The Good Life: Some Enchanted Evening (ch. 46) (Patreon)

“I would like a human body,” Curie announced as we were putting the finishing touches on my control over the Institute. The deal was pretty simple, when it came right down to it -- the Institute was going to be absorbed into Nuka-World's overall structure as our science division. They would dedicate research to what we wished to be researched -- food production, environmental treatments, and so on.

All in exchange for supplies, materials, and a degree of autonomy. The Institute was pretty small in terms of population -- fifty of the two hundred people I had marked were actually synths. They had a couple of research teams for various projects that they were still interested in pursuing. So, letting them pursue those ideas, which would benefit us in the long run, was a no brainer. Their issues were space and power production, both of which could be solved.

Another two hundred people was a drop in the bucket in terms of population and they brought a whole lot more to the table than they did in terms of resource consumption.

Both Shaun and I looked over at Curie -- Shaun seemed vaguely interested while I was curious. That prompted Curie to explain, “While my current body is suitable for furthering my scientific ambitions, I believe that without a synth body, I would be limited in my discoveries. It would also be a step towards the Institute's stated goal!”

Shaun seemed very interested now, “I will admit the idea does carry some merit. We've never tried to transfer the processing unit of a machine into the body of a synth. In theory, it should work. It's merely a transfer of data, but I am uncertain if the… hardware will be compatible.”

I tilted my head, an idea striking me. “It'd be easier to go from plastic and steel to meat than meat to plastic and steel,” I ventured, playing with the idea in the back of my mind, but I would need to see more. I don't think I was quite good enough with my power to pull off what I was thinking about, but I probably wasn't that far off either. “If that's what she wants, then add it to the list.”

Shaun nodded easily, “In addition to dedicating teams to research environment restoration, full access to our teleportation network, producing copies of this Nuka-Gen-Replicator, and synergizing the Forced Evolutionary Virus with this ‘Compound V’, we will create a body for… Curie, was it?” He agreed easily.

Curing his cancer put him in a good mood. There wasn't really a need to take his heart, or anyone else's for that matter, to ensure their compliance. And, if I was being perfectly honest, I wasn't sure how I felt about stealing hearts now that Cinder had gone buck fucking wild with the bomb collars. There were too many similarities for my taste. So, I decided to go with a softer touch.

The Institute just wanted to do science things and they didn't want their hands tied up with red tape. I wasn't inclined to stop them and I was even less likely to stop them from doing science, whatever that might be.

“We can begin the process right now, if you would like? We have the materials necessary to create a synth,” Shaun said, and I knew what he was doing. He wanted to show off the shiny toys to make sure that I would keep a loose leash on the institute. And I had to admit, he had me pegged to a T. I loved shiny toys.

“How wonderful!” Curie said, bobbing in the air eagerly and I was pretty curious how this was going to work. Shaun got up, and smiled to himself. Before the injection, he seemed to have chronic pain, and that was gone now.

“Synth creation is not particularly resource intensive -- using only proteins, minerals, and metals that are all fairly common. However, it is energy intensive as you shall soon see,” Shaun began, giving a speech as he led me, Curie, and Rumi down into the depths of the institute. The place was still on alert, and I could feel the uncertainty and the fear in those that were silently watching us go by. “For most, we build them off a genetic template then build the body up according to the blueprints in your DNA.”

I saw where he was leading us and I found myself interested as we walked into a large room. It was about the size of my old penthouse back in New York. What caught my attention first was the massive thingamajig in the center of the room suspended over what seemed to be a pool of boiling blood. It was composed of two massive robotic arms, one a claw that had its grip on a disk that had a thin wire mesh in the center of it, large enough to fit a person, and the other was equipped with about a dozen different fingers with medical attachments to them. It reminded me of an auto doc that had been scavenged in Nuka World.

“These synths. Are they baseline humans?” Rumi asked, sounding like she was becoming interested in the whole process, if vaguely disturbed.

“Genetically speaking, yes. We do edit the genome of DNA samples collected to prevent something like one of our synths developing cancer, but more advanced gene editing is rarely done. Less because we can't, but more due to it being an unnecessary investment of time and resources. We were exploring possibilities with the FEV, as it would have done the bulk of the work for us… alas, our lead geneticist suffered a psychotic break.”

