this."

 

I nodded, "consider it my apology for turning on the turrets without asking you first."

 

Quartercut scowled, "I already told you, you don't need to apologize."

 

"Then consider it a favor on behalf of the people of Concord. You can pay it back by agreeing to trade with us... at least once we figure a safe way to get people up this way."

 

"Alright, now that's a fair exchange. Thank you, Charley. For someone I only met yesterday, you're a good friend."

 

Before we even got to the fishery, we encountered signs of major trouble. Half-eaten dolphin carcases, large clusters of mirelurk eggs... and between us and the fishery complex, a truly enormous specimen of the species. 

 

 

Heather was on point, and she waved to me to back off. We tried, but before we could slip away we'd caught their attention and we were fighting for our lives. Again.

 

With some good cooperation and a lot of luck, I managed to lure the big one between two buildings and just held down the trigger on the laser rifle until its fusion core gave up the ghost. By then, the monster was steaming from dozens of penetrations, and Heather finished it with a well-thrown hand grenade while Piper held off the smaller specimens. Examining its remains, I observed that the big one was easily twenty feet tall.

 

 

"Can you imagine if one of these got into Salem?" I asked no one in particular. "I'm starting to understand some of the building damage we saw. Hah, and I wish I had more ammo for that nuke launcher. That would have made things a lot easier."

 

"Look at this," Piper said from a ways off.

 

Heather was a step ahead of me and when we reached my wife, Heather groaned loudly. "Well, I think we've got a theory on why the mirelurks were upset."

 

 

Bright orange radioactive waste barrels were strewn all over the beach, with many very close to the egg clusters. At least some of them showed signs of having been recently dragged into place.

 

"So what, someone pulled hazardous waste out of the fishery and dumped it here to hurt the eggs? Then the mirelurks got angry and attacked the city?"

 

"That's what I'm thinking," Piper said.

 

Heather nodded in agreement. "If these came from the fishery, maybe we can make it so whoever did this can't repeat the performance in the future."

 

"And hopefully, we can find evidence of who it was," I added.

 

It didn't take us too much longer to reach the fishery, and even before we entered the looming building, the panoply of fresh corpses strewn outside told us to expect trouble.

 

 

"Did raiders do this, or the priests?" Heather mused.

 

"I'm not sure there's all that much difference," I pointed out. 

 

"I mean, you're not wrong. The whole dismembering thing is totally something I could see Red dreaming up."

 

The initial evidence seemed to point to 'both' being the answer. In addition to the naked, mutilated corpses we continued to encounter, we found a lot of dead raiders, seemingly gunned down at strongpoints and guardposts. My working theory as we entered the fishery was that raiders had been living here for at least some time, but someone else had cleared them out and proceeded to harass the mirelurks.

 

It was eerily quiet inside the fishery, with no signs of life or motion. I did spot an amateurish trap involving a barely-hidden landmine, and while I knelt down to disarm it I asked my companions, "so, is it too much to ask that this place is empty and all we have to do is look for evidence?"

 

Heather snorted, "you totally jinxed us."

 

"Ugh, I hope not," I groaned.

 

 

We pushed into the building carefully, mindful that there might be more traps waiting for us, but no new threats confronted us. Just more dead raiders and all the signs that whoever had wiped them out hadn't made any effort to turn the place for their own use. After we swept the first floor, I led Piper up to a raised office area and stopped - two things immediately caught my attention.

 

First, the office contained a computer terminal that looked like it was still working. I immediately hoped it would offer some insight into what happened here. Second, there was a dismembered body on the floor. Not only had the limbs been sawn off, but it looked like the skin had been peeled off the poor bastard's face and his penis roughly severed. I didn't see any sign of the missing cock, but the rest of his parts were arranged spread-eagled on the floor.

 

 

"What do you think, Piper? This smells like the priesthood. You think they left this body here to send a message."

 

"Maybe," my wife said, "but this is pretty in-your-face. If I wanted to stir the pot and blame it on the priests, I'd pull something like this to incriminate them."

 

"True. Maybe that terminal has more to tell us."

 

Unfortunately, the terminal was a bust - just full of prewar records. I was actually rather surprised that the raiders hadn't put it to some kind of use, but it seemed like it had been completely left alone. I supposed that Cain or one of her colleagues might find some historical value in the data, which related to seasonal fishing yields, but it was useless to me and certainly did shed any light on recent events.

 

Pushing further into the administrative offices, we found another body, similarly cut up and unmanned, roughly impaled on the jagged remains of a freestanding shelf.

 

"Remind me not to surrender to anyone around here," Piper said, "it seems like being a prisoner here just doesn't end well."

 

 

Heather made an observation then. "On both of these bodies, they only cut off three of the limbs. Is that, like, supposed to be a message to Quartercut?"

 

"Telling her that they're coming to take the other three that she's got?" I asked. Heather nodded in assent. "Yeah, that's definitely a possibility. Another argument in favor of the priests being behind this."

 

We found a third body with the same pattern of mutilation at the other end of the office area, hanging from a meat hook - and also another computer terminal, though once more it didn't have anything to tell us. 

 

"What's the odds that there was something on these computers, but it got erased before we left?" I mused.

 

Heather said, "anything's possible. Are you thinking that we're just seeing what someone wants us to see?"

 

"I can't shake the feeling," I admitted. "Stay sharp, something doesn't feel right here."

 

Piper smirked. "Something other than the chopped up bodies?" 

 

I rolled my eyes, "you know what I mean. But I don't think we're going to find anything in these offices. Let's move on, see if we can find anything in the other parts of the plant."

