New Vegas: Sheason's Story - Chapter 128: Echoes

“Hopeville…” Ulysses voice growled out of ED-E’s speaker. “High Road… Ashton… Tiny cracks in the earth. Nothing compared to the road carved ahead. Before you now is the edge of The Divide. Ahead… lies your work. The History you burned in the earth. What you brought to the people here…”

“You know, I’m gettin’ really sick and tired of this,” I sighed, folding my arms across my chest. I scowled, but he couldn’t really see behind the helmet. “You keep hijacking my friend like this and using him to preach at me – you’re as bad as Elijah!” I advanced on the eyebot and jabbed my finger at the speaker. “If you really want to talk to me so fuckin’ bad, then stop hiding behind a speaker! Let my friend go and come out in the open to talk so we can have it out face to face!”

“Hurm.” Ulysses snorted audibly. “Impatient. We will meet, Courier. When you open your eyes. See the truth.”

“Truth? What truth? What are you-” I shook my head. “No. No more. No more riddles, no more hyperbole. Just. Talk. Plain.”

Ulysses was quiet for several seconds.

“You made The Divide,” he finally said. “You are personally responsible for this Hell on Earth.”

I paid him back for that silence with a few seconds of my own. I didn’t know what to say. What do you say to that?

“You… You’re nuts.” I breathed out eventually, shaking my head again. “I mean… look at this place!” I gestured at the chasm walls all around me, knocking away a few stray flakes of ash that had clung to my arm. “How could I possibly be responsible for ANY of it?”

“You delivered a package,” Ulysses growled out. “Had marking that matched those in The Divide. Not all… but enough. Military markings. From some place the Bear had salvaged in the West. Maybe seeing those markings reminded you of Home… made you carry it…” I racked my brain, trying to figure out what he was talking about. I’ve carried a lot of packages, done a lot of jobs. I can’t really be expected to remember them all, but I feel like this was something I should remember…

“I don’t recall a package like that,” I said simply. “You’re gonna have to narrow it down. You said it had markings? What was it?”

“Machinery,” Ulysses growled. “Simple on the outside. Computer parts. Inside… more complicated. Was the only time I’d heard a machine speak in The Divide. The only machine with a voice…” That definitely sounds like something I would remember.

“This package, I don’t… I don’t recall it.” I said. Ulysses growled again.

“It was from the West. Deep in NCR. Whether made by them or not… it came here. Through your hands. A device. Detonator. One I’d never seen before – or heard before. You carried that thing to The Divide. I know… because I followed you as you walked the road. Watched you do it. You brought it here, to the community you built. And you are responsible for what happened after.”

“… What do you mean, what happened after?” I asked, looking around hesitantly. That sinking feeling happened to my stomach again.

“The device opened. Started to speak.” Ulysses said. “When it did… The Divide answered back. The missiles you’ve seen, buried in their silos. They exploded beneath the ground. Cracked the landscape. Sand… ash… the dead… The Divide skies became a graveyard.” I stood there, still as a statue as I listened, trying to comprehend. It just… it didn’t make sense.

“Well…” I gulped, but tried to keep it quiet. “Then tell me this. If you saw this happen… how’d you survive?”

“Should’ve died there,” Ulysses said, mirroring my thoughts from earlier after surviving the nuke. “But the machines here… they saved me. Your package, and the message inside, awoke medical machines… close to the one that shadows you. They began to build themselves, and then others.” He snorted out a chuckle. “Maybe they saw the flag on my back. Thought I was of America… If so, then History saved me. A sign.”

“So this is revenge for nearly killing you, then.” I latched on to the one thing I thought made sense. But Ulysses let out a grim chuckle.

“Revenge? No. Not the name I’d give it. Not the name the dead would give it. Soldiers of the Bear died here. Legion, too. My brothers, once. Still dying. Both of them. All around us. None of the people that lived here survived… yet all of the West and the East, they hold on as The Divide tears them apart.” Ulysses snorted out another laugh. “Revenge isn’t the message I have for you. It’s… more than that… Courier.”

