New Vegas: Sheason's Story

Chapter 49: Strike Up The Band

The metal elevator doors slid open - though, when I say 'slid' they more 'ground against one another dropping a cloud of rust in their wake.' Honestly, I was glad to be getting out of it, and the rust falling off the door wasn't actually the final straw. This wasn't like one of House's elevators - it trundled and creaked and groaned and rumbled the whole way up. I was starting to think the mute woman had a point about not wanting to enter the elevator.

I found myself in a small, thoroughly destroyed room, covered in rubble and littered with filth and grime. It wasn't as dark as it could have been, however, due to the massive hole in the wall, leading outside. I made my way to the hole in the wall, tiptoeing over the scattered debris and upturned tables to get a look outside.

A crack of thunder boomed in the mass of Cloud overhead the moment I stuck my head outside. I was holding onto the side of the wall as I looked out and down, and unconsciously let out a long, low whistle. I was much, much higher than four stories - at least, it felt like it, looking down.

"Damn... that's a... yeah, that's a long fall." I looked around, and realized there was no way down. Any rooftops that I could aim for were way too far away for me to jump toward (probably not far enough for the mute woman, though...). There wasn't anything below the hole that could break my fall except the ground, and that was sure to break my spine.

I backed away from the hole and looked around, trying to find anything in the room that might help me get down. It didn't seem like there was anything except destroyed furniture and broken filing cabinets. On the wall, though, I saw something that caught my eye - it was a poster, covered by dirt and grime and (presumably) cloud. What caught my eye about it was the small image of a kitchen knife I saw poking out from underneath the filth - the same kind of knives I'd seen all over the Villa.

I tore a piece of cloth off a nearby sofa, and started wiping away the grime until I could see the rest of the poster. The knife was being held by a man in a spacesuit with a ridiculous curly mustache, and a white chef's hat sitting on top of his clear domed helmet. Next to him was an anvil and a chicken - the end of the anvil and the chicken's head had been cut off completely, and both were sitting on the floor. Next to the spaceman-chef was a small stylized planet with a ring around it, and the word "Saturnite" underneath.

" 'A superior precision-forged blade from space-age materials developed by military scientists'." I said aloud, reading the words written in big block letters on the poster. " 'Cosmic knife: Stays sharp and will last a lifetime'... huh." I pulled one of the kitchen knives I'd stolen off the Ghost People and looked at it, thinking about everything it had cut through. I looked over to the hole in the wall, and back at the knife in my hands... and suddenly, I had an idea.

Of course, when I took another look out the hole, and took in just how far I had to fall if I fucked up...

"This is a stupid idea, Fisher," I said aloud, holding onto the edge of the hole in the wall, and positioning most of my body on the outside. "This is a very, very stupid idea, Fisher! What the fuck are you doing, man!" I took the knife in my right hand, and jammed it into the wall. It slid into the plaster and brick as easy as you please, burying itself almost up to the handle. I grabbed hold of it as tight as I could... and let go of the wall.

I started to slide down the side, my boots scraping against the wall. I grabbed hold of the knife with both hands; it was cutting through the side of the wall like a hot knife through butter. I couldn't help but shut my eyes and grimace as a shower of sparks pelted me in the face and chest. I kept falling down the side of the building, with the knife slowing my descent just enough, until...

Thud.

I'd stopped moving, of that much I was certain. I opened my eyes and looked around. I was standing on firm ground, with all my limbs and bones and internal organs intact. Of course, I still felt the need to pat myself up and down to make sure, for all the good it would do.

"Alright... okay then. I'm alive. So... that worked, I guess. Okay, good. Good to know." Slowly, I let go of the knife completely, and gave myself a moment to laugh - especially when I looked up. The wall now had a giant, long scar from the knife going all the way to the hole in the wall four stories up.

I just... I kept laughing. I couldn't help myself.

"Hah hah haa... ohh... heh... oh, I must be crazy." I pulled the knife out of the wall, and took a look at it - it looked exactly the same as when I'd started. No scratches, no scuffs... even the Cloud residue was still covering the side. "I gotta do that again sometime."

When I got back to the Fountain, I found Dean sitting on the edge, still staring up at the holographic woman. The strange thing was, he was no longer smoking - it looked like he was drinking something out of an old whiskey bottle.

"Ah, about time you showed up," Dean said casually. "You were gone so long, I wasn't sure if you were coming back."

"You should know better by now," I said, tossing Dean a can of beans. "Here." Dean just watched as it sailed through the air - and kept watching as it landed at his feet, without even attempting to catch it.

"What's this?" Dean asked.

