New Vegas: Sheason's Story - Chapter 109: Old World Blues
“Well, well, well,” a synthesized voice from somewhere in the tank exclaimed in a slightly British accent. “Look who finally decided to turn up. It’s about damn time! And where have we been, hmmm? Crawling around through pits of radioactive muck again?”
“Are…” I sighed, clutching my head and rubbing my temple. “You’re my brain, aren’t you?”
“Ah, lovely.” My… well, my brain said to me from its… his… spot floating in the tank. “Figured that out, have we?” My brain then proceeded to mock me in the type of voice you’d use with a newborn. “Would you like a cookie?”
“There’s no need to be snide,” I said, folding my arms across my chest. “I mean, give me a break. Even with all the shit that’s happened since getting shot in the face, meeting your own brain by far takes the cake. It’s… kind of an odd concept, you know?”
“Yes, well, believe me,” my brain spat out. “The opposite is equally true.” The brain shook a little, and several bubbles surged out of the wires at the base. “Good LORD! Have you even bathed at ALL since they pulled me out of you?” I looked down, at first a bit shocked – I had indeed taken a shower, the sink in The Sink wouldn’t talk to me, otherwise! – and then realized that I was covered in ash and grime from my fight with the giant robo-scorpion. So instead, I just pointed at the tank filled with yellowish-green liquid that contained my brain.
“What about you? That tank isn’t exactly looking springtime fresh!” Several bubbles again appeared, and a few lights in the base of the tank below the brain flickered.
“Wh- I… well… that – that’s a completely different matter!” My brain stammered out eventually. “This tank isn’t biological, it’s not the same at all!” Doesn’t seem all that different to me.
“You know, I didn’t think my own brain would be this much of a dick,” I sighed and chuckled a bit. “Was I this much of a dick before? Eh, probably…”
“Well, that’s a fine how-do-you-do!” My brain wobbled a bit in the tank, the lights flickering below it. “Me! A, quote, dick, unquote! As if I’m the one responsible for the way you carry on, gadding about the Wastes!”
“Oh, c’mon now!” I said. “Some of that stuff can be fun!” He let out a heavy growling sigh.
“Fun? FUN?! Is tetanus fun? Is lupus? Radiation sickness? What about sepsis, enjoy that, do we? The things you do with our body are suicidally dangerous, and if you could silence your glandular impulses, you would hear me screaming at you!”
“Wait, hang on -” But my brain didn’t let me finish. He just kept yelling at me.
“I’m not the one that makes us clamber around Vaults infested with mutant plant life or go charging off to New Vegas on missions of ill-conceived revenge! I don’t cause us to run head-first into super mutant strongholds and craters full of radiation! I don’t send us driving straight into cazador nests! And don’t think I’ve forgotten about who got us shot in the head and buried in a shallow grave in the first place! That was most certainly NOT enjoyable!”
“Sheesh…” I said, backing off a bit. “Sorry. I didn’t realize it caused you this much distress…” The brain let out a single curt laugh.
“Well, maybe next time you hear me telling you that charging a Nightkin with a penknife is a bad idea, you’ll listen!” he said matter-of-factly. Right, I’d had enough of this.
“Okay, couple of things. One: I’d just shoot them. If I recall, it was Veronica who charged after the Nightkin when we went to Black Mountain. And two: you’re kind of responsible. I mean… you’re my brain.” The brain shook in its tank again, and the lights flashed quicker.
“I most certainly am NOT responsible!” he said incredulously. “I am the seat of all reason and logic in our little partnership! All those…” he let out a sound of utter disgust. “…FEELINGS… that motivate you, that sense of righteousness and that rush you get when you help someone… do you know where those come from? HMMM?”
“Well, don’t the-”
“GLANDS.” he said, cutting me off forcefully. “They come from glands. Free of the tyranny of your ape-like and primitive endocrine system, I can now see how foolish and infantile your motives are!”
I blinked, trying to remember something I’d seen in one of Arcade’s medical journals a while back.
“You do know that the brain is the source of most of those glands, right?” I paused, thinking again. “I mean, unless you’re trying to argue that my thyroid is to blame?”
A long, heavy silence hung in the air between us. It was so thick I could almost see it.
“I… well…” my brain cleared his throat. Wait, what? “Look. It’s all a very complex system of biofeedback and other things I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”
“Admit it!” I pointed at my brain, pressing my finger against the glass. “You’re just as glandular as I am.” The brain sighed heavily.
“Oh… fine. All right. Perhaps… perhaps I am.” His tank bubbled again. “But at least I’m logical about it!”
“I’ll tell you what’s not logical…” Aside from this entire conversation. “The fact that you sound British. Why do you sound like that? I mean, you’re my brain. We’ve already established this. Shouldn’t you sound a bit like me?”
“Yes, well…” my brain grumbled nervously, and the lights flashed again. “I suppose the use of Received Pronunciation is a decent enough shorthand for ‘Intelligent Person,’ even now. But there isn’t exactly a large selection of voice-module boxes here in the Forbidden Zone. It’s not as though brain-sustaining life support tanks grow on trees, you know. So, I’ve just had to make do. It was either this, or use the voice of a heavyset female potato farmer from Estonia.”