“I… I don’t understand.” If it wasn’t revenge, then what was he after? Assuming, that is, he was telling the truth…

“You will,” Ulysses said simply. “I’ll show the Mojave, the Bear, and the Bull the way of things. How Couriers like us can break nations. What happened here can happen again. You’ve already proved it… what you did in Ashton.”

My blood went ice cold.

“Whoa, no, no, no! I didn’t… there was no way I could know the missile would launch! I was just trying to open a fuckin’ door!”

“Ignorance of the consequences does not excuse the action,” Ulysses growled. “Like carrying the Chip to Vegas. Old World death in your hands. Pieces of the Old World like that just need someone… careless enough to take them where they need to go. So they can do their killing…”

“No, you’re… you can’t possibly blame me for Ashton! Hell, that – that door was wired into the console, and I bet you were the one to wire it up like that! I was just trying to open a fuckin’ DOOR, if anyone’s to blame for that… for that nuke going off, it’s you!” I started really shouting now. My voice even cracked a little. I needed to get calm. Quiet down. The louder I was, the more chances there were of being found. But Ulysses… it was like he wasn’t even listening. He had something to say, and he was damn sure gonna say it.

“What do you think you are, Courier? All those roads you walked. Those packages you carried. Think it wasn’t your choice?” Ulysses asked. “Of course it was your choice. You chose to come. Couldn’t let it be. It’s not in you to let go…” My jaw tightened at his choice of inflection. I wonder… how much did he know about the other places I’ve been? “Came for no other reason than you were curious. Restless. Always have been. Had to know the why of it… and now? I’ll show you.”

“The why of it?” I asked, waving my arms. “No, you’re the one who needs to answer that! I don’t even get why you’re doing this! If it’s not about revenge, then why do you care?” Ulysses grunted again.

“The community that was once here – and the package you brought – both had markings of… of America. You’ve seen the marks. The symbol. The Divide, the buildings, the people… all of them were built around those same markings, and it surrounded them here… markings like the flag on my back. When I followed your road to The Divide those years ago, I saw the symbol I wore all around me. An Old World symbol. Strong, to survive here. Its people, just as strong. Could’ve outlasted the Bear. Could’ve outlasted the Bull. A… promise. Promise of something better…”

A memory flashed in my brain from a few weeks back: after I helped Chief Hanlon get out of the corner he’d painted himself in and leave town. My own words coming back at me:

“Sheason Fisher is just a fuck-up. But maybe… maybe as a symbol… The Courier can do something better. The Courier can do better.”

“Cæsar was right to want it dead.” Ulysses continued. “NCR was right to want to rake their claws in it. Seeing it… changed me. Just as seeing Hoover Dam changed Cæsar and the NRC. Seeing it… end. It changed me, too.”

“You believed in this place,” I said, trying to somehow get it to make sense in my head. “What it used to be.”

“There was hope here. Another chance…” Ulysses sounded strange, but it was hard to tell behind all the growling. Bitter, maybe? “A new nation, stirring to life. A place I could have set my flag. Not the America of old. But something larger than the tribes of the East or the houses of the West. Something better. The Divide… could have bridged both, like Hoover Dam. Now, like the Dam, it’s too covered in blood to see what it could have been. You gave life to this place. I followed your road here, saw The Divide. You led me here, so that I could see. And then, you brought it to an end.”

“So, this is revenge, then,” I said, going back to what I thought made sense. “Revenge for destroying The Divide?”

“I told you already,” Ulysses growled. “My History isn’t revenge, or hate. The road that brought us both here isn’t about that. It’s about the message you carried. The one in that package, whether you knew it or not: the message that one can kill a nation. One can kill a symbol, and all those that gather beneath its flag.” Ulysses snorted. “I don’t blame you for The Divide. I blame you for what you made me see. Now, you will see what you brought to the Mojave, and that will be my message to you.”

“This…” I clutched at the side of my helmet. “This is insane, you are whacked, man.”

“The nations of the Mojave are as cracked and broken as The Divide. Its people, the same. I have walked at Cæsar’s command, across the East and into the West. Far enough to know that Cæsar’s word did not drive me. Far enough… to see The End. You’ve seen it. No Courier, whatever their flag, can ignore it. Why you didn’t stay in the West. Why you wandered. There is no future in either the Bear or Bull. The Bear is diseased, barely clings to life. And the Bull…” He paused, growling again. “When the Legion reaches the sea, it will turn on itself and die. Killing one will end both. And you made me see how someone could do it. Your ignorance, carelessness… can be used with purpose.”