"It's a can of beans, what do you think?" I said, holding up my own. "What, are you too good for beans now? I'm trying to be nice here. You said you still need to eat, right?"

"Well, yes. At least, I think so..." Dean started to lift the whiskey bottle to his broken and cracked lips, but stopped halfway to raise it in my direction so I could take a look at it; the inside looked like dirty brown water. "I'm fine with my martini for the moment, thank you very much."

"Martini?" I asked. "Is that what that's supposed to be?" Dean gulped down a little of the drink and nodded.

"Yes - a Sierra Madre Martini. A concoction of my own recipe. Not as glamorous as dining in the Cantina Madrid, but..." he cleared his throat. "Scrape some Cloud residue off the walls, mash it in a tin can with some junk food from the vending machines, boil it over a hot plate for thirty minutes or until it's no longer chunky - whichever comes first - then hold your nose and down it. I don't have a nose, so." He smiled grimly once again, and drank the last of it.

"Hang on, you're drinking shit with Cloud in it - willingly? Are you insane? That shit nearly killed me when I fell into some, and you're trying to tell me you made a drink out of it?" I couldn't believe he was serious.

"If you don't like it, don't ask for any." Dean just shrugged, and tossed aside the empty bottle; it fell into the far end of the fountain and shattered. "It's not like I'm asking you to try any."

"Whatever." I shook my head, and reached down to pick up the can of beans. If he wasn't going to eat it... I heard Dean scoff something about "Tourist..." under his breath as I got back up. "Are you ready to go or what?"

"Sure, sure," Dean got up off the fountain and dusted himself off. "So, where are we off to, dear?" I looked down at my Pip Boy, and scrolled to the map.

"According to the marker, you're slated for this spot. Know where this is?" I showed him the map on my arm. Dean looked at it carefully for a few minutes.

"Yes... looks like a rooftop in Puesta del Sol. In better days, nice view. Now? It's the last place anyone wants to stand when the event the old man wants us to trigger goes off. That place, during Spring... Summer... Fall... maybe a little bit in Winter? It's a prime resort spot for the Ghost People. Not really the best of neighborhoods." Dean reached into his jacket and pulled out a packet of smokes. Something he said got me thinking, though...

"This Gala thing, whatever it is. Know anything about it?" I asked. Dean chuckled.

"Know anything? Sure... sure. It's supposed to be the Grand Opening of the Sierra Madre. Lot of a lights, music, the works. And, from what I can tell, he's going to use the Gala Event to open the casino. Isn't that interesting..." Dean smiled wide, lighting the cigarette.

"What do you mean, interesting? Why would the Gala Event open the casino? How?" I asked. Before he got a chance to answer, I added: "I already know Elijah triggered it once before. God already said as much. Why would he need to trigger it a second time?"

"I've no idea why he'd need to trigger it twice... I mean, who ever heard of a casino with two Grand Openings?" Dean chuckled, a puff of smoke bursting out of his face where his nose should've been. "Still... maybe the drain in power caused by the Gala, that'll cause the security systems to shut down enough to let us in. But... getting back out? No... no, this place'll close up tighter than an opening at the Fronds. Or Danny Parker's sphincter when he has to tip the doorman." Dean laughed again.

"Wait, back up. You said something about a drain in power, yes? Does that mean this Gala Event is tied into the casino's generators?" I asked. Dean took a long draw from his cigarette before answering.

"Right, look - so, not everything about the Sierra Madre was the pinnacle of bright ideas."

"I've gathered that," I tried to say as dryly as I could. Dean smirked, and took another draw from his cigarette.

"In order to pull off the Gala, old Sinclair had to get creative... the Sierra Madre announcement, for example. Not just the casino, no... not at all. The Gala's tied to the casino, draws on its power. Might cause it to reset itself, opening the doors for a bit. Like it was supposed to, all those decades ago."

"What about the announcement?" I stopped and looked around - I thought I'd heard something behind me. Were there Ghost People on the way?

"Vera's beautiful voice over the radio doesn't run on casino power. At least... not exactly. Her broadcast - the one that drew you here, I imagine - is tied into the emergency broadcast signal for the Sierra Madre. You know, in case of communist Chinese attack? Well guess what? The night of the Gala Event - the night of the Bomb - the emergency signal went out all right. But because the broadcast had been hooked up to the Gala Event, instead of an emergency signal, you get the chance to hear Vera's beautiful voice on the radio. Great, huh?"

"So... the bombs fell, and the emergency signal went out... it's not an invitation. It's a call for help." Until Elijah sent it into the Mojave, and turned it into a trap. "Has it been broadcasting all this time?"

