29th May 2282
14:35 MTZ
"…blocked by mountains or storms."
Mr. Entertainment gives me a
mildly offended look as we head towards the Choir's bunker. Once the Watonga Correctional Facility, the upper levels were mostly destroyed when their attempt to invade the Last Patrol's territory was beaten back. The outer parts of the bunker are new, defences built by the State of Oklahoma in order to protect the physically helpless Choristers and the medical staff who work here. They're studying the place to try and work out if there's some way to safely free them from the machinery they're attached to. I'd intended to offer my help once Caesar's Legion were dealt with, but, needs must.
"A lotta tribes have lost their pre-War knowledge, Mister Krono. Mine ain't one of them. I understand how radio waves work."
"Then I assume that you also know that pre-War America got around that problem using satellites in orbit."
"Yeah, we looked into it. But the only place we could get launch capacity is down in Houston, and their launch facilities aren't what they were before the War. And then we'd have to
build a satellite and get it safely into orbit… There's a lotta debris up there. The only
other way would be to get control of a satellite that's already
up there, and without a relay even
that would only get us broadcast capacity over a limited area." He raises his left eyebrow. "You're not building up to tell me that you've got a pre-War satellite network, are you?"
"No."
And I really
don't. Pre-War military bases advanced enough to hold that sort of data were thoroughly nuked by the Chinese, along with most launch sites and transmission centres. And while, yes, I
do have space-capable craft, most of those are engaged in providing air cover for the NCR forces in the Mojave and West Arizona. The capacity to build them doesn't mean I can easily ramp up production whenever it's convenient. Diana has a
few satellites, but they're not designed for mass broadcasts and… Our work together has rather distracted her from fixing the problem.
"But I
am in contact with people who have a giant alien starship which can do much the same job."
"A gi-." He stares at me for a moment, then shakes his head, chuckling. "H
oooo boy. Mister Krono, I'm gunna have to ask you not to gamble in my wife's casinos or take part in any of my quiz shows."
"I wasn't… Planning to
anyway, but given that you already knew that I'm
psychic, I'm puzzled why I'm getting banned
now."
"Because I looked you dead in the eye just then and I had no idea whether you were telling the truth or not. Anya can't afford to have someone cleaning out all her poker players."
"Now's probably not the time, but I'm happy to give you a tour if you want."
"A tour of an alien starship? Think I could bring along a film crew?"
"If the camera's waterproof, certainly. If not, I'll have to check with the residents."
The leader of our escort finishes showing his credentials to the gate guard and the heavy metal gates roll aside. We're not exactly close to Legion territory here, but there aren't any natural obstacles if Lanius chose to come this way.
"You wanna explain that?"
"Four years ago a small group of human prisoners broke free and captured the starship. But there was a second one there to back it up. The prisoners managed to seize the bridge and shoot the second mothership and it crashed in the Gulf of Mexico. My people tracked it down and we've been stripping it for parts ever since. Underwater."
I'd have preferred to repair it, but we just don't have the industrial capacity to produce the materials we'd need to do that. We've learned a lot taking it apart, so, maybe at some point in the future we can build our own?
I'll even give the bloody Hubologists one if that'll make them get lost…
"So while I'm perfectly happy to fly a documentary crew down to take a look at the wreck, if you want to see one in
operation you're going to need the permission of the residents."
"Are you going to pass on the message, or should I just-" He looks upwards. "-point our transmitter at the sky?"
"Either works."
We're waved through into the offices the Oklahomans have built on the surface, and Mr. Entertainment leads the way towards the fortified pre-war lift that leads into the facility proper. The Last Patrol never actually breached it during their war, they just flattened the external parts and killed the garrison. The war ended when the last of the Choir's soldiers were killed and they gave up and pled for mercy.
We step inside and the door clunks and scrapes closed behind us, the slow mechanism of the lift kicking into action a few moments later.
"
So just what is your game, Mister Krono?"
"I'd like a peaceful life where I'm free to study technology and help people repair the world." I shrug. "And if that means I become telepathic and biologically immortal, stronger and tougher than any normal man with the knowledge that pre-War scientists would give their right arm for, then so be it. I'm happy to fight the Legion not because the NCR is so wonderful, but because they're not going to destroy my Institute on principle. On its best day the NCR is three stars out of five, but that's still better than
one." I shrug. "The Troll Warrens and the Crimson Acolytes are gone. The Ammonites have lost their taste for war, the Eighties have been crushed and I don't much care whether Santa Anna beats Texas or not. Once the Legion is gone, I've achieved my primary international objectives."
"You don't care about Santa Anna?"
"Santa Anna's fixated on Texas because he's trying to do better than his organic namesake. He's not a threat to me or mine, and the worst thing he'll do to Texas if he wins is make them salute a different flag." I shrug. "I'll worry about China and
Russia before I'll worry about
him."
The lift door
slams open, revealing one of the facility's doctors. His badge says 'Dr. Saunooke', though I don't recognise him.
"Mister Entertainment! Good to see you again. And..
Krono."
He looks at me eagerly. "I understand that you're a psychic, too."
**That's true.**
"Ah." He blinks. "The Choir are usually less
direct than that."
I nod. I guessed from the name that they probably used something similar to the hypnotic telepathic music that made the Odious King so damnably effective.
**President Nguyen wishes for me to speak to the First Chorister. Apparently, Shale's disappearance isn't the godsend I've been assuming that it is.**
"Yes, she-" He turns away and leads us down a corridor. "-seemed unusually attentive today. You wouldn't know anything about an 'alien wanderer with rings of power', would you? She can be quite-"
I pull my necklace out, showing the two rings on it.
"-abstract in.. her-. Ah. Yes. Well." He walks faster, entering an access code in the keypad of a very secure looking door. "We
have access to the main… Quire, but most of our researchers find it disturbing to be in for any length of time. The system was designed to allow pre-War researchers to call out individual 'pods' to 'work on' Choristers individually while the robots handled the day to day upkeep."
The door unlocks, and he hauls it open.
"Now, you shouldn't necessarily expect an actual conversation. She's been-."
**I can hear you.**
The mental voice sounds like it's been… Gathering dust for two hundred years. Or is trying to work through a sore throat. Dr. Saunooke looks around in amazement as I get my first look at the
First Chorister.
She's wearing an orange jumpsuit, which at once binds her to the pod she's kept in and has all of the plugs it needs to handle her biological functions. There's a mask either for feeding or air but that's been pulled off her face, revealing a striking woman staring right at me, focusing on me with disturbing intensity.
I smile.
**And I you. You wished to speak to me?**
And then the images come.