Realization dawned on me like I’d been hit with a truck full of ice water. No… no, he couldn’t… He couldn’t possibly…

“Then… you learned the wrong message,” I said, as levelly as I could manage. I had to be wrong. I just had to be wrong. There’s no way he could…

“Really.” Ulysses snorted again. “Who is to say the truth of it? You? No. No, you walked from this. Turned your back on it. Now you and others will answer for it. I’ll start with the West. Let that burn. Then… if the East falters after, I’ll bring The Divide there as well. Burn away the flags. Begin again.”

Oh fuck. He was serious. I had to find him. I had to find him now and put and end to this.

“You wanted me to come to The Divide, I’m here. Now-”

“No,” Ulysses cut me off. “Your road’s not done. Haven’t walked it full yet. Not nearly enough. The way ahead and below.”

“Enough.” I said, trying to disguise my apprehension. “Is that where I’m going to find you?”

“At the end of The Divide, through the trenches and wreckage – that’s where you’ll find me. My new home, here, amongst dead men. You and that machine. Keep your eyes on the tower that cuts the horizon. I’m sure you’ll find your way. Made it this far. Not much further to go until you reach the heart of The Divide. And there… you and I, we’ll have an ending to things”

At the far end of the canyon, easily visible from the edge of the slightly off-kilter roof, was a strangely out-of-place structure. Partly out-of-place because of how intact it was compared to everything else, but mostly because how large it was. It stuck out of the side of the canyon, almost like the rock had been formed around it, and the tower stretched from the base of the canyon all the way to the top. Since it was a vaguely hexagonal concrete pillar sticking out of the ground, I was immediately reminded of the Hexcrete Archipelago in the Big Empty. Several rows of red lights faded in and out of visibility, running along the entire length of the tower. It was a missile silo, larger than any others I’d seen here in The Divide.

That had to be the temple Ulysses spoke of – the “heart” of The Divide. There was no denying his intentions now, no matter how much I wanted to.

“How’re you holding up?” I turned to ED-E, asking with a ragged voice. He was bobbing along in the air next to me as I stood on the roof, surrounded by falling ash.

“Better than before, Friend_Courier,” ED-E stated firmly. “Fewer and fewer of my protocols are being overwritten. I believe Enemy_Courier is becoming sloppy in his attempts to control me.”

“Well, that’s not much… but it’s something.” I looked around, trying to find an exit off the roof. “I know what he’s planning. We have to stop him.”

“What’s he going to do?” Sue asked in a hushed whisper.

“Ulysses is going to launch the rest of the missiles in The Divide.” Sue gasped, and even ED-E backed away slightly. “I don’t know how many nukes are left, but… but…” I looked up at the mushroom cloud blocking out the sky above me. The ash was still continuing to fall, and didn’t look like it was going to let up any time soon.

“Even one launch will be one too many.” ED-E finished my thought. I nodded, leaning against the edge of the roof.

“Right. That means we’re on the clock if we-” I shut myself up before I could finish. Three pairs of flares erupted from the canyon floor, each leaving a trail of red smoke as they burned brightly off in the distance. I grabbed the G36 and brought it to bear, looking over the edge of the roof so I could try and figure out who fired them. The bottom of the canyon was way too dark to make out any real detail, but I did see several indistinct muzzle flashes, and heard the unmistakable pops and bangs of firearms in the distance.

“Marked men…” I grumbled, keeping my rifle at the ready. A bit pointless; I was so high, I couldn’t see them, and they probably couldn’t see me. “Tunnelers too, probably, keeping each other busy. For now. We gotta move.”

Eventually, I found my way off the roof: there were a series of scaffolds and fire escapes all along the side of the building, leading down to another structure that had collapsed into the side. And as I made my way down, I thought.