As he spoke, Curie found a terminal. Without much prompting, she plugged herself into it with a jack cord and I caught flashes of screens appearing on the monitor with a stuttering delay. Seems like she was talking to it, computer to computer.

“So… the synths. They can get sick?” Rumi questioned with a tilt of her head while Shaun looked like he wanted to protest Curie tapping into the computer but knew better than to do so.

“It's possible, but quite rare. They possess a functioning immune system, but are far more streamlined than humans. It would be a waste of resources if one of our synths caught the flu and deactivated because of it.” Shaun answered and I caught a glimpse of a face on the screen of the terminal. I just caught dark hair, blue eyes and vaguely pretty features.

“Are you sure you aren't actually creating people here?” Rumi pressed, crossing her arms. “If it looks like a duck, quacks like a duck, it's probably a fucking duck.”

Shaun's lips pressed together into a thin line. “I understand why you would believe that, but synths really are nothing more than highly advanced machines. I would go as far as to say that your medical bot- Curie is more of a person than any synth. She is capable of wants and ambitions beyond her outlined guidance protocols, likely through a series of cascading failures in her OS. A synth cannot.” He stressed.

Rumi seemed less than convinced while I peeped over Curie's metaphorical shoulder until I heard the machine start winding up. Of the three platforms around the room, I saw that bones were being fabricated. As that happened, Shaun continued, “Synths are not capable of independent programming. When a synth wants something, it is because that desire falls within a set of parameters. We have several long standing projects that confirm our findings -- even under the most strenuous of mental conditions, a synth's base personality will not change. Cannot. A synth copy of someone kind, loyal, and honorable will continue to be those things no matter how many times they suffer for it.”

I hummed, watching the bones take shape. “A toaster can only be a toaster,” I quoted, but I wasn't sure who.

Shaun seemed relieved that I understood. “Indeed. One day, synths may be recognized as human beings that are capable of independent thought, but that is not today-” he finished just as the synth maker came to life. I took a step back as the large arms swept over to where I stood, placing the disk on the platform.

I watched with interest as a skeleton was rapidly assembled by the robotic arm. Curie's new body seemed to be around five foot five. With the skeleton built, the disk was then carried to another platform where the robotic arm shifted to become a dozen knitting needles. At least, that's the only way I could describe the muscle fibers, veins, tendons, cartlidge, and body fats being stitched together into complete muscular and cardiovascular systems. It took a few passes, but the entire process took about ten minutes to create everything a human body needed.

Then the body was stabbed, the veins filled with blood before a shock of electricity gave the body life. The final step of the process was to dip the pool of what looked like boiling blood. I'm guessing it was something else because a minute later, a fully formed body was taken out of the pool.

I let out a low whistle -- Curie was a looker. Dark hair, high cheekbones, a strong jaw with kissable lips. Her neck was slender, her breasts full and capped by rosey pink nipples, an hourglass figure with a flat stomach and wide hips. Honestly, it was as if Curie had distilled every attractive trait into a single body. And, I suppose that's exactly what she did.

“Where shall we begin the transferring process?” Curie questioned, taking herself out of the computer. “I am most excited! I feel as if I am the cusp of a most wonderful discovery!” Curie said, floating over to the body that she would soon inhabit. There didn't seem to be anyone behind the bright blue eyes, the synth body simply staring ahead. Brain dead, I realized. Perfect for Curie to step into.

Shaun gestured, “Right this way please.” He requested, taking us to a back room to the synth creation area. There were a couple of pod looking things that were connected by some wires via a computer. I watched in fascination as Curie and her new body were each placed in a pod. Shaun overlooked the process as he explained. “The memory lounger was a fascinating piece of technology developed shortly before the bombs fell. It taps into the brain directly, hijacking the senses, and induces a hallucination of another's memories. However, if taken further, we discovered that it can project brainwaves and synapse structure onto another brain -- which is what we use to create synth copies of people.”

I felt… something as the process began. I only really noticed it because I was looking really hard for it, but it was like a light in Curie got a little dimmer and it was transferred into her new body. “But it's just a copy?” I echoed, making Shaun nod.

“We're working on fine-tuning the technology. Advancing it in hand with our synth technology,” he offered.

