New Vegas: Sheason's Story

Chapter 25: A Little Less Conversation

That was Vera Keys, singing her calming melody "Let the Bright Tomorrow in." This is Radio New Vegas, and I'm your host, Mr. New Vegas. It's the top of the hour, so you know what that means - time for some news. Residents living north east of Vegas have reported an increased number of explosions in the already bombed-out neighborhoods surrounding Nellis Air Force Base. I don't know what's gotten the Boomers all riled up like that, but if you want my advice? Steer clear. Today's headlines were brought to you by the Lady Luck casino in Freeside, wishing you lady like luck tonight. Ladies and Gentlemen, this next song goes out from me to you. It's Bing Crosby, reminding us of those times when you absolutely have to kiss the person you love. "Something's Gotta Give" up next.

ED-E had disappeared.

A few seconds after Orris had been blown apart, ED-E had flown off, presumably in pursuit of the assassin. I was left in that alley, trying to piece together what the fuck had just happened, while question after question barreled through my head. That assassin who had disappeared - who was he, or she, or it? Why kill Orris? Why use such a big gun on a soft target like Orris? The kind of blast that gun produced looked like something you'd use to kill someone wearing Powered Armor or sitting inside a tank, not armor made out of bits of rusted motorcycles. Why use a stealth boy? Why couldn't I make out any details about the shooter? There were just too many questions to which I just couldn't figure out the answers.

The worst part was that energy blast hadn't exactly been subtle. We were off the beaten path in a back street alley, sure, and it's not like Freeside had any sort of law that I knew of apart from the Kings but the noise was bound to draw the attention of someone, and probably very soon. So if I was going to do anything to try and figure out what was going on, I'd have to do it fast.

I knelt down next to what was left of his legs and started looking through the thigh panels in Orris' armor. There wasn't much just the 200 caps I'd paid him, plus a few hundred extra caps. I found some ammo for his pistol sure enough, the rounds he had for that hunting revolver were blanks. He also had a passport for the Strip, a pair of keys, a couple of pencils, a fission battery, a dozen playing cards, a few folded up scraps of paper, and several hundred NCR dollars in twenties that I wasn't too ashamed to put in my own pockets.

What I didn't expect to find were the coins. There were about two dozen metal coins, with ten made out of silver, and the rest made out of gold and both types of coins were embossed with a very familiar head with a large hook nose. They both had writing as well - the silver said "Caesar Dictator" on the front, and the gold said "Aeternit Imperi." This was Legion currency, no doubt, and if nothing else it just raised more questions.

I didn't really have time to question any further however, because I heard the muffled sounds of voices and footfalls from around the corner of one of the nearby buildings. So I grabbed what I could of the cash, holstered Roscoe, and bolted before anyone arrived and could find me standing over what was left of a man that had been blown in half.

According to my Pip Boy, it was just a little after 3pm as I walked along Las Vegas Boulevard. Either no one had seen me leaving where Orris had died or no one cared. And it's not like there weren't people around, either. There weren't too many crowds, but it wasn't empty like the ghost town in my coma-hallucination from a few days ago.

As I walked along, I really started taking stock of the state of Freeside. Nearly every time I'd travelled through Freeside since coming to Vegas, I'd passed through in my car, and hadn't really paid attention unless I needed to go somewhere. But now that I was paying attention for every group of well dressed people heading south towards The Strip, there was another group of people wearing rags, unwashed and unshaven, huddled around a burning trashcan. For every shop or restaurant that proudly proclaimed they were open for business, there were just as many buildings that were boarded up with broken windows, trash scattered around, and covered in graffiti. For every six or seven story casino decked out in neon lights and flashy signs, there was another building that had collapsed in on itself from 200 years of wear, disrepair, and abuse.

Then I took a look behind me. The skyscrapers of The Strip loomed over Freeside, and, of course, the most monolithic of them all was the Lucky 38. Compared to Freeside, The Strip was practically pristine, full of money, and people willing to spend it. It was an oasis, a shining beacon of civilization. But, in a way, it was menacing, somehow. I've been in some bad places before, but for some reason the fact that Freeside, with all its poverty and destitute masses living in the shadow of the wealth and excess of The Strip, made it the most depressing.

An oasis is a fine, welcome relief when you find it. But the biggest problem with an oasis is that, by its very nature, a wasteland of lifelessness must surround it.

I just kept walking for a while, losing myself in my thoughts. And then, I was suddenly interrupted by a familiar voice.