I had to figure out some way to stop him, but I couldn’t really do that unless I figured out why he was doing this in the first place. He’d ‘explained,’ but I still didn’t understand. There had to be some reason for wanting to launch the missiles. A real reason. Not just… to prove a point. He had to have some kind of goal, something reasonable, something logical, something I could understand. Something real. I just… I couldn’t imagine how anyone who’d seen these weapons in action – and I knew he had, because he was here in The Divide – would ever be willing to use them on purpose. Even the nuttiest, craziest, most batshit sideways lunatic this side of Bedlam should’ve been terrified beyond imagining at the thought of unleashing the power of the Atom.

I need it to make sense but it doesn’t make sense why doesn’t it make sense please someone make it make sense

“Sheason,” Sue squeaked, breaking my train of thought. “If you’re so worried about figuring out Ulysses’ motives, maybe you should listen to his audio logs?”

I paused on the side of the scaffold. Had I been thinking all this out loud?

“Yes, Friend_Courier,” ED-E chimed in as he floated to my right. “You are speaking out loud.”

Well, I feel kind of stupid.

“If I may ask, Friend_Courier,” ED-E floated next to me. “Why do you need to understand? Enemy_Courier is clearly insane. If he is willing to launch the missiles, then a bullet to the back of his skull should prove sufficient to end things. Would it not?”

“It’s probably going to come to that, yeah,” I muttered. “But he’s not stupid… and I’m… I just have this nasty feeling in my gut that, whatever he’s got planned, just killing him before stopping it is only going to make things worse. I need to understand, so I can stop whatever he’s already set in motion before he murders thousands of innocent people…”

“And then we kill him?” ED-E asked. I nodded.

“Well, yeah. That goes without saying.” I shook my head, trying to clear it, and then moved on. I had to keep moving – I’d spent far too long talking with Ulysses on the roof, so I had to make up time. Plus, I needed to find more supplies. So, if I was going to listen, I couldn’t risk staying put.

I took one look over the edge of the catwalk, down at the canyon floor; the Marked Men were still busy fighting, but I couldn’t tell who. Didn’t really matter, as long as they were occupied, I guess. I ducked into a nearby window, took cover among some rubble, and pulled out the holotapes. I downloaded them both to my Pip Boy, checked the connections sending sound to my ear, and hit play on the one marked “Y-17.16”

“Big Empty…” Ulysses’ voice echoed in my head as I searched around for any useful supplies. “There’s something hidden there. A crater. Past wind and sand – so deep in the desert, there’s no turning back. Finding the crater was an accident. Was following the weather patterns – The Divide sky torn like that… man’s violence. Not nature.”

I crossed onto another scaffold, looking up at the howling winds, the falling ash, and mushroom cloud blacking out the sky. He was certainly right about that, if nothing else… I hopped off the scaffold and into another building.

“That violence in the sky had a source,” Ulysses voice continued in my ear. “Tracked it. Like following a river current. Left the colors to make my way, like always, in case someone finds them. Learns the pattern.” He paused, as if considering that for a moment. “The Courier might. When I thought sand and wind would never end… came to the crater. And there… there was an Old World facility. A weather station at the edge, still raking the sky with electricity and generators. And beyond it… saw the rest of the Old World hell there, all carved up. Like garden plots. Had to see what was there. Couldn’t leave it be. Not in my nature… like The Courier.”

I paused in my search. That… was a surprise. I thought he held “my nature” in contempt. Was he…

“Things sleep in the Big Empty,” Ulysses said. “The Brotherhood woke them up. Can’t move quiet, any more than the two-headed Bear can. And when they woke up, it was like all of history waking up at once. Almost didn’t make it out.” He paused. “Almost. Left with answers I never intended…”

There was a click in my ear, and the recording ended.

I was eventually going to have to make my way down to canyon floor. I couldn’t see any other way to get to that missile silo and the other end of the crevasse, but for now, I was able to stay far above the ground and out of sight. There were enough collapsed buildings wedged into the side of the canyon here that finding a path between them was almost trivial.

“ED-E, keep an eye out,” I said as I made my way through another building. “If you see any flares, let me know.”

“Will do, Friend_Courier,” ED-E bobbed in the air. I tapped a few functions on my Pip Boy and started ‘.22’ holotape.