“So, if this thing snagged a copy of my memories and I printed out a synth copy of myself… could I just upload them into the body and have another me running around?” I asked, looking at Curie to see the first signs of activity. Her eyes were starting to move underneath her eyelids.

“That's a fucking terrifying thought,” Rumi offered with a shudder while Shaun nodded slowly.

“It would require a lengthy procedure to copy your memories over, but it is possible. Though, the synth would not truly be a copy of you as you would acquire new experiences, memories, and feelings between the data collections. The standard process for copying brainwaves is more… invasive. A snapshot of a person -- who they are, all their memories and feelings, at that moment.” He replied and I played around with the idea a little in the back of my mind while Rumi scoffed.

“Murder. You murder them and put a copy in their place,” Rumi growled, and Shaun's gaze flickered to me. For protection.

I pursed my lips, glancing over at Rumi for a moment, who was watching me out of the corner of her eye. Waiting. Judging. So, I looked back at Shaun, “Stop kidnapping people, killing them, and replacing them with synths.”

Shaun didn’t even hesitate, “Provided that you uphold your end of the bargain, there won’t be a need to. It was only ever done as a defensive measure to protect the Institute.” That was a big fat fucking lie if I ever heard one. I didn’t have any proof, but that wasn’t how people operated. You didn’t have a tool like the perfect infiltrator and used it purely for self-defense. No, I’m sure if I took a look in their records, I’d find all kinds of plans to subtly take over the wasteland without anyone being the wiser.

However, I turned to Rumi and offered two thumbs up and a smile. Her eyes rolled to the ceiling, but I could tell the promise was mollifying enough for now. Rumi didn’t possess a rigid sense of morality, but she did have one, and she wasn’t willing to bend it when something pushed against it.

“So, how long is this going to take?” I asked, gesturing to Curie as I felt the… ‘light’ in her robotic body get a little dimmer once more.

To that, Shaun shook his head. “Under normal circumstances, it would already be done. But, she is a machine and it is taking time to translate binary into biological data. I’m not seeing any errors, however. Based on the rate of progress… I expect it would take around thirty minutes.” Hm. Enough time to wait but not enough time to really do anything.

Well, there was one thing that I could do. “Your mum is still up top,” I said, watching as Shaun tensed. “You going to do anything about that? That little reunion was a tear jerker, for all the wrong reasons.”

He worked his jaw, “I don’t see how that’s any concern of yours.” He was right there, I could admit.

I shrugged, “It’s not. Just asking if you’re content to leave things like this. Not everyone is so blessed to have a parent that gives a shit about them. Much less hunt them down across a literal wasteland in the hopes of a reunion. I sure didn’t. Pretty sure my mom’s last words for me were ‘I should have had you turning tricks in alleys because then you could have at least been useful.’” I directed the words at Shaun, but Rumi recoiled from them.

Didn’t expect that reaction from her, so I offered a shrug. “It wasn’t an accident that I turned out as fucked up as I am,” I offered with an indifferent shrug. It used to bother me, but that was back in the day. The days when I wasn’t Law. Now, I could see the humor in it -- the only reason my mother hadn’t pimped me out as a kid for drugs was that she was so strung out on drugs that the idea never occurred to her, even if it would have helped her get another fix.

No long-term planning.

Rumi's lips thinned, her expression conflicted before looking away. I turned my attention back to Shaun, who was openly grimacing. “I am aware of the… lengths that she has gone to, but she expected a baby. Instead, I'm old enough to be her father and I… don't much care that my father was murdered,” he admitted. “It's regrettable that the Institute lost a valuable sample of pre-war DNA, but I never knew him. The Institute raised me. It is my home. My family. And I am its father.”

He drank the kool-aid, in other words. It was understandable, really. “So that's it?” I prompted, and Shaun looked away.

“... Yes. I do believe that it is,” he muttered more to himself than to me.

I felt a pang of sympathy for Nora, knowing that this news was going to hurt. But, there wasn't really anything that I could do about it. So, I shrugged, accepting the answer for what it was even if I didn't entirely agree with it. Because I could also see where Shaun was coming from. If one of my parents turned out to not actually be my parent, and my real mom or dad was out there, looking for me… I wouldn't stop being who I was for them either.

“I'm going to pop upstairs to deliver the news. Rumi, would ya’ keep an eye on them to make sure they don't do anything weird to Curie?” I questioned and Rumi scowled.

