New Vegas: Sheason's Story - Chapter 131: The Temple

I braced myself as the massive silo doors slowly slid open; showers of sparks went flying from the sides as metal ground against metal. I had no idea what was waiting for me inside, but I’ll be damned if it was going to catch me off guard. My fingers gripped the G36 in my hands tightly, and I scanned the interior only to find…

Nothing.

“Hmph,” I grumbled under my breath, stepping over the threshold cautiously. “I thought for sure Ulysses might have set a trap or something…”

“Well, ED-E did say he thought Ulysses was getting sloppy…” sue chimed in as I cautiously made my way deeper into the complex.

“And ED-E isn’t here now, is he?” I grunted out through gritted teeth. My grip on the rifle tightened – enough that several of my knuckles popped. I inhaled deeply through my nose, to try and calm myself down and steady my breathing.

“I – uh… um,” Sue stammered out, a bit flustered. “Okay, okay, maybe he wasn’t expecting you to get here this fast?” At that precise moment, the silo door behind me slid down shut with a thud, flooding the hallway in darkness. I came to a halt and sighed.

“Somehow, I doubt it,” I said after letting the gravity of the situation properly sink in. My view of the hallway became illuminated again a second later, bathed in the familiar neon green of nightvision, and I pressed forward.

My paranoia was kicking in something fierce, even though I could see everything in here perfectly. Every nook, every cranny, every vent and corner… I expected there to be something. A trap. Explosives. Turrets. Robots. I felt like I was waiting for a second shoe that simply refused to drop.

“I don’t like this,” I whispered to Sue as I crept down the metal corridor, G36 still drawn. “We should’ve met some resistance by now…”

At that moment, a blip on my heads up display winked into life and grabbed my attention: movement on the motion tracker. It was just at the edge of senor range, somewhere ahead and to my left, but it was definitely something.

“Finally,” I grunted out softly, pressing the button on my belt. “Tempting fate like that never fails. That suspense was agony.”

There was an open pressure door at the end of the hall. The closer I got, the more several sounds steadily grew in volume: treaded wheels rolling along metal, heavy servos whirring and the beeping of a robot scanning the area it was patrolling. Even before I heard the deep baritone rumble of the synthetic voice, I knew it had to be a sentry bot.

“AREA CLEAR OF HOSTILES. CONTINUING PERIMETER SWEEP.”

I pressed my shoulder against the edge of the door, and shouldered the G36, pulling both the Pulse Gun and Sonic out of my duster. Slowly, steadily, I peered inside, and sure enough, there was a rolling robotic mini tank moving in a slow circle around the tiny room. It almost looked comical, this gigantic tank-like murder bot swiveling around in a room far too small for it to fit.

I watched and waited. It rolled in my direction, facing the door. A pause. The treads ground against the floor as it swiveled in place, and began to roll in the opposite direction, giving me the perfect shot of its back…

I kicked off the ground and rushed into the room, energy pistols aimed and ready. Blue energy blasts and sparks streaked and bounced through the air, accompanied by the belch of methane and the digital barks and snarls of an angry dog. The sentry bot was staggered with each hit, pushed back by inches as it tried to reorient itself to get a clean shot at me.

“ENG-A-A-A-AGI-I-ING HOSTI-I-I-I-I-I-” it stammered, trying to get a lock on my mostly transparent form with one of the gun arms. I tossed aside both pistols and leapt forward, planting my feet on top of the two tripod legs just as a missile screeched out of the end and exploded in the hall behind me. There was a rainbow miasma that swirled around my body and I became visible again at the very instant my cybernetic fist came down to slam into the sentry bot’s center faceplate.

There was a splintering sound of Plexiglas and a very loud CLANNNNG! of bending metal, but the head was still there, and the sentry bot was still trying to move – despite the electricity arcing along all over the surface. I reached around as quickly as I could, grabbing hold of the shoulder, and dug the fingers of my cybernetic hand into the port at the back of its neck. All it took was one good yank, and the metal covering was ripped clean away, revealing a mass of moving parts, flashing lights, and a trio of cameras lit up from within by a glowing yellow light.

A second later, the inside of the sentry bot’s head was reduced to a pile of scrap metal, made complete by the imprint of my fist. It teetered unsteadily before falling backward like a building hit with a wrecking ball. I kicked off it as it fell, landing deftly on my feet about a yard away.

“C’mon, Ulysses…” I grunted, picking up my discarded energy pistols. “You can do better’n that.”

“Uh… Sheason?” Sue spoke up as I holstered the two guns.

