Of the Waters of Life

[Kawamura]

James' first feeling upon returning to the living was a tightening in the muscles of his stomach and sides. He barely noted the gloved hands that helped guide him to the ringed bag as he heaved nasty, sour yellow. A final cough that shook his whole frame, and he curled back, having barely lifted his head from the pillow. The cloth was cool, though he could feel the material was damp under his ear. He cleared his throat, trying to dislodge the remaining bile while there was the sound of a bag being tied up and thrown away, a beep, and a crisp, feminine voice saying, "Colonel, he's been awakened as you ordered." James shivered, trying to relax his muscles as his body tightened. So this was hell, eh? He'd never been a particularly religious man, but he was dead, wasn't he? He knew how much radiation he'd loosed into the room, had set the levels himself. Death was surprisingly normal.

Not religious, but certainly scientific. Hell, he imagined, lacked barf bags, so there had to be a simpler (and more living) explanation. It didn't seem that the woman cared what he did at the moment, though she knew he was awake, so he could just close his eyes and attempt to go back to sleep. Memories, after all, were so very jumbled when one was sick. Maybe all that before, with the memorial, and the soldier, and his baby girl screaming, maybe that was all simply a fevered dream.

James managed to open one eye as he sucked in a shaky breath between his teeth. It was bright. White, so very white, and James couldn't remember where he had seen a color so pure before. Sterile, he imagined, probably more so than any place he had worked in outside of the Vault, and even that suffered from rust. Rust didnâ??t look like it survived here, not with this pure white. Another breath, not so deep because he simply couldn't unclench his muscles as he shivered. He could barely see details, but there was movement. "I'm going to give you an injection now. If you would try to relax." She sounded irritated by his inability, and James found the whole thing hilarious. Here he was, not dead, and a woman was angry at him for having the nerve to suffer the effects of acute radiation poisoning.

Maybe it was hell.

"Do you treat all your patients like this?" he slurred, voice hoarse, as she stabbed him with the needle. He would bruise, he thought, but, then again, with rads like that heâ??d bruise no matter what. The scientist tried to watch as she moved away, but his eyes refused to focus correctly. His nurse or doctor was a white blur to him, with another blur on the top for what he assumed was hair. "May I have some water?" His throat burned, and God, was he thirsty, but she pretended not to hear him. "Where am I?" Again no response. James wondered if he had even spoken. She must have given him something for the pain and for the muscles contractions, or perhaps something just to make him sleep, because the next he knew, he woke to a much cooler pillow and a slow drawl.

"Well." James mentally scrambled, trying to place that accent. He had heard it before, hadn't he? "It looks as if the good doctor is awake. Carlson, would you get him another IV started. I'd like to startâ?¦ talkinâ?? soon." Autumn? But the man, the man should be dead. Like himself. This time, he didn't even open his eyes. "We know you're awake, Mr. Project Purity. Unlike the conditions you're used to working in, we actually can monitor our patients."

Voices continued in the dark around him. â??Heâ??s a very sick man, Colonel.â? That was the woman from earlier, her voice just as crisp and cool above the tapping of fingers against an IV bag. â??Weâ??ve just managed to get his temperature down to 41 in the last hour. Youâ??re only going to have a few minutes to speak with him.â? Jamese chanced opening his eyes. His sight was a little more sure this time, though he still found the woman (Carlson, Autumn had said) hard to focus on. Dehydration, perhaps? Damage to the lenses from the radiation? How long had he been in that irradiated room? The scientist ignored Autumn for the moment, watching the woman work. The way the saline solution scattered the harsh light above situated in the ceiling as she hung the bag was extraordinary.

Wait. Down to 41? No wonder he was a bit loopy; the damned fever had nearly scrambled his brains like so many reconstituted chicken eggs. Already, he could feel sleep blackening the edge of his vision, and when he turned his head on his clammy pillow (so his temperature must have been jumping up and down), he swore he must have nodded off in between looking at the womanâ??s skilled hands and the colonel.