 

We returned the ground floor for another sweep and, after finding nothing, descended into the processing area in the basement. At first, it looked like more of the same: dismembered bodies, dead raiders, debris strewn around, and then I heard a footfall that wasn't coming from the direction of my companions. I quickly doused my light and crouched down, looking for any sign of movement. The quick action paid off, and a moment later I saw a black-clad figure walk under a swinging light.

 

 

I'd seen that uniform before. On Institute Synths. After a few moments, the Synth turned and started descending a ramp. Carefully, I readied my laser rifle and then started to follow, sticking to the shadows as best as I could. 

 

I thought we were doing a good job sneaking, but from the direction the Synth had gone I heard a synthesized voice say, 'movement detected. Curious."

 

We froze, pressing against a wall well out of the light.

 

"Is someone present?" The Synth asked.

 

I moved, painfully slowly, towards an overhang, trying to get a view down into the pit without revealing myself. I was so, so close when I heard a voice from the other direction, "I have detected you." That was immediately followed by Heather cursing and the sounds of automatic weapons fire. 

 

I gave up on the sneaking strategy then, rising to my feet and bringing my gun to bear over the railing of the pit. I took down the one I'd tried to follow as behind me the tempo of shooting picked up. 

 

"Get back to the elevator!" I heard Piper shout, but the Synths seemed to be everywhere now. Even as I backed off, my power suit caught, and thankfully absorbed, several laser blasts. The flash momentarily blinded me, and a second later when I could see again one of the Synths had rushed almost on top of me, brandishing a retractable baton. Steam and smoke billowed off him as I poured laser fire into his torso and head, but before he collapsed he delivered a solid whack to my head, forcing me to stagger back a few feet before I recovered my balance.

 

 

"Charley! Hurry up!" Heather yelled. I gunned down two more Synths, then made a dash for the elevator. Energy bolts flashed around me, and I staggered as something hit me hard in the side. Concurrent with the hit, I heard the loud boom of a shotgun, and I felt my shoulder press hard into the concrete wall. I pushed off and kept running, my head swimming, and I triggered the biofuel system. As the drug-laced foam filled me up, my vision cleared and I felt more sure in my footing. Dashing under a catwalk, I looked up and blasted a Synth who was trying to draw a bead on me from up there. Silently, it crumpled and tumbled off the raised platform.

 

I could see the elevator just beyond, and I pushed even harder to reach it. Something hit me hard in the upper chest and I felt my feet going out from under me on the slick floor. A moment later, I was surrounded by light as, with a hiss of ignition, the slurry of machine oil and fuel that I'd slipped on ignited.

 

 

I rolled out of the blaze, thankfully discovering that the oily mess rolled right off my suit, then covered the final few feet to the elevator. As soon as I crossed the threshold, Piper slapped the button and we rose out of the processing area back towards the ground floor. As we ascended, Heather leaned over the edge of the platform and squeezed off another burst of gunfire.

 

"And that," she said, "is twenty."

 

"Fuck me," I said, trying to catch my breath, "you're keeping count?!"

 

"Oh course," she said, "I owe those motherfuckers for College Point, and I'm totally keeping score."

 

Unfortunately, the excitement wasn't quite over yet. As the elevator came to a stop, we almost immediately started taking fire from above - if the offices had been empty before, they weren't anymore. I felt the hit of warmth and focus as my suit injected a stimpak, and I vaulted over the railing of the elevator platform to lead my companions into cover behind a freight trailer. We followed that pattern, alternating shooting, running, and ducking into cover as we laboriously made our way to the exit.

 

 

The Synths apparently weren't satisfied with just letting us go, and we engaged in a cat and mouse game all the way back to the protective cover of Salem's turret system. Only then did the Synths back off, but I was pretty confident we weren't out of trouble yet. By then it was dawn, and I was feeling exhausted; all the stimulants my suit had pumped me full of during the running battle were wearing off and I was crashing hard. Still, I took the time to track down Quartercut and tell her what we've learned.

 

She was lounging on her bed, apparently planning to enjoy a late morning, and I felt a little bad taking that away from her. Still, what I'd learned warranted it.

 

"I've got good news and bad news," I started.

 

"Uuuh, can't this wait?" she asked groggily.

 

 

"Sorry, I don't think it can."

 

"Alright, fine. What's the good news?"

 

"The good news is that if you don't want to be forced into attacking the holdouts, you don't have to."

 

"Oh?" she asked, perking up slightly. "Why's that?"

 

"The mirelurk incursion yesterday - and maybe even the one that happened during your mother's time - they were outside provocations. You were meant to think this one was caused by the priesthood, but they were just being used as patsies."

 

Quartercut let out a long breath before sitting up. "You've got my full attention now. Talk."

 

"Alright, let me ask you this first: how much do you know about The Institute?"

 

 

 

 

 

Behind The Scenes

Barney's Salem quest does not play nice with mods that turn Salem into a settlement. While I was able to edit around it, the turrets went through a weird loyalty cascade where settlement keywords ended up attached to the quest mirelurks. This meant that when the turrets shot them, the settlement residents became hostile to the turrets. The turrets then fired on the residents, putting some of them into a surrender state. Ultimately, after the fight I loaded an earlier save, but even using KAH to kill all the mirelurks and then turn on the turrets in a peaceful environment didn't work. So I just blew up the turrets after I turned them on.

 

Also, the geography of this region is a mess. The in-game map is heavily simplified, and it appears that Salem as a whole is actually situated in nearby Marblehead, while Mahkra Fishery is located where you'd expect to find Salem. It made correlating Fallout locations to real-life equivalents kind of confusing at times.