"Yes... the Sierra Madre's last song. One only a few people are ever going to hear. A little sad, but what can you do?" Dean tossed aside the cigarette. "So, are we going to leave, or stand around bullshitting about history all day?"

"Alright... yeah, you're right. C'mon let's go," I said, starting to walk west. "Any idea why he wants you in that spot, anyway?"

"Partner, I'm not sure this guy is operating with a full deck, if you catch my meaning." The irony of Dean calling anybody crazy was not lost on me - if anyone could be accused of being a few cards short of a full house, it was Dean. "My bet? Process of elimination. Lowest common denominator." Dean pulled out another cigarette with a smile.

"I thought you said you weren't a betting man," I said back at him with a smirk. Dean's smile evaporated instantly.

"Cute," Dean sighed. "I've had prime billing in Europe, New York... this gig doesn't feel like that. Don't get me wrong, I can hold an audience, conduct a score from the rooftops, but... I'm guessing I'm the odd man out in this whole heist."

"Odd man out? I'm... I'm not sure I follow."

"He figures the 'Strong Man's' needed somewhere else, even if the Strong Man's two minds about the affair," Dean smirked again. "And the looker, the mute who's been carved up, sounds like she's been sent someplace where speaking isn't important. Stage tech, maybe? But me... I'm the odd man out. Dead weight. Someone you need holding the toolbox, the nurse passing the scalpel, the chauffer driving you to the concert. Any guy with hands is who he needs up on that rooftop. Guess he thinks I don't rate, looking like I do..." Dean took out his lighter and lit the smoke, the flame from the lighter reflecting off his sunglasses... and then added something else, under his breath:

"Poor him."

Beep

"Hold up!" I turned back to Dean, and urged him back. "Back up, there's a speaker around here, somewhere." The two of us backed up, until my collar stopped beeping. I drew the pistol from under my arm, looking around for the speaker; I glanced back at Dean, and realized that he'd pulled a pistol from somewhere as well. Of course, he still hadn't gotten rid of his (eighth) cigarette...

"You know, if I'd known these damn speakers would become so much of a nuisance, I'd have broken them all decades ago." Dean muttered, looking around.

"If it was such a hassle, why didn't you leave the Sierra Madre when you had the chance?" I asked, slowly inching forward, trying to get a view to where the speaker might be. "You had ample opportunity to leave this shithole before you got that bomb collar strapped to your neck, but you didn't. You could've avoided all this by leaving this place behind and finding a place out in the rest of the world where everything ISN'T trying to kill you."

"You wouldn't understand," Dean practically spat back. He pulled the lit cigarette out of his mouth and tossed it in my direction; it missed my head by about six inches, maybe. "You're just a tourist, a greedy fortune hunter lured by the treasure of the Sierra Madre. You're searching for a promise you don't understand, and have no hope of-"

Beep.

Thankfully, Dean shut up - giving me time to find the speaker. I saw a white light about 10 yards away, next to a 2nd story window. I knelt down and took aim at the speaker, and fired. The speaker didn't explode. Damn. I fired again, and then a third time. The speaker exploded in a shower of sparks, and my collar went silent. However...

Ragged, doppler breathing began to echo off the walls. I holstered the pistol and swung the holorifle off my back, looking around for the source. Dean was behind me, close to a small alcove, framed by a low overhang - and my eyes went wide when I saw the Ghost Person standing on the roof, holding a gas bomb in it's hand.

"Look out!" I yelled, rushing towards Dean. I practically tackled him, shoving us both into the alcove. Dean didn't have time to complain - or if he did, I couldn't hear him over the sound of the gas bomb erupting into a mass of fire and shrapnel. Heat washed over me, my ears rang, and I felt stones and gravel from the road peppering my back and the back of my head.

I turned around, the holorifle drawn, not knowing if the explosion from the gas bomb had died down yet. The Ghost Person probably didn't care - why should I? Sure enough, the street was still on fire. The Ghost Person dropped off the roof, spear in hand just as I turned around. It wheeled around and lifted the spear... only to get shot in the face with a mass of holographic blue cubes. It tumbled backwards, head over heels, with a mass of slowly disappearing cubes following in it's wake.

"It's trick," Dean said as he advanced on the fallen Ghost Person, his pistol still drawn. "Get an axe."

Sklutch.

Dean just looked at me oddly from behind his sunglasses after I buried the business end of my spear into the Ghost Person's neck. One good twist, and the head popped off with a spurt of white fluid bursting from its neck. The dismembered head rolled away, down the street, leaving a small trail of white fluid behind it.