“I walked the Great Salt Lake as Cæsar’s eye, then his hand.” Ulysses growled. “Mongrels there. Two legs and fours. Saw the wall of New Canaan that the scavengers circled… but hadn’t the strength or fire to take. Too high, too strong.” He snorted against the mic, distorting the sound momentarily. “White Legs… they were born for war. They run to it, hungry for battle… yet their hunger is to be a part of history, something larger. Like the Legion. As always, brought them a message from Cæsar. If New Canaan burns, Cæsar might see them…” He grunted in genuine disgust. There was no mistaking that for anything else. “Might… even the chance was a lie. To honor Cæsar – destroy the history of New Canaan, and the way they carry it. Cæsar respects such strength, I told them. That… that was truth. Even if ‘strength’ isn’t the right word. Obedience. You must be willing to kill anyone. Children. Mothers. Elders. The weak… if these New Canaanites value the generations, that is what you must kill.”

I clenched my jaw at his words. As if I didn’t have enough reasons to despise the Legion already, this was just adding more fuel to that fire. And still, Ulysses kept talking.

“It was like Vulpes was speaking through me. Use the night, silence, and fire to change their words to pleas… to screams. No need for bombs when hate will do. I…” Ulysses paused, and I thought I heard a slight falter in his voice. “I asked the White Legs to destroy a people with ancestry, going back thousands of years…” He sighed heavily. “Another death of history, lost to time…” He cleared his throat, and continued. “The New Canaanites… their civilizations was… like a hand from the past. Not history. But… maybe a past deeper, farther than that, to a place where this… God of theirs really does exist. If so, then his handiwork and people belong elsewhere. Not in this place. Another symbol, like Bear and Bull, with no meaning in the present…”

So far, my scavenging up here had been surprisingly successful. I’d found ammo here and there, and had even found a few grenades: a frag grenade and a pair of flashbangs. I’d definitely be able to find a use for the latter, to go along with the flare gun I’d found stashed in an open suitcase.

There wasn’t much in the way of resistance, as most of the action was going on below me in the base of the canyon. If the flashes were any indication, the fighting was moving back and forth in waves, but I still couldn’t tell if it was the Marked Men fighting tunnelers (or, hell, even deathclaws), or if it was some kind of infighting.

“Friend_Courier,” ED-E chimed in, zooming up to me from around the next bend. “I think I may have found another supply cache belonging to Enemy_Courier.”

“Lead the way,” I said, struggling to keep my balance; I was making my way across a scaffold, but there were huge gaps beneath my feet everywhere I tried to plant my feet. One wrong step and I’d be falling for weeks. I eventually made my way across without incident, and followed ED-E into the building… but was thoroughly surprised by the reception waiting for me.

DISSENTER BE DAMNED

The words appeared on the far wall of the room, written in dried blood that had turned brown. Two dozen railroad spikes were shoved through the corpse of a Marked Man below the words, pinning him to the wall. Even leaving aside the lack of skin, his body had been badly mangled: one of his arms had been torn away, and his legs below the knees were broken and torn, hanging on to the rest of the body by the thinnest of tendons.

“Oh my…” Sue squeaked.

“Uh… ED-E?” I asked, gulping to try and force back the bile in the back of my throat. “Are you sure this is one of Ulysses’ supply spots?”

“To your left, Friend_Courier,” ED-E said, clearly unaffected by the corpse on the wall. I turned, and sure enough, there was a blue flag marker, painted above a wall safe. I was just about ready to try and crack it when I looked closer and realize that it was already open slightly. I snorted out a laugh… and then used one finger to cautiously slide the door open, making sure I was nowhere in view of the inside. For all I knew, it was left open as a booby trap. It’s what I would’ve done, at least.

There was no trap, but the safe was still full. Most of it was of no consequence: a few documents, a half-burned book, a few caps, that sort of thing. But two things drew my attention: a pair of road flares (the kind of red sticks that you could light by smacking the end on a hard surface), and another holotape.

“ED-E, keep watch,” I said, plugging the holotape into my Pip Boy. “I’m gonna look around, see what else is here that I can use.” ED-E bobbed over my shoulder to get a better look.