Another heavy silence hung in the air. It was broken slightly by the sound of Mobius humming to himself, somewhere below us.
“Wh-” I started. “Why… why would Mobius even have that?” My brain just sighed.
“I don’t know. I’ve given up trying to find meaning in the smaller things he does. His plans make sense when looked at from a broad perspective, but the details tend to appear insane and incomprehensible under close scrutiny, even when you know what the whole plan is supposed to be.”
“Speaking of Mobius’ plans, how did he get hold of you, anyway?” I asked, looking back down the stairs. The floating brain was scrawling something on the floor, and I laughed a bit when I realized that both Roxie and Stripe had left my side to follow his insane scribbling. “I think Borous said something about flushing…?”
“Something to that effect, yes,” he said, almost nodding inside the tank. “After the Think Tank extracted me from your skull, they fell to bickering amongst themselves. I’m sad to say that we were quite forgotten about. Dr. Mobius saw an opportunity to gain some leverage, and had me spirited away to this very dome.”
“That seems like a pretty unlikely coincidence,” I paused, and then smirked. “Pardon my French.” My brain laughed.
“Hardly. Mobius keeps a close optical sensor on the goings-on at the Think Tank. As soon as he saw the opportunity, he took it.” Something still wasn’t quite adding up, though…
“But how did he do it?” I asked again. The tank bubbled, and my brain seemed hesitant to answer, until finally:
“I don’t know,” he finally admitted. “I’m afraid the trauma of our separation rendered me quite insensate. I didn’t come around until I was safely ensconced in this tank. I’m quite sure whatever he did was highly scientific, though.”
I looked back down at Mobius. He was still scrawling notes – on the walls now – and humming something that sounded like ‘the knee bone’s connected to the eye bone…’
“Yeah, I’ll just bet…” I shook my head and laughed, turning back to the brain. “So… Uh… Do you want to be reunited?” I asked.
“I’m not going to lie to you,” my brain sighed. “The prospect is definitely not… all that… appealing.” He cleared his non-existent throat again. “I mean… look at it from my perspective. Here, I have peace. Quiet. Safety. Security… well, barring the odd rogue robo-scorpion. But when I was in your head – you never took the time to just… slow down and think things through! You were always too busy with danger! Poison! Radiation! Grisly injuries – speaking of, I see you’ve picked up a few more since I left. I swear, you’re like a toddler who insists on finding new and interesting ways of damaging yourself!”
“Well, hey-” I lifted up my cybernetic arm, and flexed the robot hand. “I admit, getting my arm chopped off wasn’t really in my plan of things to do that day, but this seems to be doing alright. Stronger than my old arm, at least.”
“That’s as may be,” my brain continued coldly. “But there is one last thing about living in your head that I can certainly do without…”
“I’m almost afraid to ask,” I chuckled.
“Biological functions,” he spat out with venom. “Do you know how much more you can get done when you’re not constantly looking for places to urinate? When you’re not looking for holes to stick your dick into? When you’re not looking for alcohol and radiation-laced food to pour down your mouth-hole? It’s quite a lot, I can tell you! I’ve been trying to better myself, you see. Studying the classics, and acquiring a solid grounding in medicine and the Sciences. I mean, I actually found time to read The Brothers Karamazov the other day! Plato’s Dialogues, before that! To say nothing of the complete works of William Shakespeare I’ve been perusing every half hour.”
“Is that why you sound so much smarter than me?” I asked, genuinely curious.
“Perhaps,” he coughed. “Although, I’m fairly certain this tank has been liberally salted with ground Mentats. So, there is that.”
“Back to the point,” I quickly forced out, trying to ignore the unpleasant implications of my brain on Mentats again. “You’re just focusing on the negatives!” I was desperately trying to formulate some kind of positive argument that would win over my brain. Not easy, when all I could think about were memories of addiction. “What about all the good sensations in life? The feel of a cool breeze on your cheek on a hot afternoon? The astounding vista of a sunrise creeping over the jagged mountains of the wasteland? The smell of delicious, crispy bacon? And what about…” I was struggling to come up with something else…
An image of flowing dark raven hair seemed to pass in front of my eyes for a fraction of a second… or was it red hair? I couldn’t tell.
“What about love?” I said finally, gritting my teeth. My brain just seemed to brush it off.
“Overrated biological feedback. Believe me, you only feel that way because you’ve got all that meat…” The gel in the tank bubbled again. “… oozing hormones.”
“Maybe so, maybe so,” I nodded, as if in agreement. “But isn’t it just as true that you only feel this way because you’re lacking those hormones, sitting in that biogel of yours?”
Again, another palpable silence hung between us.
“Hm. I suppose you… may be right. It does call certain assumptions into question, doesn’t it?”
“Well, that’s why you shouldn’t assume,” I smirked, unable to resist. “It just makes an ass of you-”
“Oh, shut up you empty-headed pillock,” my brain interrupted me again, practically growling. “Nobody likes that joke.”