"Yeah..." I pulled the spear out of the ground and returned it to it's holster on my back. "You gonna tell me something I don't know, or are you going to keep saying shit everyone's already figured out?" Dean cleared his throat, and put his pistol back inside his jacket. He turned, and pointed off to his left.

"We should head through that hole in the wall there. If we go backstage, we can avoid the locals."

"Probably," I said, walking past him, toward the doorway. There was a small sign on the door that read: "DANGER! Permit-required. Confined Space. Do Not Enter." and below it: "PELIGRO! Espacio cerrada, entrada solo con permisio."

"What?" Dean asked, following me.

"We can probably avoid the locals. I'm not stupid enough to think that there's any safe place from those zombies. Not here."

"So," Dean looked up at the building. "This is where I'm supposed to put on the show? Played better venues, let me tell you."

"Yeah, you said that already," I replied, trying to ignore the stinging sensation in my eyes. In front of us was a tall, three story building, that looked like it was U-shaped, with the top of the 'U' facing us. There was a small archway connecting the two pillars... and just behind that, was another thick miasma of Cloud. It was sitting between us and (presumably) the way up. I still didn't understand how the Cloud could just sit there in a concentrated clump, churning and bubbling away, without expanding outward. Or maybe it was, and it was just so slow that I didn't notice.

"I suppose there's really no choice, is there?" Dean sighed, tossing aside his cigarette... and without another word, he stepped forward and stepped into the Cloud. I was standing there, dumbfounded, watching as the Cloud folded around him as he walked forward, and disappeared.

"Holy... fuck that noise. I'm not going back into that shit." I said, looking around. I still had to get up there somehow, if only to make sure Dean was going to stay. My eyes fixed on a light that was bolted into the wall - right below a small overhang. With any luck...

I backed up, placing my foot on a nearby fountain to brace myself - and ran towards the wall. Before smashing headfirst into it, however, I jumped up with all my might, grasping at the light first, and then the overhang, trying to steady myself with my feet doing my best to find grip on a completely flat wall. Slowly but surely, I pulled myself up. A minute or so later, I was walking along the narrow slanted roof; I was hugging the wall, doing my damndest not to fall into the Cloud right below me.

There was a hole in the wall ahead of me - so I headed for that. I let out a sigh of relief when I stepped into a room where I didn't have to balance precariously above a mass of poison. There was a staircase leading up, a staircase leading down, and off to the side was a terminal that looked like it was still activated. I was just about to head up, when I was met halfway by Dean.

"Oh," was all he said, coming to a stop in front of me. He seemed... disappointed.

"What took you so long?" I said, trying not to smirk as I walked up the stairs, Dean following behind me. Before I knew it, I'd reached the top of the stairs - and as I stepped outside onto the balcony of the top floor, looking out to the Villa below, the speaker on my Pip Boy crackled to life. Oh boy. Here we go again.

"You're at the Ghoul's Gala area..." I heard Elijah's voice crackle over the speaker. It almost sounded like he was having trouble maintaining the connection. "Now - make him stay." The last word faded quickly, and the static disappeared with a pop.

"That the boss-man, threatening you with decapitation again?" Dean said from behind me. I turned around and gave him a nod, and Dean just shook his head as he walked past me, lighting another cigarette and looking around the balcony.

"What's that there?" He said, pointing at a nearby corner. "Is that... wiring?" I looked over his shoulder - it did indeed look like about half a dozen wires (one of which had been cut in half) that had been pulled out of a nearby electrical box on the wall. "Looks like it's tied into the sound system for the rest of the Villa, except for that snipped section there. So... what, I stand here, hold the two ends in my hands, and tap them together like cymbals?" Dean turned back to me, and shook his head. "No thanks."

"I could just jam both wires into your neck, close the circuit that way." I was starting to get fed up with Dean, and - I admit - I was losing my temper. Probably not the most diplomatic thing to say, but really... can you blame me?

"Real funny," Dean said with a slight snarl. "Although... after your "collar talk" in the Residential Area... I believe you. I still don't want to stay."

"And why not?" I asked, folding my arms across my chest. "God agreed to stay at his station. The mute woman is staying at hers. Why are you going to be difficult?"

"Because," Dean grabbed his cigarette, and pointed it at the courtyard below. "I strike up the speaker system, there's going to be ghosts all over this place. Any big change in the sounds around here... the Ghost People are not big on talking. They're big on listening. Hunting. Killing. They're more vicious than music critics, believe me."

"Right. Okay. So. What's it going to take to get you to stay here?" I asked, hoping against hope that this wasn't going to turn into another one of those damn fetch quests I'd been doing lately.