"Well, hey there, stranger. Need a lift?" I looked up, and there was Cass behind the wheel of my car, rolling alongside me as I walked along. Veronica was in the passenger seat, Arcade was in the back, and ED-E was hovering just above the roof. I stopped walking, and Cass rolled the Corvega to a halt.

"Uh hi guys," I was more than a little confused. "What are you doing here? I thought you'd all be out... you know, doing stuff."

"Well, we kinda were. We went to th' El Cortez, did a bit'a gamblin'," Cass said, getting out of the car and tossing me the keys. "It was pretty fun, y'should come along next time."

"But right when I was about to make a killing at the blackjack table," Veronica interrupted, getting out of the car and leaning on the roof "ED-E showed up out of nowhere, beeping at us like he did when you were in trouble at The Fort." The eyebot hovered near her and she patted his chassis. He chirped contentedly.

"So, are you?" Arcade leaned out of the back window. "I mean, I don't see any heavily armed thugs beating the shit out of you..."

"Heh... no, I'm fine," I said, shaking my head and chuckling.

"See?" Arcade leaned back in the backseat. "What did I tell you? I told you there was nothing to worry about."

"The only reason you said that was because you don't trust ED-E," Veronica chided. ED-E hovered close to her and gave a satisfied electronic chirp.

"Well, thanks, I appreciate you guys coming to find me so fast," Frankly, I was a bit at a loss for words.

"You'd do th' same for any one of us," Cass stated, matter-of-factly.

"Yes I would," I replied with a nod, and without thinking. As I said it, I realized I meant it. I really would do anything I could to help them if I found out they were in some kind of trouble. I hadn't known any of them for very long - I'd known Cass and ED-E the longest, but I'd only known those two for about a week. Despite that, I already considered all of them really close friends. I suppose it's hard to describe, but that's just the way it is.

"Only thing is," I said with a smirk "you guys don't seem to get in the same kind of trouble that I do."

"Yeah, speaking of trouble, where's that Orris guy?" Arcade looked out of the back window again. "Aren't you supposed to be busy pretending to be a helpless tourist or something?"

"Yeah... about that..."

"Let me see if I've got this straight," Veronica stated as we drove through Freeside. "Everything was going fine, right up to the point when what's-his-face exploded."

"That doesn't make sense, tho," Cass said from the passenger seat. "Th' way you were describing him, he sounded like a grade-a fuck up."

"A bit of an idiot," Veronica added.

"Exactly," Cass nodded, leaning back in her chair. "Who'd waste th' time'n effort blowin' him up?"

"What about you, Arcade?" I added. He perked his head up, and looked confused.

"Sorry, what?"

"You've just been awful quiet during my story," I said. "What's your take on this whole thing?"

"I'm just trying to figure out what the assassin might have used," Arcade furrowed his brow and started stroking his chin. "You said there was a really loud explosion like a thunderbolt, a beam of blue energy, and then he got blown in half, right?" I nodded.

"It all happened kind of at once, but pretty much, yeah."

"That sounds kind of like the discharge from a Tesla Cannon," Veronica spoke up.

"That sounds kind of like the discharge from a Tesla Rifle prototype," Arcade said at exactly the same time as Veronica. The two of them just sort of turned and stared at each other. Cass, on the other hand, chuckled.

"What are you talking about, Tesla Rifle?" Veronica asked Arcade. "It's not a rifle, it's a shoulder mounted cannon."

"I'm a bit confused as to how you know what a Tesla Cannon is in the first place..." Arcade studied her intently. "What did you say you did again?"

"Procurement specialist," Veronica responded quickly, completely deadpan. Arcade merely rolled his eyes.

"What, is that just another fancy name for scavenger? Kind of like how people in the Mojave insist on calling it 'prospecting' instead of calling it what it actually is?"Foll𝑜ow current novÊls on nov3lb((in).(com)

"Man," Cass had been leaning over her chair, watching the two in the backseat. "You two sound like an' old married couple, y'know that, right?" When the two of them looked back at her with a look of abject horror, Cass busted out laughing. Both of them shook their heads simultaneously.

"Ew," the two of them said, practically in unison.

"If you two can manage to stop bickering for a moment," I pulled the Corvega to a stop outside The Kings School of Impersonation. "I think we're here."

"What do you have for me?" The King asked, reclining in his chair in the theater. Up on the stage was another one of the Kings, sitting on a stool with a guitar across his lap.