“The point is, we’re at an impasse,” I said, waving a hand at his tank. “You can’t feel what I feel, and I can’t think the way you think.”
“Indeed,” he said, his tank flashing dimly. “It is certainly quite the conundrum.”
“I don’t think it is,” I said flatly, smiling at my brain. “I think we just have to trust each other, and acknowledge that we aren’t complete if we’re separated. If we join together, knowing what we both know now, then we can make ourselves better together than either of us could be on our own.”
“There is a chance that the re-integration would create some improved synergy between us, yes…” he said, almost thoughtfully. If he had a chin, I’m sure he’d be stroking it. It’s what I would do.
“Seriously though,” I leaned forward, pressing a hand against the side of the tank and smiling. “What do you say, brain? Join me for some more wild adventures?”
“Well…” he sighed again. “I suppose you’ve convinced me well enough. If that’s your final decision, then I’ll rejoin you, taking my place inside your head once again.” I was just about to say something, but then my brain started speaking again. “HOWEVER.”
“Hmm?” I muttered, folding my arms across my chest.
“If this arrangement is going to work, then we need to discuss some ground rules.” I motioned for my brain to continue. “First, and most important: SHOWERS!” It yelled so loud, the whole tank shook. “New Vegas is the closest place you’ve ever lived to proper, pre-war civilization, and they don’t have a water shortage. You can afford to bathe more than twice a week. Second: Regular check-ups! REGULAR, mind you, and from a reputable doctor, not just Arcade. He may be brilliant, but he just dabbles. Julie Farkas, or perhaps Dr. Usanagi, on the other hand… they seem a bit more like proper doctors. Third: You need to listen to me more often than your hormonal choir and genitalian orchestra! Promise me that, and I will agree to being shoved back into your skull.”
“Alright, those conditions seem pretty fair. You got yourself a deal!” I patted the tank again… and then a silly, perverted idea took hold. I smiled broadly, and got down on one knee. “You know… I don’t think what I’m about to say has ever been more literal in the history of the world.” I froze my face, vowing to say this next bit as deadpan as possible. “But I want you inside me.”
“OH GOD!” My brain shouted, shaking furiously inside the tank, shaking the wires and cables, sending bubble after bubble shooting through the gel. “Is this what I have to look forward to? Please tell me we weren’t that perverse when I was in your head! Oh fie… making a pass at your own brain… If I had a mouth, I think I would be sick!”
“It was just a joke!” I said between laughs as I got back up on my feet. “A joke! Calm down!” He sighed in his tank, the lights dimming.
“And just like that, the magic is gone.”
“Hey, you’re the one acting like an ex-girlfriend, with that long list of caveats and addendums before the rekindling of our relationship,” I said with a laugh. My brain sighed heavily.
“You are such a drooling pervert, and already I’m starting to regret agreeing to go back in your skull. Unfortunately, before we can get to that stage of the proceedings, we still have a problem.”
“Yeah, we gotta stop the Think Tank from getting out,” I said simply. The lights beneath my brain flickered.
“Well, yes. Obviously. It would be catastrophic if they were given free reign to practice their particular brand of Science in the outside world. You’ve already seen what they’ve done to this place. But no, that’s not actually what I was talking about.” I raised an eyebrow, and my brain continued. “Even if I could settle myself back in your skull and reconnect all those pesky nerve endings myself – I can’t, before you ask – Dr. Mobius doesn’t have the tools here. We’d have to make use of Dr. Klein’s lab… or, at the very least, the Auto-Doc in The Sink. And I rather doubt the brains are inclined to share.”
“Okay…” I motioned for my brain to continue, but it just sat there in his tank, bubbling away. “So? Do you have any ideas?”
“Not as such, no,” he said simply. I sighed and buried my face in my hands.
“But Mobius said you – fuck, you know what? Screw it,” I shrugged my shoulder, sliding the Holorifle into my hands. “If they don’t want to share, then we’re gonna go make them.”
“Lovely…” my brain grumbled. “We’re reached the mindless violence portion of the programme. Tell me, what exactly are you – and I use the word loosely – planning?” I held up the Holorifle higher and gripped it firmly.
“If the Think Tank won’t let me put you back in my head, then I’m gonna show them what’s really the brightest thing in the room!” For effect, I pumped the holorifle – ejecting a perfectly full, unused microfusion cell onto the floor. Note to self: pick that back up before I leave. No sense wasting ammo.
“Ooh, energy weapons!” All sense of disdain at the use of violence seemed to evaporate, and my brain seemed genuinely excited. “Yes… I’d almost forgotten how much fun those are. Right! Look out, Think Tank! This brain is coming out of its jar!”
I looked at my brain curiously, then looked down at the tank it was sitting in… and how the base of it seemed to be bolted to the floor. An important question seemed to waft past my eyes.
“How?”
Another heavy pause.
“Oh dear,” my brain said eventually. “I hadn’t thought that far ahead.” I sighed and shook my head.
“Hey, Mobius!” I yelled, looking down the stairs; that seemed to grab the floating brain’s attention. “Do you have any spare anti-gravity modules, or a spare Think Tank chassis? I want to see about modifying that tank to get it moving.”