“Another audio log made by Enemy_Courier?” ED-E asked. I nodded. “Understood. I will inform you if any hostiles approach this position.” He hovered his way out the window with a barely audible buzz, and disappeared in a crackle of electricity. I held back a laugh: he may have been invisible, but there was enough falling ash in the sky that it was obvious something was hovering there, displacing it. I turned back to my Pip Boy and hit play.

“The White Legs meant to show respect,” Ulysses began. “Bribe me for Cæsar’s favor. Echoing mannerisms and words. I showed them tech caches, taught them the workings of chamber and powder. Spoke of Cæsar’s pride in those that used such things…” He snorted out a laugh. “Nothing but lies…” I laughed to myself as well. I remembered my unpleasant meeting with Caesar, and even though I’d been half dead with radiation poisoning at the time, I still clearly remember the words he said about that particular topic:

“House’s machines, and all the technology of the Old World… what do they propose? The possibility of victory without sacrifice. No blood spilled, just… rivets. That’s not an idea I want put in circulation.”

In a way, I almost felt sorry for the White Legs. I mean… yeah, they were clearly raiders, and brutal even before Ulysses sank his claws in them, if these logs were to be believed. But they were being used by Legion, and would probably be discarded the moment they stopped being useful… if they hadn’t already.

“And… and then…” Ulysses continued after a long pause, and his voice was suddenly unsteady. “They tried to honor me. Not the Legion. They brought me before the campfire one night, showed me how they… changed themselves. How they wore their hair now…”

“Hair?” I asked aloud to myself “What does hair have to…” I trailed off, letting the recording continue.

“It was like my entire dead tribe in the firelight. Teeth grinning red in the dark – eager corpses, blood-covered ghosts. They… had taken my braids. The way of the Twisted Hairs. As if it showed they were… like me… of me… while every knot in their braids spoke of raping, violence – and ignorance of what the knots meant!” He was getting very emotional, but cleared his throat, and attempted to compose himself. “They thought to show respect, but they defiled it. I… I lost myself in trying to read the braids they wove, when I remembered they had put no meaning in it. They had no history of what it meant. They didn’t even know the insult in the twists, knots… and Dry Wells came rushing back, the White Legs circled like that… It was like looking at the dead of my tribe, reborn as ghosts. Hateful. Hungry. Bowing to Cæsar.” Ulysses gave a defeated sigh.

“Another history… gone,” he finally said quietly. “Carried by me alone…”

“Ah, damn it…” I’d finally reached the end of the elevated path through the buildings. The only way left was down, and from where I was standing I could practically jump down to the floor of the canyon. I could still hear some fighting off in the distance, but it was less pronounced now. Whatever was going on, it sounded like the worst of it was over. For the moment, at least.

So, I took the only path available, and tried to move forward. It was a lot more difficult than trying to navigate the buildings above. It was so cluttered with rocks, debris, broken buildings, and who knows what else, that it was like I was trying to hike through a junkyard. It didn’t help that the ash had piled up considerably at the bottom, gripping at my boots whenever I tried to move forward.

“Friend_Courier!” I heard ED-E’s voice in my helmet. “Contact front!” There was a crackle of electricity, and ED-E vanished. I followed suit, pressing the button in my belt. I crept forward, rifle in my hands, waiting for the inevitable.

I rounded a pile of rubble, and was presented with a squat building sticking out of the ground. A corner of it was collapsed, and inside I could hear the sounds of gunfire. A few of the windows flashed sporadically. I skirted around it, trying to avoid attracting attention, when the fighting suddenly spilled out of the hole in the wall.

Half a dozen Marked Men emerged, a few of them in the back of the column popping off shots from their rifles as they ran. Several more Marked Men followed shortly after, and one of them let loose a torrent of rockets from another of those Red Glare rocket launchers. I don’t think either group saw me. At least this explained the sounds from earlier: it was some kind of internal conflict among the Marked Men. I guess they weren’t as unified as Ulysses believed.

“C’mon,” I whispered. “Let’s get out of here. I don’t think they’re interested in us.”

“Roger that,” ED-E replied back, the sound echoing in my helmet. The cluster of Marked Men trying to kill each other moved farther and farther away from me, the sounds becoming more indistinct with each step.