“Yeah? What’s u-” I looked up, over to my right, and came to a dead stop. There was a giant plate-glass window set into the wall, behind which I saw two more sentry bots (both of whom were staring at me with weapons raised) along with four turrets. I stood there, frozen by surprise, just waiting for something to happen… but they didn’t move. Even though they had a clear shot at me through the window, they didn’t fire.

“… h-uh.” I slowly and carefully stepped off to the side and watched as the robots and turrets tracked me through the window. “Why are they…”

“Sheason!” Sue squealed desperately. “No, look! Behind them!”

At first, I didn’t know what she meant. Behind them just looked like more tech… but then I looked closer. There were three metal cylinders in the center of the room: eyebot tanks! Both the one on the left and the one on the right were empty, but in the middle –

“ED-E!” I yelled, rushing toward the window. “We’ve gotta get him out of there!” The robots and turrets continued to track my movement, but didn’t fire. Maybe they weren’t programmed to shoot through the glass?

“But how?” Sue asked. “We can’t take them by surprise…” She was certainly right about that. I stepped back, looking around, trying to find… there!

“We don’t need to take them by surprise,” I said, finally getting a bit of confidence back. I stepped up to the terminal mounted on the wall, and started typing away. The encryption was pretty heavy, but I was able to break through with only a few keystrokes. I chuckled, rested a finger directly over the “Enter” key, and looked back at the window; the robots were still staring at me, but refused to fire. “We just need to get them to do the work for us.”

I hit the button, and the room behind the glass erupted in chaos. The laser and machine gun turrets opened fire on the unsuspecting sentry bots, who returned fire in kind. The sound of muffled thumps and booms filtered through the walls. The floor shuddered from the force of explosions. The glass began to crack from a few stray bullets and laser blasts, and the sentry bots made short work of the turrets – but not before being turned into swiss cheese themselves.

At the end of it, only one sentry bot remained, but it was heavily damaged. Oil and hydraulic fluid poured in torrents out of its many holes, one of its arms was completely gone, and two of its three legs were ripped so completely to shreds that it teetered precariously on the twisted metal stumps and the one leg mostly intact. It shuddered and shook with every attempted movement. And then it stopped moving completely after I opened the bulkhead door, stepped inside, fired the Pulse Gun straight at its face, and it collapsed backward in a useless heap of smoking metal.

“C’mon…” I vaulted over one of the broken sentry bots and rushed up to ED-E’s stasis pod. “There’s gotta be a release somewhere…” My hand brushed past a lever on the side, and the sides of the metal cylinder erupted in a cloud of steam. “Yes!” I stepped back, allowing the door to slide open. Blueish-white clouds erupted out of the open door, flooding the room and collecting near the floor; it stung the inside of my nose, and made me slightly dizzy, but I kept myself stable. What was that, freon? ED-E emerged out of the tube, wobbling unsteadily in the air before me.

“ED-E!” I shouted, rushing up to him. “Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

“I…” He seemed slightly dazed. “I am… yes, Friend_Courier. I am…” He paused, staring at me. “You came back for me.”

“Of course I did,” I said, laying a hand on the side of his chassis. “I wasn’t going to leave you behind. You’re my friend, and I always come for my friends. Always.”

“I… I did not know how long I would be trapped…” ED-E was definitely shaken. Time to strengthen his resolve.

“C’mon, buddy,” I said. “Whatever he’s planning, Ulysses wants you out of the picture. I bet you he thinks he’s already won. He knows you can stop him, and that scares him. So let’s disappoint the son of a bitch, yeah?” I started to turn on my heel, but ED-E surprised me with something I didn’t expect:

“Wait!” ED-E exclaimed. I turned back, a curious look on my face. “Friend_Courier, there is something that you need to know.”

“Yeah?”

“Before he… when he… he thought that I was deactivated when I was locked in stasis. He did not do anything to damage me – he did not even attempt – but… he spoke. And I recorded what he said. I do not think he realized this.”

“What he said?” I didn’t understand. ED-E whirred in place, and there was the clicks of a recording begin to playback. At first, all I heard were the sounds of typing, and indistinct shuffling… and then Ulysses spoke.

“I am… sorry,” he grunted out, quite a lot softer than I expected. He sounded almost tired. “I need one last guarantee that The Courier will come… He is… the only one who can…” He sighed heavily and grunted again. “I go now to commit a terrible deed. One day, my soul will bear the burden, and I shall be punished for my actions. And yet, it must be done. There is no other option. Let go. Wipe the slate clean. Begin… again.” The sound of a closing pod door followed his words, and the recording clicked off.

I stood there for several seconds, trying to process this new information.