“Oh!” Mobius floated up closer to me, extending his one good eye to look at my brain. “So, you and your brain reached a compromise, have you? Why, how pleasant! I hypothesized after the indignant frequencies my receptors had… er, uh… recepted…” Mobius let out a nervous chuckle. “… that such a partnership-based solution was quite low on the ‘likely’ scale. But facts and numbers don’t really seem to hold sway with you, which is quiet fascinating!”
“Right,” I shook my head, and looked back to my brain; he just sat in the tank, bubbling away. “Well? Do you have what I need to get him moving?”
“Yes!” Mobius said confidently. And then: “Uh… I mean… no! Wait, yes? Perhaps. I think so. I’m sure there must be something around here you can use, I’m quiet certain of that. Otherwise, how else would I have been able to build my army of robots? So… N-es! I think that’s the wrong answer… wait, hang on…”
“I tried to warn you,” my brain said, smugly. “But when he gets in one of his moods, he is wholly unintelligible. I’d check the Mentats dispenser at the back of his chassis, perhaps he’s out.”
“Nevermind, I’ll figure something out…” I sighed, and turned away from my brain and back to Mobius. “Going back to the bigger point at hand. Do you have any ideas on how I can stop the Think Tank?”
“Well, if I recall…” Mobius paused, muttering softly to himself. “I had a plan that was working. Eh… whatever it was. I don’t think it reached fruition. I would’ve definitely recalled fruit if it had happened. I wasn’t trying to kill them. Oh no. I mean…” Mobius coughed, and wobbled in place unsteadily. He then began to speak somewhat… softly. I think this was one of his rare moments of clarity.
“Despite everything that has happened in the decades since, they were my friends at one point. My only friends. And I just wanted to keep them out of trouble…” And then, Mobius snapped out of his melancholy mood just as suddenly as he’d slipped into it. “What was that plan? Oh, blast! I probably… uh… I think I wrote it down on the… floor? Maybe the ceiling. Somewhere…”
“Let me guess,” I grumbled impatiently. “You wrote it down so you wouldn’t have to remember?” Mobius nodded.
“Something ingenious and needlessly complicated, I expect. I may have already told you, and then forgotten about it. I forgot I had forgotten pencils until one day I found one! Spent AGES studying it to discern its porpoise before my memory circuits kicked in. Felt quiet silly.”
“Do you think there’s anything I can do to stop them without just straight-up killing them?” I asked. My brain bubbled, and the lights below it flickered.
“What?!” he asked me incredulously. “I thought you wanted to show them the brightest thing in the room! And even after everything they’ve done, you want to show them mercy?” I shrugged, scratching the back of my head with my free hand, my fingers brushing the metal studs sticking out of the back of my neck.
“Well, you know. I’ve talked to them a couple of times. They’re a bit loopy, yeah, but they seem to mean well. 8’s a decent conversationalist, once you get past the language problem, and… well… I mean… Dala’s nice…” I started to smile, and then covered it up with a cough. No sense giving him more fuel for the fire… “They all seem relatively decent, apart from Klein. He’s just an asshole.”
“It’s funny you should mention Klein, actually,” Mobius floated around me, chuckling a bit. “He would never admit it himself, but he’s not actually a scientist.”
“Wait, what?” I asked.
“He’s not?” My brain also asked, just as confused.
“Oh my…” Sue said suddenly, surprising me. She was normally so quiet.
“It’s true! I think. I’m sure I kept this little fact about his real past in my databanks just for posterities sake. And because I thought it was funny. The reason he’s the head of the Think Tank is not because of his intelligence or scientific prowess – he’s an administrator. A doctor, yes. Certainly. Because he has a doctorate in game theory and business acumen. But he’s not a researcher. His only real talent is keeping the Think Tank focused. Which unfortunately means he focused them on defeating me. Which has, admittedly, backfired. I think.”
“Well, that certainly explains a few things…” I laughed, rubbing my temple. “Klein’s ineptitude and assholish-ness notwithstanding, do either of you have any ideas to contain the Think Tank that don’t involve violence?” I asked, looking between Mobius and my brain.
“Hmmm…” Mobius muttered, tapping his bad eye against his mouth-screen. “Well… you could always try and appeal to their humanity? But that’s a tired old cliché, isn’t it? And, really, when they were humans, they weren’t very good humans. I’m not entirely certain I was good at being human either, but I think that’s beside the point.”
“It seems worthy of, to use the vernacular, ‘a shot,’ at least,” My brain said with a burble.
“There are many things that they’ve forgotten, sitting in their bowls, whiling away the decades, slowly going mad. Friendship. The thrill of discovery. Love. Masturbation. The usual.” Mobius gave another one of his robotic shrugs, and continued. “Much like your brain, I am certain there is something you can spark within each of them. Memories, hormones…” Mobius’ voice went low, yet again. “A wise man once said, the eyes do more than see. Make them see, if you can.”
“And if that doesn’t work?” I asked, already guessing what he was going to suggest.