"Orris was a fraud," I said simply, sitting down in the chair next to him. "He faked attacks on his clients with like 3 or 4 hired goons and then played hero. I mean, hell, his gun had blanks." The King just sort of nodded, and he furrowed his brow slightly.

"So, that's how it happens... Okay then, I'll have some guys pull him off the street when no one's looking."

"Actually," I said, scratching the back of my head, and trying to look nonchalant. "Orris shouldn't really be a problem any longer. If you catch my meaning?" I had decided on the drive over to keep quiet to The King about the assassin. I don't think he would've believed me anyway.

"Ah. It went down like that, huh? Spare me the details," he shrugged and gave his dog a scratch behind the ears. "I guess it can't be helped now. You're not subtle, but you get the job done, and done quick. That's good enough for me. So maybe you can help me with something else."

"Another job, eh?" I asked. The King nodded. "So what's the deal this time? I hope it's not pretending to be helpless again, 'cause that didn't really work so well."

"Nah, nothing like that. I was just hoping you could help out a couple of friends of mine."

"Is this just what the Kings do then?" I asked. "Put bullies in their place, and help people out around Freeside?" The King just chuckled.

"A bit, yeah. See, the thing you gotta understand, is this: Freeside is my home. It's home to every one of the Kings. More than that, though, it's home to a lot of really good people. But things around here have gotten... well, pretty dangerous, to be honest. It wasn't always like this, though."

"It wasn't?" I asked, honestly a bit shocked. Even back West, in "civilized" places in the NCR like Shady Sands, Sac-Town, or Vault City, there was still violence, crime, gangs...

"No. Back in the old days, we were all just tribes or scavengers living in this area, just trying to make a living. And then, about ten years ago now, Mr. House came around, made an offer to the three biggest tribes willing to listen. They became the Three Families, and started running the first three casinos he opened on the Strip. He made more offers to other tribes as he opened up more casinos, until he filled up the Strip. The rest of us outside the gates were left to fight over the crumbs, living in the shadow of those more fortunate. Things got pretty nasty for a while."

"So how do the Kings fit in with all this?" I asked. "Did you guys step in when the fighting started, bring the peace?" The King shook his head.

"Not really. Well, not right away. See, the Kings were never really a tribe. Not until me and Pace found this place, I guess."

"Pace?" I tried thinking back to all the Kings whose names I knew: Vince, Jimmy, Clint, Danny... Didn't know a Pace.

"Yeah, Pacer, you know?" I just continued to stare at him blankly. "You've probably seen him around, he's the big guy, likes wearin' the jailhouse rocker outfit."

"Oh, you mean the guy who tried to get some caps out of me when I first got here?" I asked. The King shrugged.

"Tried to get some money from you, did he? Don't judge him too harshly for that. He probably took you for a squatter, looking for a place to settle down. Anyway, he and I founded The Kings when we discovered this place. We were practically kids at the time. It was all boarded up, run down, didn't look like anybody had touched it since before the bombs. Near as I can tell, this place was some sort of religious institution."

"Seriously?" I deadpanned. The King just chuckled.

"Oh, I know it says 'school' out front, but everything in here was related to the worship of some guy from back in the day, who folks held up to be the epitome of cool. People used to come here from all around to learn about him, to dress like him, dance like him, sing like him, move like him, even speak like him. To be him. If that's not worship, I don't know what is."

"So, is that what you guys do, pretend to be this guy?"

"Somethin' like that, yeah. There were some holotapes here when we first arrived, but they stopped working a few years back, so I think Pace and I are the only ones left who still remember what he sounds like. But the thing of it is, we don't even know his real name. All the posters you saw out in the other room, they all just referred to him as "The King."

"And that's where you got the name from."

"Well, that and the giant sign outside," The King smirked. "This place could've been 'The King's House of Dog Chow' and I still would have taken the name." He scratched Rex behind the ears. "I like to think we keep the memory alive... see, The Kings are different than other gangs. And not just because we dress better. We're all about an idea, you see? Where every man is free to follow his own path, do his own thing. Where every man is a king in his own right. That's why we stepped up, to help quiet things down. The people living here... we wanted a place of our own. A place where nobody could tell us what to do - and more than that, we didn't want to go elsewhere to find it. So we took control of this place, and made it our own. That's all Freeside is, really. It's the best of a bad situation."