James wondered, for a moment, how he must look. He was never a large man, very few Wastelanders were, and in his time out of the Vault, he had rarely the chance to eat anything more than a few scavenged bits here and there. And alcohol, of course. The doctor in him knew how bad a liquid lunch was, but there had been so little time, and so much to doâ?¦ He had lost weight and would probably continue to in the Enclave's hands. At least weight was the only thing he had lost. He could feel the way his hair, nearly all grey from age and stress, clung to his damp skin. Somehow, the thought of being bald would only add insult to injury.

â??Now, Doctor.â? James didnâ??t even turn his head towards the source of the voice. â??I know youâ??re enjoyinâ?? our hospitality and all.â? The colonel managed to make â??hospitalityâ?? sound like a foul word that had just managed to fall on his tongue and leave a bitter taste as he spat it out. â??But I got a few questions for you. I need that code. Right here and now. You give it, and maybe you see your girl again. Maybe Iâ??ll have Nurse Carlson here up your anti-rad meds.â? An order masked as a deal and Autumn was certainly the sort that was used to having others listen to him. James could see that in every bleary line of the man, the way he held himself with just a touch of relaxation to the military posture, the way he managed stern tones in such a non-threatening accent. Bright green eyes, the only color in a face that had taken on a shade something like old mattresses, met the Colonel's sweeping gaze serenely. So Margo was free -- oh, thank God, the relief he felt at that statement rushed through him from head to toe like the pain-killer his nurse had given him once when he had woken before he should have.

"Colonel," he croaked. "As I have already told you, the project is to give clean water to everyone." James took that moment to swallow reflexively, though his throat was as dry as if someone had stuffed cotton down it. "Including your men. I don't see why the Enclave would want control of such an experiment. And in any case, it doesn't work. I've also told you that already." Margo was free, and they still didn't know about the GECK. Even without him, Madison, Madison could finish it. She or Margo would have his notes, would know what was needed. And they could wait, or get help from the Brotherhood now that they knew what that final missing piece was.

"You found the problem." Autumn was a persistent man, wasn't he? James closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he felt his muscles begin to relax again. â??No man revives a project after twentyâ??"

"My child was an adult and I was more useful out here than in the Vault," James interrupted. "And twenty years to gnaw atâ?¦ at the same problem isâ?¦" What was he saying? Suddenly, the conversation seemed so very unimportant and his thoughts scattered away from him like children set free to play. Perhaps he imagined the growled 'bastard' or dreamed the various figures in his room as he slept. Another nurse or doctor, with sterile grey eyes over a wide, white mask, looking into his face and speaking to him. More saline, the Colonel coming in and out, and always those crisp, white lights and uniforms of the staff.

When James woke up, really woke up, again, there was no one. No nurse nor doctor, no Enclave men demanding information, no one. Wary, the scientist sat up, noting the lack of muscle cramps that he would expect from severe dehydration. So they had been taking care of him. He swung surprisingly steady legs down and edged himself to the side of the bed. The floor was tepid under his bare feet. Not metal, then, though it certainly looked like it. James reached for his IV drip stand, dragging it along with him as he explored the room. The space was bare and wide enough to through the sound of his stand back at him as he inspected the corners and checked the handles of the lockers (that, of course, wouldn't give). Nothing. They'd probably locked it all away. They'd left him with in an over-sized (or perhaps one size fits all) set of scrub-like clothes, off-white and shapeless.

 

[Canvasofwhite]

"Good morning, Thomas."

"Yes, Good morning, uhh... Jordan." The man named Jordan nodded his head and continued his way down the hall, unaware of "Thomas" as he slipped pass the other side of the hallway and into another one which led to the main hallway.

Of course, Thomas wasn't named 'Thomas'. His name was actually Alex, Thomas must have been the name of the poor sap that Trent had beat up and stolen his uniform back a couple of days ago when he first arrived to this place. When Alex infiltrated the base wearing the Enclave officer uniform, he never really thought that he would be caught into this identity of 'Thomas'. When Alex first accepted this mission, he was informed that the base was only enforced by minimal forces. It was unfortunate that such intelligence was inaccurate, as he firmly believed that this placed might as well have been a fortress to get into. It was a miracle in itself that he hadn't been caught yet.