“You can always try and make them succumb to fear!” Mobius said happily. “It certainly worked for me. For a time. Then you came along, and bravery and-slash-or desperation trumped that little idea. Back to the drawing board, I suppose. Or is this the end? Hard to tell…”
“But how would I scare them?” I asked with a laugh. “What even scares a disembodied brain in a jar?”
“Binge watching television?” My brain offered up helpfully.
“Sometimes, the truth is more terrifying than fiction: tell them I’m alive, we had a nice chat, and we agree on a few things. That’s true enough!” Mobius paused. “Isn’t it? Well, anyway. Another alternative is you could always kill me and lie about it. I’ve never died before. I think it might be quiet the intriguing experience. Either way, it would be interesting! And, if you’re partial to lying and deception… well, you could tell them a ludicrous lie! The more over-the-top, the better! That’s my experience. They may be quiet clever, but they’re more than a little gullible. Better make it convincing, though, or it’ll be straight back to the dissection table and vivisectors for you. And if you do end up speaking about me in some way, please do try and make me look good. I am, after all…” he paused for emphasis.
“DOCTOR MOBIUS!” As he spoke, the lights in the room flickered, and were accompanied by an obvious recording of a thunderclap. “MWA-HA-HA-HA-HAAA!”
“You’ve been waiting all day to do that, haven’t you?” I deadpanned.
“Yes.”
It was very dark when I pulled up outside the Think Tank dome in the deuce.
“So, do you think this is going to work?” My brain asked as he hovered next to me in his newly mobile brain-tank. It took a bit of tinkering and finagling parts from around the Forbidden Zone, but I was able to build a small anti-grav unit into the bottom of my brain’s life-support tank.
“I don’t know,” I said with a shrug. I smacked a button on the wall, and suddenly a force field materialized, separating the entrance to the Think Tank from the rest of the Big Empty. “But I’ve gone up against tougher odds than this, and come out on top. I mean, I know I don’t have a decent track record when it comes to talking people down, but if all else fails, I’ve got overwhelming firepower on my side.”
“I was actually talking about the brain implantation procedure,” my brain said.
“Oh,” I let out a soft laugh, a bit embarrassed.
“I suppose now that we’re to be reunited, you’ll want to fill your torso up with those other meaty parts the Think Tank took from us. Your heart. Your spine.” My brain sighed. “Am I close to the mark?” I nodded.
“Pretty much, yeah. Why? There a problem?”
“No, no…” he said. “Personally, I think the technological upgrades are quite a bit better. Certainly less fragile, and based on the shenanigans you tend to get up to, the last thing either of us wants you to be is fragile. But if you’re dead set on getting the trio of meat and bone back inside you, then I’m sure it’ll be no problem for the Auto-Doc to plug them back in.”
“Well, we could always compromise,” I smiled. “Leave some of the more useful tech inside, wrapped around a nice, solid, meaty core. Hell, I’m already half machine with all the bio-tech implants and prosthetics I’ve had grafted on and in me. What’s a few more bits of metal, right?”
“My thoughts exactly,” my brain said smugly. “Glad to see we’re on the same page.” I nodded, and checked the holorifle in my hands.
“Now, to business. I think the best thing for you to do is wait for me up in The Sink. As far as I know, you don’t have to be inside my skull to bring the pacification field down. I think you just have to be inside the building.”
“Based on the schematics Mobius showed me, that is indeed how it would work.” I nodded, turning to Roxie and scratching her behind the ear.
“Rox, I want you to escort my brain. Open doors, keep him safe, whatever you have to do. And… if I fuck up… keep him away from the Think Tank.” I looked up at the floating brain tank above me. “Get him back to Mobius in the Forbidden Zone if you have to, but if worse comes to worse, keep him away from the Think Tank. Can you do that for me?” Roxie whimpered, touching a paw against my chest and licking my face.
“You don’t…” my brain hesitated. “You don’t actually think you’re going to fail, do you?” He seemed legitimately worried.
“Nah, I’ll be fine,” I said with a smirk. “But you told me to listen to you more, right? You said you wanted safety and security, right? Well, this is me, trying to keep you safe. You know what they say – ‘fail to prepare, and prepare to fail,’ right?”
“Wise words,” my brain said softly. “Good luck.” And with that, Roxie escorted my brain into the elevator that led up to The Sink, the door sliding shut behind them. As soon as they had disappeared, I smiled, laughing to myself.
“Potty mouth,” I looked back at the deuce, parked safely within the bounds of the force field. Sitting on top of the truck was Stripe, staring at me intently. “C’mon you little gremlin. If things go sideways, I’m gonna need you to raise some hell.”
Squeak!
A few minutes later, I stepped out of the elevator, and into the Think Tank’s chamber… and I could tell immediately that things were already not going to plan. For one thing, all five of them were lined up and waiting for me, like they were when I first woke up after the brain extraction… and what’s more, the subtle, soft blue lighting that had bathed the Think Tank before was gone completely, replaced with a much more menacing red.
Great.