“Don't order me around, jackass,” She grumbled, crossing her arms.

“But you will?” I prompted with a cocked eyebrow.

She made a dismissive gesture while turning her attention to Shaun. “Yeah, fine. Only because it's Curie and not because you asked.”

Swallowing a snort of amusement, knowing that it would just set her off, I nodded my thanks. A second later, the lab and the sterile air of the Institute vanished. And almost immediately, I knew to lean my head to the side before I even heard the gunshot or the bullet whizzing by my ear.

Blinking, I saw Nora's expression twisted into a snarl. “What the fuck did I do?” I blurted, caught a little off guard by the sudden change in demeanor. Yoruichi and Taylor were off to the side, and I realized with my arrival, there was a sudden standoff. I hadn't heard the argument that led up to this little standoff -- we were too far underground. But, I think I had an inkling when I saw betrayal shining in Nora's eyes.

“You work with Nuka-World!” Nora accused and I was proven right.

I offered a lopsided smile, “Actually, I run it. Well, for the most part. I'm the Overboss and I have a couple underbosses that do their own thing. I'm not big on micromanagement.” I confirmed casually, idly noting that Taylor was taking an aggressive posture with her insects. At Nora and Preston, who had his laser musket trained on Yoruichi, rather than at me. Thank fuck I left Rumi downstairs. Did not need her to tip the scales here.

Nora worked her jaw, her eyes narrowed into slits, “You know who we are. We told you what we're going to do,” she seemed to realize and I nodded. “You didn't kill us. Why? You could have dropped us from the top of a building as soon as you met us. Why didn't you?”

To that, I scratched my cheek, idly noting that I needed to shave. I glanced away from Nora, looking over at the ruined college, giving the question some genuine thought.

“Because I didn't need to and I didn't want to,” I offered. I could tell that didn't register with Nora but it was Preston that spoke.

“What does that even mean? Why are you doing this? I thought you were a decent guy, but… the stories I've heard about your slavers…” he offered and to that, I sighed.

“The slavery is all Cinder. She’s… kinda really fucked up in the head- and that's coming from me,” I stressed. “But the reason why I'm allowing it at all is because we don't have much of a choice. I took over the raiders at Nuka-World to help pave the way for refugees.” I explained, tilting my head at the surprised and confused expressions I got back. And not just from Nora and Preston. Taylor and even Yoruichi seemed surprised, though the latter to a much lesser degree. “Long story short -- we’re from another universe not that different from this one. Actually, we have a little too much in common, because our universe also blew itself up with nukes, except pretty recently instead of a couple centuries ago.”

Preston was shaking his head, but Nora zeroed in on me. “You aren't bullshitting me.” It wasn't a question.

“Don't need to. Things on the other side of the portal are pretty shit. Six million people on Manhattan Island when it could barely support two million when it wasn't fucked beyond all belief,” I said, frowning as I felt a pang of guilt. “We're trying to evacuate from that world into this one, preparing it so we can reach a happy middle ground. But that's easier said than done. Nuka-World is already over capacity, we're at our food production limit, and we haven't even evacuated a million people yet. If Cinder wasn't doing what she was doing…”

The greater good. I never really gave a fuck about the greater good. Mostly because my dream had been to be the greater evil in the world.

And I had been. I sure as hell didn't push any buttons, but I could accept my share of the blame for the world ending. I'd call it a good thirty percent of the blame was reserved for me -- Homelander had another thirty percent while the rest belonged to the idiots in charge that decided that lobbing nukes at each other was the smart thing to do after Homelander got nuked in Germany.

It never really bothered me. I didn't particularly care about humanity. I couldn't even muster up a single tear for the millions- billions that were dead. But, it didn't sit right with me either, I was coming to realize.

I had made a mess. And as the last man standing in that little apocalypse, it fell to me to clean it up.

Nora slowly lowered her gun, an expression of understanding appearing on her face. And of horror. “What are you going to do, Law?” She half gasped and half growled at me.

“I'm not sure if it's happened yet, but there is going to be a cascading effect in the Old World. Too many people, not enough resources, with a nuclear winter on the way,” I said, holding her gaze. It felt important that she understood this. “Asami, the girl in charge of things on the other side, is a good person. Honestly, she's probably one of the best people I've ever met, but that bleeding heart of hers turned a bad situation into something that's completely unmanageable.”