I nodded, thinking over all he'd told me. I could be wrong, but I think The King was the first truly, legitimately decent human being I'd ever met. Here he was, a guy with practically a small army, and what does he do with his influence? He tries to help people, to try and make Freeside safer... to make life for everyone living here better. The kind of person who does that just doesn't exist.

"Alright," I finally said. "So, what's the job?"

"Ever since the Strip was finished, a lot of people have arrived who couldn't afford to get in, and have just ended up squatting in Freeside. A lot of the locals resent the sheer number of newcomers. Most, but not all, of the newcomers have come from the NCR. In turn, a lot of the newcomers have gotten ornery from all the hate directed their way. Sometimes, things get violent. This is one of those times. A few friends of mine were attacked recently, and I want you to find out who did it before any of my boys jump to conclusions. Word's come down that they're over at the Old Mormon Fort just north of here. Head on over and see if they remember anything."

"Goddamn, I could use a drink," I heard Cass mumble from the passenger seat as I drove through Freeside.

"So, drink something," I replied, only half joking. "Where's that flask I always see you carrying?"

"If I had anything to drink, I'd be drinkin' it already. B'sides, I ran outta whiskey fer m'flask, like, two hours ago."

"Well, it was bound to happen eventually," Veronica leaned into the front and playfully patted Cass on the shoulder. "Queen Whiskey has finally run dry!"

"Pfft," Cass scoffed, tipping her hat further back on her head. "Not a chance. I'll find somethin' soon, just you watch."

"Hey, Sheason?" Arcade spoke up, ignoring the other two. "You said we were headed back to the Old Mormon Fort, right?" I nodded.

"Yeah, The King wants me to check on some friends of his that got beat up. I think he said their names were Roy and Wayne, or something like that. Why?"

"Alright. I'm probably going to stick around the Fort for a while. Got a few things to do, and I need to talk to Julie about a couple of things, too."

"Fine by me, man," I shrugged. "Take as long as you need."

I parked the Corvega and made my way to the gates of the Mormon Fort. It was almost exactly like I remembered it from a few days ago.

"Hell, Mr. Fisher. Welcome back!" I heard a cheery voice to my side. It was Julie Farkas, her mohawk as pointy and outrageous as ever. "You look healthy, considering the last time I saw you. I take it Usanagi treated you well?"

"Well enough, I suppose," I said with a shrug. "Arcade wanted to talk with you, though."

"Oh, hello Arcade. I didn't see you back there." Arcade just sort of nodded.

"Now, before you two get involved in some discussion about science and medicine using words half of us have never heard of and don't know the meaning of, I actually had a question myself. I'm looking for these two guys, Roy and Wayne? The King wanted me to check up on them." Julie just smiled sweetly.

"That sounds like The King. We've actually had a large number of injuries from fights breaking out the last several days. You can find those two in the big medical tent on the southern edge of the Fort."

The inside of the tent smelled like vomit and formaldehyde.

It was easily the largest tent in the Old Mormon Fort, with at least two dozen medical gurneys, with what looked like stained cots resting on top of each. A few in the far back looked like they'd been converted into makeshift operating tables. Nearly every cot was occupied, with people sitting or lying on them - some had more than one person. For all the injured, there were only two doctors in Followers labcoats hovering about, checking on people.

To my left, I saw a man sitting on a nearby cot. He had an old, wrinkled face and thinning white hair - I could only see half of his face, though, because of a large bandage and an eye patch covering his left eye. He was wearing some brownish grey rags, and his right arm was in a sling. His one visible eye was closed.

"Hey, uh..." I gently nudged him in the shoulder, and he scrunched his face up in a grimace. "I hate to bother you, but do you know where I can find Roy and Wayne?"

"Goddamn, what now?" he groaned, turning to me. "Can't you see I want to be left alone with my friend here?" He motioned to the black man lying on the cot across from him. His friend's right arm was in a cast, and he was wearing a dark red hoodie that had been amateurishly stitched together - it looked like the kind of job I'd have done. He was softly snoring in that way people do when they're only pretending to be asleep.

"Look," I said. "The King asked me to look into their attack. Do you know where I can find them?"

"The King?" The old man raised his visible eyebrow, and his friend stirred. "Oh, well, that's different then. I'm Roy. That's Wayne over there."

"Is there anything you can tell me about the attack, like who was responsible?" I asked.

"Well, it happened pretty late last night. Around eleven, I think. The pair of us had made some caps off a bit of scrap we found, so we decided to invest it wisely."