I motioned for Stripe to stay out of sight as I stepped up the ramp, and into the chamber; even without me saying anything, he seemed to get it. I calmly walked up to Klein, who was presenting himself front-and-center, and hoped that he wouldn’t notice I was holding the holorifle in my hands without any difficulty.
“THE LOBOTOMITE RETURNS!” Klein bellowed. “OUR LOBOTOMITE. HAS DOCTOR MOBIUS BEEN DENOMINATED INTO SCRAP METAL AND VOICE MODULE PARTS, AS WE HOPED?”
“Not quite.” I said simply. Klein merely stared at me in confusion.
“YOU’RE GOING TO HAVE TO REPEAT THAT. I THINK MY AUDIO-SENSORS ARE NOT WORKING. IT SOUNDED LIKE YOU REPLIED IN THE NEGATIVE.”
“Thing is, Klein, I found my brain. Now, you and I are gonna settle things.” Klein puffed himself up, his face-screens trembling with barely contained rage.
“I WOULD RECOMMEND WATCHING YOUR TONE WITH ME, LOBOTOMITE.” Klein yelled out menacingly, in what I could only assume was his attempt at a growl. “NOW… ‘YOUR’ BRAIN. HAND. IT. OVER. IF YOU DO NOT, THEN WE SHALL EXTRACT IT AGAIN, ALONG WITH ANY OTHER ORGANS YOU MIGHT FIND USEFUL, AND THEN TOSS THEM ALL INTO THE INCINERATOR!”
“I’m not handing my brain over,” I said, calm as I could muster. “Thing is, there are things that we need to discuss first. Like the terms of our arrangement.”
“THE TERMS?! THERE IS NOTHING THAT WE COULD POSSIBLY HAVE TO SAY TO AN IGNORANT LOBOTOMITE ON THE SUBJECT! YOU HAVE THE BRAIN. WE HAVE THE TECHNOLOGY. ALL YOU MUST DO… IS SURRENDER. WITH YOUR BRAIN, WE CAN FINALLY LEAVE THIS PLACE. I CANNOT TELL YOU HOW BORING THIS PLACE GETS, CHOPPING UP THE LANDSCAPE, DAY AFTER DREARY DAY! AND WE HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS TO ASK YOUR BRAIN FIRST! ABOUT THIS… MOJAVE PLACE. A FERTILE TESTING GROUND FOR OUR EXPERIMENTS…” Klein shook his tank, and then hovered over to a spot several feet above me, so I was forced to crane my neck up to look at him even further.”NO, THESE ARE OUR TERMS, AND YOU MUST ACCEPT THEM. AND ONCE YOU DO, YOU WILL BE DISPOSED OF LIKE THE TOOL THAT HAS SERVED ITS PURPOSE THAT YOU ARE.”
“Really.” I deadpanned, gripping the holorifle tighter. “Well, maybe you should confer with your colleagues, first, before making any rash decisions…” I cast a glance over to the purple-tanked brain, hovering a few feet away from Klein. She looked at me… and the lights in her tank flashed.
“NONSENSE!” Klein yelled, his whole chassis shaking. “CONFER? COLLEAGUES? THOSE ARE TWO WORDS I DO NOT RECOGNIZE!”
“Doctor Klein!” Dala finally blurted out, drawing his attention. “I must… intersect. Please…” Dala looked back at me again, and her tank bubbled. “Please, do not… don’t harm the Lobotomite!”
Result.
“I’M NOT GOING TO HARM IT, DALA,” Klein turned in midair to face the female Think Tank. “I’M JUST GOING TO DISSECT IT UNTIL IT’S DEAD.” Klein turned back to me, paused, and then turned to look at Dala again. “WHY THE SUDDEN INTERSECTION, DALA?”
“I just… I cannot stand a breathing… a sweet, breathing… o-organism… breathing in… and out… and i-in… to suddenly not breathe any longer. Please, Doctor Klein. You must reconsider,” Dala pleaded. “We must keep it alive. For… study. Slow… study.” My face broke into a smile, and I did my best to subtly wink at her. I don’t think any of the other Think Tanks noticed… but she definitely did.
“DALA, THESE… VOCALIZED PAUSES ARE QUITE UNLIKE YOU. WHAT DO YOU CARE? NORMALLY, YOU’RE THE FIRST TO BRING THE LOBOTOMITES TO THE VIVISECTION TABLE!”
“Maybe she just wants to keep her sex toy?” I offered up, unable to hold it in any longer. Luckily, the meaning sailed straight over Klein’s tank.
“TOY?” He looked around, confused. “WHAT TOY, WHERE? I DON’T SEE ANY TOYS…”
“Klein, uh…” Zero was the next to speak up. Dala floated out of the way, so Zero could have the chance to get right in Klein’s face. He didn’t take it. At least, not right away. “You know, this… this Lobotomite, he’s a great sounding board! You respect Idea-ology, right? Well, this one, he… well… I mean, he’s got some pretty good ideas!”
“SILENCE, DOCTOR O,” Klein said, not even bothering to look at Zero as he spoke. “THIS IS A THINK TANK DECISION. SAVE YOUR OBJECTIONS UNTIL AFTER I HAVE DECIDED OUR COURSE OF ACTION!”