“I’ve got three options, and they’re all wrong…” I said to myself softly, remembering that conversation I had with Arcade so long ago… and the conversation with Veronica that got me out of that particular problem.

“Friend_Courier?” ED-E asked, floating around me. I shook my head, finally understanding.

“He thinks he has no other choice,” I said, looking up at ED-E with a determined look on my face. “I’ve been there.” I chuckled softly. “Fuck… Maybe we’re not as different as I hoped we were after all…”

“What are you going to do?” ED-E and Sue both asked simultaneously. I paused, gritting my teeth at the words worming their way around my brain.

“I’m gonna give him a way out.”

The elevator ride up was excruciatingly long and drawn out. Either this was leading up to the peak of Mount Doom, or this metal box was being pulled up by an out of shape asthmatic fat man lugging around a Fat Man and enough mini nukes to level Shady Sands.

“Friend_Courier,” ED-E began as the elevator trundled ever upwards. “Do you really think this will work?”

“Honestly? No.” I admitted. “Most of what I’ve seen of him indicates that he’s a zealot, with a very tenuous grasp on reality. Trying to convince someone like that to back down once they’ve set their mind to something by using words and logic is like trying to convince the tide to roll back by banging a pair of cinderblocks together.”

I paused, turning his last recording over and over again in my head. Not one of those moments where he was posturing, or had prepared what he’d wanted to say… but something he said when he thought nobody was listening.

“But I’ve got to try. I’ve got to try and give him the chance… Show him that he has another option. A way out.”

A heavy silence hung in the air.

“Why?” ED-E finally spoke up. I looked over at ED-E, who was staring at me intently. It took me several seconds to gather my thoughts into something resembling a cohesive response.

“Do you want the sentimental reason first, or the pragmatic reason?” He hovered back slightly, as if confused.

“Sentimental first, please. That should prove more interesting.”

“Because if he thinks he has no other choice, then he’s in the same position I was in when House asked me to wipe out the Brotherhood. He… he thinks that all of his options will lead to disaster. He’s me, a sort of… a dark, twisted reflection of me. Of what I might have been… or what I could become. And… and I have to believe he can be brought back. Not for his sake. For mine.”

“Hm.” ED-E intoned, swiveling in place to go back to looking at the elevator door. The rumble of the metal box crawling up the elevator shaft filled the silence until ED-E spoke again. “And the pragmatic reason?”

“I’m almost out of ammo,” I admitted sheepishly. “There’s no guarantee that I’d be able to kill him if he and I got into a firefight.”

The elevator continued to inch to the top.

“I think I like the pragmatic reason better,” Sue said, breaking the silence.

Ding.

The two elevator doors opened, and the chicken wire gate slid upward to reveal an absolutely massive chamber. A high vaulted ceiling loomed over a concrete bunker as long as a football field. Row after row of terminals were set into two sunken pits on either side of a long pathway in the center. Missile after missile were lined up on the sides of the chamber, held in place by clamps attached to… it almost looked like a pair of giant ammo belts, with nuclear missiles instead of bullets.

As soon as I stepped out of the elevator, a pair of eyebots zoomed overhead, speeding off to the end of the chamber. There was a low rumble, a grind of metal against metal, and the giant circular aperture in the ceiling begin to open. A bright, almost blinding, shaft of light appeared, illuminating the platform directly underneath it. The closer I got, the more I realized that grinding sound was the nuclear missile (and the towers keeping it in place) rising up from the center of the platform, moving in position to fire.

A lone figure stood on the platform, staring at the missile… or was he staring at the tattered American flag suspended over his head? The two eyebots I’d seen earlier were circling over his head, orbiting around both him and the missile in a slow circle. I approached cautiously, and was able to make out more and more details the closer I got. He was wearing a sleeveless leather duster, with a very familiar symbol painted on the back: thirteen white stars painted on a blue circle, with five vertical red stripes below it all. His bare arms were the color of coffee, or maybe chocolate, and were so toned that it looked like his muscles had been carved out of marble. Resting against his shoulder was a tall staff, tipped with an eagle – a flagpole. Like I expected from his audio logs, his black hair was arranged in a cluster of braided dreadlocks.

“Ulysses,” I said as I approached, my voice ragged. He cast a glance over his shoulder

“So…” he growled. “You came, Courier. To what? Watch your homeland burn one last time?” He started laughing – a slow, deep, guttural laugh.