"Invest?" Veronica asked from behind me. Roy just nodded.

"Yeah, we went to the Wrangler." Cass and I exchanged amused looks, and Veronica just shook her head as Roy continued.

"Anyway, when we left, I think we must have taken a wrong turn somewhere, because we ended up in the squatter side of town. Out of nowhere, these big guys showed up and started barking questions at us. Wanted to know if we were locals. The kid there's about as proud as a local gets around here, and started yelling back at them. Next thing I know, I'm facedown in the dirt getting the snot kicked out of me. The kid got the worst of it, though." I just raised an eyebrow at that, looking at the two of them.

"Seriously? No offense, but you look pretty beat up," Cass chimed in, giving voice to what I was thinking.

"Yeah, well," Roy coughed loudly. "That's just because I'm old and fragile. Wayne over there, he's still at that age where you're made of rubber and magic."

"Do you remember anything about the people who attacked you?" I asked. "Something I might be able to tell The King to identify them by?" Roy shook his head.

"Not really, no. It was really dark, so I didn't get a good look at them before I was face down on the ground. Wayne saw more than I did," he nudged to cot across from him with his foot, and Wayne stirred himself 'awake.' "It's okay Wayne. The King sent him." Wayne sat up, and only opened one of his eyes; his right eye looked swollen shut.

"That true? Did The King really send you?" I nodded.

"He did. And anything you could tell me about what happened might help."

"Well..." Wayne looked a little nervous. "I don't really know what else I can add. They were a bunch of guys... better dressed than most Freesiders, I guess. That help?"

"Every little bit helps, thanks," I nodded, thinking about that. "Do you mean like someone from The Strip better dressed?" Wayne shook his head.

"No, they weren't suits, they were... well, kind of better dressed like you guys, actually," I blinked, and realized that he was right - Cass, Veronica and I really did look better dressed than most people around Freeside. Although, that probably was just because we'd gotten the chance to wash with clean water recently.

"Sorry I couldn't help more, especially since you're being so nice," Wayne added, drooping his shoulders a bit. Suddenly, he perked up and snapped his fingers with the arm that wasn't in the cast. "Hey, wait! I just remembered something. I think one of the guys that beat us up called the other by name. We'd just about had it when one of them said 'Hey Lou, we gotta go!'"

"Alright, so, we're looking for a guy named Lou? I'm sure that narrows things down," Veronica said with a chuckle.

"Well, I think he said Lou," Wayne furrowed his brow, and looked like he was really thinking hard about this. "It might have been something else... now that I think about it, it was Lou... something. I think it was something with a T," Wayne paused, and then practically shouted "Tenant! That's what he called him, Lou Tenant!" He beamed at us, and looked very pleased with himself. I think I heard the unmistakable slap of Veronica burying her face in her palm behind me.

"He probably said 'Lieutenant,' Wayne," I heard Roy chide his friend before turning back to me. "The boy means well, but he's as dumb as a mutant sometimes." I couldn't help but chuckle a bit.

"Hey, don't worry about it, man. I'll be sure to tell The King what you told me."

"I really hope you find the bastards that did this," Roy said, grimacing as he shifted position on the cot. "Things in Freeside haven't been this bad since right before the riots when the Strip filled up."

"So, you found anything out yet?" The King asked when I stepped back into the theater.

"Well, I talked to your friends. They were attacked by soldiers - one of them called the other a Lieutenant." The King didn't look surprised at all. He just sort of nodded.

"Bunch of soldier boys, huh? If they're soldiers, that means they're NCR. They usually don't come around these parts since their big base is on the other side of the Strip. If they're comin' over here now, it's got to be a for a reason. I didn't want to believe the rumors that they're looking to take over Vegas, but now... if something big is going down, I'm sure rumors of it will have spread. Ask around, over in the squatter areas where the NCR folk hang."

"Got any other leads?" I asked, shoving my hands in my pockets. "Last time I had to get information out of squatters, I had to pay through the nose before I got anything I could use."

"Alright, that's fair enough," The King shrugged. "You might also mosey back on over to the Mormon Fort and chat Julie Farkas up. The Followers tend to be in the know about these things. Just don't ask her what to do about it. She'll probably ask you to hug someone or somethin'."

"You're kiddin' me!" Cass practically yelled when I told her. "Back to th' Fort? We were just fuckin' there!"

"Backtracking, thy name is Fisher," Veronica just smiled and laughed at me.