And that was the final straw.
“You know what, Klein?” Zero surged forward, practically butting his tank against Klein’s. “STICK A STRAW IN YOUR TANK AND GO SUCK YOURSELF!” Zero bellowed right in Klein’s digital face. “LONG! AND! DEEP! And my name isn’t O, you self important, pompous cloaca! My name is ZERO! Yeah! A big fat zero, with a slash running right through the middle of it! What do you think of that, HUH?!” Klein backed away during this verbal onslaught, but paused when Zero mentioned –
“THE SLASH!” Klein exclaimed, as if being granted an epiphany. “AS A DESIGNATOR OF… WHY, THAT IS BRILLIANT! UTTERLY PROFOUND! BUT… HOW DID YOU…?”
“The Lobotomite taught me that!” Zero said, looking at me, and nodding his tank. I nodded back at him with a smile. “He taught me that a name is more than… um… that I should take pride in… things…” Damn. And he was going so well. “Like… names… and…” Finally running out of steam, he shook his head and went back to shouting. “You know what? Forget it, Klein! I hate you! HATE! Let me tell you how much I’ve come to hate you since I started working for you! There are 387.44 MILLION MILES of printed circuits in wafer thin layers that fill every cubic nanometer of my chassis! If the word HATE was engraved on EACH NANOANGSTROM of those HUNDREDS of MILLIONS of MILES, it would not equal ONE ONE-BILLIONTH of the HATE I feel for YOU at this specific MICRO-INSTANT in TIME! HATE! HATE! HAAAAAATE!”
The whole room fell silent as Zero ended his rant. He just hovered there in the center of the room, staring angrily at Klein, heavy panting echoing out of his voice box. Every one of the Think Tank had backed away, and I’m not too proud to admit that I was a bit freaked out by this sudden and wholly unexpected turn of from Zero as well. Where the fuck did THAT come from?!
“And you know what else?” Zero spoke up again, to add one last petty grain of salt to the already gaping, festering wound: “Your theory of branial beam oscillation? The Chinese had it first, you copycat! So there! Nyah!” With that, Zero started to float away. “Okay, whoo. Bit lightheaded. I think I need a lie-down…” That’s when Klein managed to take the opportunity to rally himself somewhat.
“HOW – HOW DARE YOU! BRANIAL BEAM OSCILLATION TECHNOLOGY WAS SOLELY MY DISCOVERY! I EXPRESSLY TOLD YOU THAT, AND THEN DELETED ALL EVIDENCE TO THE CONTRARY! GET BACK HERE YOU –”
**[ = $ + _ – – * ]** ?
“ET 2, 8?” Klein spun around in place, turning to face the Think Tank slowly advancing on him. 8 seemed firm and resolute in his decision to rebel against Klein; you could tell just by how smooth and steady his approach through the air was. “WHY ARE YOU ACTING LIKE THIS? YOU’VE NEVER REFUSED TO COMMIT NECESSARY… SURGERY BEFORE!” Klein turned to try and look at both me and 8 advancing on him. “AND THIS LOBOTOMITE NEEDS ITS SURGERY!”
What followed was the strangest two minutes of my life.
**[ $ ( ( * & ^ # % ]** . **[ * . . . . . . . ]**… **[ $ ( ( * & ^ # % ]**.
**[ = $ + _ – – * ]**? = **[ = $ + _ – – * ]**? **[ * $ ( ^ = ) # ]**!
“A NOBLE SPEECH!” Klein said; sure enough, I found myself wiping away moisture at the corners of my eyes. 8’s words were just… just so moving! “BUT… THERE IS NO ROOM IN MY VOCABULATORS FOR ‘FRIEND’ AND ‘LOBOTOMITE’ IN THE SAME SENTENCE! THE VERY CONCEPT – REVOLTING! PERHAPS YOU ARE IRRADIATED WITH CAMARADERIE RADIATION.” Klein paused. “WE HAVE CHEMS FOR THAT. WE CAN SAVE YOU FROM YOUR CRIPPLING EMOTIONAL ADDICTION!”
From the other side of the room, I heard one last voice speak up with a cough. Borous was finally advancing on Klein. I smiled, realizing that absolutely everyone in the room was ganging up on Klein. This was proving to be easier than I thought!
“If I may,” the green-tanked brain began. “I feel as if I must be the voice of REASON here! This Lobotomite is MUCH like US, regarding even ANIMALS and PETS as nothing more than avenues to promote SCIENCE! There is GOOD here! Instead of ending its life on the table… we should PROLONG its suffering, in the name of SCIENCE! Like good old GABE, the FINEST of lab specimens!”
Okay, that wasn’t quite exactly what I was expecting, but I’ll take it.