For the last two days he was stuck in the Enclave base under a false alias. And all this time, he spent it understanding the very layout of the base, which of course, was much larger than Alex had originally anticipated. Even places like the bathroom and the cafeteria were still a loss for him, as he usually had to accompany with another to find them. Even though Alex thoroughly hated the Enclave and everything that it supposedly stood for, he had to admit that even he was impressed how pristine the base was in comparison to the Wasteland. Take the place, and minus the enclave, and it would be almost like the vault where Alex was originally from, except more grim and dark.

However, this wasn't the time to glorify on what the Enclaves had. Alex had work to do. After entering the main hallway, he turned right into one of the many security rooms. The layout wasn't the only thing that Alex looked for, he also kept and eye on people's schedules, and even the pipelines and the number of rooms that the base had. After twenty-five years of life, he had learned that even the number of steps on the stairs could be vital information during an espionage mission. Alex slipped into the room, knowing it'll be empty for the next ten minutes as the guard would go for a drink before attending to his duty. Before doing anything, Alex walked up to the keyboard, and immediatly started to type at the computer to access the security mainframe. Hacking the computer with the password 'Veronica', Alex slipped in a special CD into the disk reader which would just repeat video feed into the most essential places which Alex knew he had to go to obtain his objective and even his escape.

After that was done, Alex went into one of the corners of the room, where a metal footlocker was placed conveniently over one of the vent grates after his arrival. Just enough for a man to crouch down and move through the ventilation system. It was fortunate that Thomas' suit was rather big, so that the sleeves hid Alex's pip-boy from view as long as he didn't make it suspicious. Pulling up the sleeve on his left arm, he clicked his pip-boy on to check the time before he moved the foot locker and opened the ventilation shaft. He ducked down into the metal lines, and made sure to place back the grate at the very least to cover his tracks. Alex moved just down the shaft and along the way, he picked up a bag that was waiting for him at the tri-point. Inside was a set of clothes that were better tailored to his size, and was black in color. Perfect for espionage. There was also a blue ski-mask to cover his mouth, and a beanie to cover his hair. After all, what as a spy if you can be identified easily. Along with the bag came with a couple of pulse grenades, a laser pistol, and enough batteries to give him a good number of shots, just in case he would be under suppressed fire. Alex prefered smaller guns, but laser weapons will do for now since that's all he could find.

After only a minute or two to change, Alex was ready to move out. He followed the ventilation shaft down a myriad of turns, several drop offs to another level, all the while moving swiftly and quietly. However, Alex was lost after he reached a certain point. He couldn't map anymore of the place without security clearance, so now he was left to figure everything else out from here. However, upon hitting a dead-end, Alex was about to turn around when just outside one of the grates, he spotted a couple of people pass by the window. Alex squinted his eyes, and realized that it was him, Colonel Autumn. Alex heard of him many times, and all of his so-called accomplishments that resulted in people's death, as well as making Alex's blood boil. He just needed one shot to Autumn's head to make him satisfied. One shot, and it'll all be over for him, and the Wasteland will be free. However, The words that he spoke perked the young-man's interest. Something about a speical prisoner with a very much needed code.

Once Autumn had gone from view, Alex gently unlocked the vent gate, peering left and right to find the room empty except with one security guard who was looking over the prisoner cells. He slipped out of the shaft and into the room, quietly. The man appeared to be intent in his watching or was simply not really paying attention. In a swift coarse of action, Alex snuck behind him and struck at the base of the neck, hitting that conscience nerve that immediately knocked the guard out for the next couple of hours. Alex checked the computers, and went into the security system. He identified the prisoner room that held the speical guest. It was easy enough to unlock the security measures, including the camera, the electronic locker, and even the door. The door unlocked with a hiss, signaling it's unlocked state. Alex decided to pay the man a visit. If he knew something about a code, maybe it was something relevant to him. Thus, he slipped out of the room, and hid in the shadows as he stepped into the prisoner hallway.

There, of course were a couple of guards guarding the prisoner's door. Apparently, they heard not about the door being open. Hidden in the dark, Alex took his gun, and let off two shots. That was another thing he was glad to have an energy weapon for. They were much more silent than a ballistic weapon. Both marks struck true before the enclave soldiers could react, as the energy blasted through their uniforms and pierced their hearts, leaving Alex clear to enter the prisoner's room.