There had been a way to avoid this right at the very start. Blow the bridges. Maintain the perimeter. Accept those that were useful and turn away everyone who wasn't. It'd be the same as killing them, but we could manage it. We could sustain a population of two million. We had the food reserves looted from supermarkets and groceries stores. We had a trickle of food coming from the New World. But, Asami allowed everyone in, however staggered.

So instead of two million hungry people, we had six million starving.

“It's not her fault. Not really. But, the thing about civilization is that it only exists when people feel like they can be civil. Miss enough meals, get cold enough -- and see that some sorry bastard has more than you… it doesn't matter how noble her intentions are. How much she's trying to help them. They'll see what they don't have, and they'll hate her. They'll lash out, worsening their own situation and they'll blame her for that too. Because that's what people do.” Even if she had asked for the job, I still felt bad for leaving her with it. She had so much hope and optimism about the situation.

Asami thought she was being realistic, but the fact of the matter was she was being blindly optimistic and calling it realism.

Nora knew where I was going with this even as she pretended not to, “Law. What are you going to do?”

“Same thing that always happens when a population gets too big and there are greener pastures elsewhere,” I answered simply. An invasion.

Preston made a noise of disgust, “And the people living there?” He asked, knowing exactly what would happen.

“Historically speaking, it's never gone well for the natives when colonists knock at their front door,” I answered flatly. “It's not much of a reassurance, but we're not going to pull an Andrew Jackson on anyone. We'll invade and make room for ourselves -- in exchange, you get to tap into our resources. Fertilizers, industrial amounts of chemicals to make chems and medicine, and you fall under our protective umbrella.” I said the words, but I knew it was pointless.

You couldn't make a sales pitch for being invaded and living under someone's boot sound enticing.

“And we just have to put up with slavery and the dead,” Preston growled.

I shrugged, “Yeah, probably.” I admitted it easily enough. This world had been in a post-apocalyptic state for two hundred years. A certain mentality was ingrained into the people that managed to eke out a living here. It didn't matter what we said or did -- these people would not accept their populations swelling three, four, five, even six times what they had before. They wouldn’t accept answering to someone when they never had to before.

To live in this world, you had to be a survivor. The people of my world, the Old World, weren't cut out for this world. That's why we had to put up safety nets and cushion every sharp angle in the house before they moved in.

Nora watched me carefully, “Why are you telling us this?” She asked, cutting right to the heart of the matter.

“One of two things will happen -- you'll accept what's going to happen and probably join up to help mitigate the damage.” Preston scoffed and I offered a wane smile, agreeing with him. “Or, you organize a resistance. You take the fight to us. We fight, and then you die, and then there's more room for us.”

Nora clenched her jaw, “You sound certain that you'll win.”

“Because we will. Even if you kill ten for every one we kill of yours, we'll still win. There's… what, a hundred thousand people in the Commonwealth? Two hundred thousand? Three? Against six million? Even if you all united in time to fight us, we'd still beat you out with sheer numbers.” I stated before pausing, “But it won't come to that. We have people with superpowers, like me and Taylor. We're more organized. More desperate. And… we have a significant tech advantage.”

I could tell that Nora's mind had jumped to the right conclusion and I inclined my head to her, confirming it. A small disbelieving laugh escaped her that was followed by a bitter chuckle. “Shaun is working with you. With raiders and new age colonist invaders and fucking slavers...”

Her finger tapped on her gun, and I could see the pain in her eyes. I did feel bad for breaking that bit of bad news. Nora struck me as a good mom. A good person, even. I generally didn't mind being a terrible thing that happened to good people, but this felt different. More personal. And I liked Nora. “Preston? How are you feeling about his offer?”

“Not a chance, General,” Preston answered without hesitation.

Nora nodded in agreement, “Me neither. Are you going to stop us if we go?” She asked, her finger curling around the trigger once more.

I raised a hand up in a shooing gesture, “Nah. Go on and get out of here.” I dismissed, and Preston backed away slowly, keeping his laser rifle on Taylor and me. Nora held my gaze for a long minute before backing off.

“Be seeing you, Law.” She offered, not turning her back to me.

“See you later, Nora.”