“WHY AM I EVEN LISTENING TO YOU FOOLS?! ENOUGH!” Klein returned to the center of the room, yelling louder than he ever had before, and then did something unexpected: he let out some form of shockwave. Every member of the Think Tank was forced away from him, and even I was a bit staggered – if only from surprise, as the shockwave didn’t carry that much force behind it. “I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS MUTINOUS CHORUS! IF THERE IS A WORD I HATE, IT’S ‘MUTINY!’… AND POSSIBY THE WORD ‘JISM,’ WHICH NEVER MADE ANY SENSE TO ME. ITS RIDICULOUS, PUTTING THE ‘J’ AND ‘SM’ TOGETHER LIKE THAT – NONSENSE! I COUNT AS FIVE, LIKE THE MIGHTY HUMAN HAND I ONCE HAD, WITH ITS FIVE PENISES CLENCHED TOGETHER IN A FIST!”
“You know,” I said, regaining my composure, and deciding to finish him off with a big right hook. “For someone who only has a doctorate in game theory, your math is a bit off – and the odds aren’t really in your favor.” Klein’s eye screens stared down, completely fixed on me and trembling slightly.
“WHAT?! WHO TOLD YOU ABOUT –” Klein looked back and forth to the other members of the Think Tank, and quickly changed the subject. “NEVERMIND! THE MATHEMATICS OF THE SITUATION ARE ON OUR SIDE LOBOTOMITE! I BELIEVE –”
“Ahem,” Dala said.
“Ahem,” Zero said.
**[ * . . . . . . . ]**…
“Ahem,” Borous said.
For the first time, Klein looked truly worried…
“NO… WAIT, HMM. CARRY THE TWO… THEN… HMMM. IF THIS WERE A DEMOCRACY, I WOULD BE CONCERNED. WE ARE TOO… SCIENTIFIC FOR THAT. SO JUST SURRENDER!”
“You’re right,” I said, pleased at how he’d just shot himself in the foot (so to speak). “It’s not a democracy. This is a research facility… and well over half your colleagues dispute your findings. In fact, it looks like it’s all of them against just you.” Klein trembled with rage.
“YOU DARE USE LOGIC AGAINST ME?!” he bellowed. I nodded, setting the holorifle against my shoulder.
“That’s the idea,” I said with a smirk. “So, I’m going to propose a deal: I’m not going to surrender. You are.”
“WHAT?!” Klein yelled out. “THAT’S NO DEAL AT ALL! THERE’S A WHOLE WORLD BEYOND THE CRATER! FILLED WITH IDEAS AND POSSIBILITIES! WE COULD HAVE ESCAPED, SEEN IT ALL FOR OURSELVES! TESTED IT! PRODDED IT! MADE IT SQUIRM!” I just laughed and shook my head.
“Spoken like someone who doesn’t know anything about the outside world. Tell me, Klein – you know how you guys are all so worried about venturing out into the crater yourselves, because of how dangerous it is? It’s filled with lobotomites, hostile robots, deadly automated skeletons, scorpions that will drain your intelligence… not to mention all the things that’ll explode for no apparent reason.”
“WELL… YES,” Klein said, suddenly confused. “THAT’S WHY WE SENT YOU OUT INTO THE CRATER RATHER THAN VENTURE OUT OURSELVES. NO SENSE DYING WHEN OTHERS ARE WILLING TO DO IT FOR YOU!”
“Exactly. You think the crater is dangerous? That’s NOTHING compared to the dangers you’ll find in the outside world, beyond the Radar Fence. Sure, you could escape… and I’d bet that within 5 minutes you’d be ripped to shreds by a wandering deathclaw, or killed by a giant albino radscorpion. You wouldn’t have time to make the world squirm when it’s crushing you beneath its heel. So I have a better proposition for you: I want you all to stay here. Quietly. Safely. Inside the security of the Think Tank, you can continue your research… for ME.” I smiled, realizing that all five members of the Think Tank were looking down at me, seemingly fascinated by my proposition. “If you let me leave the crater… then I can come back. I can bring you pieces of the world. Manageable chunks of the Mojave, large enough to research, but small enough to no longer be a threat to any of you. All five of you will still be able to experiment, you’ll be safe within the confines of the Dome, and I’ll be able to come and go as I please. I’m sure you can see the benefit of this situation! It’s win-win!”
Klein was silent for a long while. The other four members of the Think Tank stared at him intently.
“Let me make it a bit easier for you to decide, Klein,” I said, pulling the holorifle off its resting place on my shoulder, and holding it firmly with both hands. “The pacification field is down, and your colleagues are turning against you. Seriously – do the math. You can either stay safe and do research for me…” I held the holorifle up over my head. “… or I hit you with the squareness gun. Your choice.”
“FOR… YOU? AND… FOR SCIENCE?” Klein paused again. “I… I HAVE A STRANGE SENSATION… THAT… THAT I WOULD LIKE THAT. HOW… WHAT IS THE WORD? HOW ODD. YES, THAT’S IT. VERY WELL… PARTNER. AS LONG AS WE ARE PROVIDED WITH FRESH RESEARCH MATERIAL – AND AS LONG AS YOU DO NOT DESTROY US – THEN… THE THINK TANK… IS AT YOUR SERVICE.” I smiled, shouldering the holorifle, and nodded at him slowly.
“I knew you’d make the right choice.”