"Take?" Dean put the cigarette back in his mouth, and let out a grim laugh. "It's not going to take anything, because you couldn't offer me anything to stay here. The Ghost People'll come out of the woodwork when the Gala Event starts blaring - they did the last time it went off. And when they see me up here, trapped, with only the one exit? It's curtains for Dean. And I may look like a rotten, dead son of a bitch... but I'm partial to living."

"You know, you're the second ghoul to say that to me," I said, thinking back to when I was clearing out the REPCONN basement, and met Harland. I stopped, actually thinking back to that... it felt like it had been so long ago now. But it had only been a couple of weeks, right? I shook it off, and continued talking to Dean. "Alright, so, here's my idea. If I clear out the Ghost People in the area," I pulled the holorifle off my back, and checked to make sure it was loaded "will you change your mind then?"

"No," Dean said simply. "And do you want to know why? Because there's more of them beneath the streets, in the buildings, and, oh... everywhere else. They hear anything out of the ordinary - especially music screaming through the speakers once I close the connection? They'll swarm the area, just like I'd set off one of my distractions. I'd never make it out."

"Right, right... of course not." I tried to rack my brain to think of any way I could get him to stay. And that's when I remembered the Fountain at the center of town - and something Dean had said. Didn't he say that he thought the holograms kept people away? "Alright... I got an idea I think you'll like, then."

"I doubt it, but I'll have a listen. What did you have in mind?"

"The Villa has holograms everywhere, right? If I can find some nearby and activate them to cover the area, wouldn't that keep out the Ghost People?" I asked. Dean was in the middle of taking another draw from his cigarette when he paused halfway, apparently thinking about this idea. After about a minute or so, he started slowly nodding his head.

"Yeah... yeah. If the hologram systems still work, that is. That might just do the trick. If you were to call up some of those Old World stiffs... that'd be an audience I wouldn't mind having below." Excellent! Now I was making progress. Thank fuck.

"Alright, I'll go and turn on as many holograms as I can find. You better stay if I do, though," I said. Dean just scoffed... but gave me a single tip before I left.

"If I remember correctly, there should be two of those ghosts you can switch on in the area... I just don't quite remember how. Do that, and I'll consider waiting on the rooftop. Maybe."

"Right..." I thought about it - and recalled the still activated terminal just below us. "I think I know where to start."

"Both of them are on," I said when I got back. Dean looked at me oddly when I came back up the stairs.

"Really? Let me see..." He peered over the side of the balcony and looked down - there was one of the holographic security guards standing vigil right next to the balcony, and directly below us - inside the Cloud - was an amorphous glowing mass. I didn't check, because I didn't want to venture too close to that toxic Cloud, but I guessed that was another one of the security holograms. "Hmm... yeah. I suppose that's pretty good protection. It certainly worked at the Fountain - and I don't think Vera had any lasers either, and she seemed to keep the Ghost People away. But..."

"But?" I had to really keep myself from shouting. "What the fuck now, Dean?"

"Well... uh... how do I know the power won't suddenly go out? And... I don't know. This still seems way too risky to me. For me."

That was the absolute last straw.

"Listen to me, you fuck!" I was almost shouting now, I was so furious, and I was advancing towards him with a scowl on my face. "I don't want to be here. I don't want to stay here. All I want is to get the fuck out of this hellhole, and until I can figure out a way to take THIS off my neck," I clutched at the bomb collar. "without blowing my own head off, I've got to follow Elijah's instructions. I don't like it, and it can be dangerous, but I'm going to do it anyway because right now I don't have a choice - and neither do you. Right now, he wants you here. Now, I've activated those holograms just so that you can feel safe up here - which is more than I did for the other two - and you're still being difficult? Fuck you! I'm not about to trade your life for mine, got it?" Dean's cigarette was hanging limply out of his mouth, and he was cowering backwards during my whole rant... but he eventually shook it off and regained his composure.

"Uh... yeah. Yes, yes... I suppose... yes, well, I suppose you have a point."

"Damn right I do. Does this mean you're going to stay now?" I tried to calm my breathing, backing off a bit. Dean nodded slowly.

"Yes, I'll stay. But listen. When this thing goes off... and you try and get into the Sierra Madre without me? You'll wish you hadn't." It didn't slip past my attention the venom of his words as the smoke curled around his head. I just shook my head, and turned to leave.

"You still don't get it, Dean. I don't care about the Madre. I just care about getting the fuck out of here."

"Of course you do, of course... You're just like all the others who said they wanted their freedom..." Dean muttered as I turned from him and walked away. "We'll see..."

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