“ED-E,” I said, continuing to move forward. “Can you tell if there are any -” I didn’t get a chance to finish, because that was the moment I took a wrong step, and the ground gave way beneath my feet. I cried out involuntarily and tumbled backward, falling into a pit that I hadn’t seen.

“Sheason!” Sue squeaked as we tumbled.

“Friend_Courier!” ED-E sounded off from the speaker in my helmet. “What happened? Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” I grunted, pulling myself up. “I’m fine…” I looked around, and realized that I was in another building. It had been completely buried, and it was on its side, but this wasn’t a natural cavern, or anything carved out by tunnelers. I caught a glint of something metal off in the distance, and decided to investigate, rather than immediately make my way back to the surface.

“Are you sure?” ED-E asked, sounding a bit worried. I nodded, even though I wasn’t sure he could still see me.

“Yeah, just… gimme a minute.” I found the source of the metal glint: a filing cabinet, surrounded by rubble, and sitting next to a bedroll. It wasn’t until I saw the blue flag marker on the wall that I made the connection: this must have been one of Ulysses’ hideouts.

I shook my head. He was more nuts than I thought. This place was underground, for fuck sake! Either way, I started rummaging around. If I was right, I’d find another one of his audio logs around here some… there we go. First place I looked – the filing cabinet – and there it was, practically wrapped up and tied in a bow. The pieces of this puzzle were starting to make a little sense, but I still felt like I was missing something important. With any luck, this would be the last one I’d need.

I plugged it in my Pip Boy and hit play as I looked around to see if there was anything else I could scrounge that might be useful.

“Have you ever wanted to speak to history, just to know the why of it?” Ulysses asked in my ear, making me pause. The why of it? “I don’t. Not any longer.” He coughed, clearing his throat. “There’s old stories about Gods and Men, past history, into myth. Where the Gods, they’re like… like children. Petulant, and cruel. Those were the voices of the Big Empty. The Past. Couldn’t leave well enough alone. Had to ask. Had to ask the why of it. Their answers were… madness.”

I was suddenly struck by an overwhelming sense of déjà vu.

“They wielded power, stronger than me. Would take a hundred Elijah’s… someone tougher than him or I to best them in their dome.” That small, unintentional compliment was enough to snap me out of it. I went back to searching for supplies while I listened. “They didn’t know why they were there, what had led to that point. Their names – like serpents devouring themselves, cannibalizing their own thoughts…”

He must have figured out the recursion loop on his own, without talking with Mobius. Then again, Mobius didn’t exactly have the firmest grip on his own memory, so who knows if Ulysses and Mobius had spoken or not. While I thought to myself, listening to him speak, I gripped the jagged, uneven walls leading back up to the surface, and started to climb.

“When all seemed lost, thought it was the end… my anger gave me strength to ask them my last question…” He continued. “Who are you, that do not know your history?” I almost lost my grip. Hadn’t he asked me that same question when I arrived? “And… they awoke. For a short time. The flag you wear, they said. We remember. America. It wasn’t just a flag to them. It was a place. An idea they had cared for, once. They told me what it was like to grow in that world… all they had done to lift it up… protect it…” Ulysses paused for a long time, and I finally managed to pull myself back up to the surface.

“They… didn’t know it was gone,” He said finally. “And… yet, they had cared. Once. Before forgetting their history. As they were talking… kept seeing the Courier’s shadow behind them. Giving each of their words weight. History cast aside… a home, left behind. I listened.” So did I. “I asked. Was there anything left? Anything that still carries America’s voice? And they told me I had already been there. I… and one other. Walking right out of history, deeper than we knew. They told me what lies in the Heart of The Divide. What can be found there. The words to awaken it… and the one to speak them.”

The recording ended with a click. I shook my head, and picked up the pace. It was worse than I thought. His obsession with ‘History,’ trying to find meaning in everything I did, and his utter disdain for those who took symbols without understand the history behind them… This really was just about proving a point! He wasn’t looking for anything logical or rational. He was going to make the world burn, just to prove a point!

I clenched my jaw, and steeled myself. There was one piece of good news in all this, however: if I was right, then he was going to wait for me. He wouldn’t even try to launch the missiles until I met him face to face. He was making it about me, and I could use that to my advantage to stop him…

I just hope I’m right.