“I came here to stop you,” I said, as level as I could manage. Ulysses grunted, grabbing hold of the flagpole staff as he spun around slowly to face me. He looked down at me with a pair of piercing brown eyes, but that was all I could really see of his face; his nose, mouth, and chin were all obscured by a dull grey respirator. He slammed the base of his staff on the floor next to him, which echoed through the whole chamber with a resounding clang.

“Judging by your shadow… maybe you can’t let your machine go.” He snorted and shook his head. “Doesn’t matter now. Either way, the Divide giants are awakening. The missiles here, on their way home.” He stared down at me again. “There is no way to stop them.”

“What happened at The Divide – what I did – it was an accident. But this?” I waved my hand at the missiles lined up on the walls. “Ulysses, this is madness!”

“No,” he growled out. “Now, there is purpose. I… I believe you when you say you were…” he paused. “… careless. The Divide… the Chip… the machine you brought here… Many messages can be taken from that, intended or not. What I do now… is an act of conviction.”

“Then aim that conviction at me!” I pleaded. “There’s no need to bring the horrors of The Divide to everyone else living in the rest of the world! If you blame me for The Divide, then let me answer for it!”

“Blame you?” Ulysses asked incredulously, rolling his head back and laughing. “No… No, I learned from you. Both the weapon to kill a nation and the strength to do it. You showed me a road. A way to carry my message. You’ve already answered for what you’ve done.”

“So you’re just… you’re just going to blow up the Mojave?” I asked, gritting my teeth. “Just because?”

“Not the Mojave,” Ulysses growled. “The West, and all that has been built since America died. Same symbols as before the war – a flag carried by a tribe of children.” He lifted up his staff, and pointed the eagle on top straight at me. “You walked the West. Didn’t stay. You know the reason. The Bear grows without structure… follows a symbol without knowing its history.” He brought the staff back down, and slammed the base on the floor again. “After this, only one flag will remain over the wasteland. Let that one fly… or destroy itself.”

“But… there’s no way you could destroy the NCR – not even with all the missiles here!” The words escaped my mouth before I had a chance to consider them. I honestly had no idea how many nukes were still in reserve. For all I knew, there really were enough nukes to turn the entire west coast into a glowing, radioactive smear.

“No need to destroy the Bear,” Ulysses grunted. “I just need to cut its throat. You taught me that. Only need to cut off the supply line – the road – to watch something greater die. I’ll turn the Long 15 into miles of fire. Cut off the Mojave. The Bear will fall back, lose Hoover Dam… and leave their throats exposed to the Bull. And when the Bull falters, I’ll bring that same fire to them, as well.”

“So you’re just going to let the people with no interest in the pissing contest of either side suffer?!” I shouted, my voice rising in intensity. “You may not believe in the people of the Mojave, Ulysses, but I do! And -” Ulysses cut me off before I could finish.

“Your words are as empty as your actions. You have walked the wasteland, let the shadow of flags fall upon you, and yet you walk carelessly, with no allegiance. You follow nothing at all!”

That was it. I couldn’t stand it anymore. I just balled my shaking hands into fists, gritted my teeth, and bellowed at the top of my lungs.

“SHUT UP!” I don’t know if Ulysses was caught off guard, since he didn’t move and I couldn’t see enough of his face. But he stopped talking, at least. So I pointed a shaking finger at him, and kept going. “Of COURSE I’m not following anything! I can’t be the one following, if I’m the one out in fucking FRONT!”

“What.” Ulysses said, completely free of inflection. Apparently he had been caught off guard.

“You say you’ve been learning from me – but you’ve learned NOTHING AT ALL!” Part of me knew that if I wanted try and talk him down, then shouting at him was probably not the best way to go about it, but he was just making me so… so… pissed off that I couldn’t help myself. “If you would take the time to look beyond your own pain, and see the world outside this hell you’re clinging to, then you would know what I’m trying to do back in the Mojave!”

“I have been watching you, Courier,” Ulysses grunted out as he stood his ground. “Scurrying about the Mojave, casting the shadow of Vegas wherever you go – the errand boy of a ghost, all too eager to bring the Lord of Vegas his tribute…”

“DUMBASS!” I shouted, louder than before. “House is DEAD!” If that surprised him, he didn’t show it. “You’ve seen my actions, and yet you don’t comprehend – so you’ve been learning the wrong lessons all along!” Ulysses stared at me with narrow eyes for a few seconds.

“That is not for you to say,” Ulysses growled out eventually. “Comes down to perspective. How far one’s walked. What they’ve left behind…” He snorted. “Speak. If you truly challenge this moment, then let us hear your perspective.”

“I’ve been trying to lay the groundwork for something new in the Mojave! A new nation – a new flag! Independent of the NCR, Legion, and House! Taking the shattered pieces of this broken world, and forging them into something better, something stronger… a new whole, greater than the sum of its parts!”

“And yet death follows your shadow.” he replied coldly. “You will reap only ruin.”

“Yes, but what I did to The Divide by accident, you would do with purpose!” I said, throwing his words back into his face. “If you launch those missiles, then you’ll be making a choice to kill a new nation before it has a chance to take its first breath. Just like the NCR would do, just like the Legion would do – and worse than what you accused me of!” Again, Ulysses was silent for a few seconds… and then shook his head

“You walk blindly, foolishly into death. Your own, and others. You do not rule my actions – and do not mistake my acts for yours!”

“No danger there, then!” I said, as mocking as I could muster. “You’ve completely skipped past where you’d build the community, and moved straight onto killing one!”

Ulysses took a single step back, and turned slightly to gaze up at the warhead.

“Nothing can prevent what comes,” he said, regaining his composure. “The missiles willlaunch.” He paused, turning back to look at me. “These… questions. Your words, or mine… what do they matter to you?”

“Because I believe I can create something greater than myself. A new symbol, fashioned from the dreams of those who have fallen… and the hopes of those who will follow. I did it before. I can do it again… You know this.” I reached up without warning, and unbuckled the straps on my helmet; in one swift motion, I pulled it free and tossed it aside. The helmet clattered on the metal floor, echoing throughout the chamber. “Ulysses… You’ve seen what I can do. You’ve seen the things I can accomplish merely by accident. Just imagine what I can do when I try.”

Ulysses stared at me for a moment, looked back up at the warhead, and then back at me once again.

“History… has proven this.” He said eventually. “Our history. Do you think that you have this strength? Enough to hold back both the NCR and Legion, so that the spirit of The Divide may once again live within the Mojave?”

“I do,” I said in an unwavering tone. I stood my ground, maintaining my gaze to back up how firmly I felt. But Ulysses merely shook his head.

“Even if you speak truly… nothing you do can prevent the launch,” Ulysses sighed, and his grip on the staff loosened enough that it fell back against his shoulder. “Convincing me… changes nothing.”

“No. Convincing you changes everything,” I said, approaching the stairs and carefully making my way closer to Ulysses. “Destroying the symbol is never the answer. But changing it? That’s something else entirely. Come on. We can stop this. You can stop this…” As I approached, Ulysses stepped back, and turned around to face the missile and the suspended flag behind him fully.

“It may be…” he grunted out eventually. “That as much destruction has been written in the earth here…” He sighed. “One buried this place, yet it lived on between us. One may build it again… build… others. Your history has…” He turned to face me just as I reached the last step; we were now facing each other at arms length, seeing eye-to-eye for the first time. “There is truth in your words. But even… even if there is hope in change… it… it may not matter. The Divide still stands against us.”

Suddenly, that familiar yet unpleasant sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach took root, and refused to let go.

“What do you mean, The Divide?” I asked. Ulysses looked up at me with sadness in his piercing brown eyes – the look of a man resigned to die.

“Our enemies gather outside. Shadows of the Bear and Bull. Tunnelers. Deathclaws. All are coming. They will have found their way in, just as you did.” I was about to question, but Ulysses kept going: “It… it was always my intention. In case I could not kill you, then all the horrors of The Divide would flood this place, cut off your escape. And now, in my hubris, I fear I have doomed us both.”

“FUCK THAT!” I shouted. He regarded me curiously, as if he didn’t quite understand the words coming out of my mouth. “You expect me to believe that after everything that’s happened, you’re just going to curl up and die? I don’t believe that for a fuckin’ second!. So what if they’re coming? I say let ’em! They won’t take me without a fight!” I grabbed him by the shoulder, and he seemed just a tiny bit concerned by my wide-eyed, manic grin and shaking fist. “We can fight them – together. And we can WIN!” Ulysses stared at me as I spoke to him, considering my words. And then, he nodded curtly.

“Yes…” He stepped away from me, reaching up to grip the edge of the suspended flag. “If we cannot prevent what comes, then let us make our final stand here.” He tore the flag down from the wires holding it in place, and attached it to the staff, brandishing the flagpole like a glaive or halberd. I turned, just as ED-E came to fly above our heads, near the other two eyebots circling Ulysses. A rumble echoed through the chamber, like a distant explosion, and I shrugged my shoulder to bring the G36 to bear.

The instant before the madness started, Ulysses had one last thing to say as we stood shoulder to shoulder, armed and waiting for the horrors coming to kill us:

“We shall stand… Two Couriers, together, at the end of the world!”