The Four Tools of the Father -- Part 1

Chapter 15, Tale Two: The Four Tools of the Father -- Part 1 pic and text

Father Elijah sat in the dark, the glow of his viewscreen lighting the crags of his face, and made ready for it all to begin. From his station, he could still see the Madre still and silent on the hill, overlooking the town like a dark idol. The clouds below, toxic, could not reach him, crawling along the ground like a living thing, death where they concentrated too thickly. A dangerous place, the Madre, but a legend. The treasure and power of the Old World, locked in the vaults below, if he could only find a way to break through. Frederick Sinclair had made the place well, so long ago, it was truly impregnable. He had been over every inch of the villa, slipping past the ghost people that were all that remained of life in this place, and he had discovered a great deal. The Gala Event was the key, the key to unlocking the gates and the doors, bringing the Madre back to life. It was to have been the Grand Opening, for the greatest Casino and landmark the west knew. But the bombs had fallen first, and the Gala had never occurred. Now it lay dormant, a sleeping power, and a death to the careless that wandered too close to its doors.

But so much power. He had seen evidence even out here. The cloud itself, for one thing. It was not natural, nor was it a product of the bombs. The Madre had created it somehow, an immense force for purification and destruction, if properly harnessed. The hologram soldiers, for another. Intangible, untouchable, but deadly, a single one placed properly could take down an army. And that was just in the villa alone. The secrets the Madre herself held must be even greater. The greatest treasure of the Old World lay in its chambers, all he had to do was find a way in. Then all that power would be his. Enough to have revenge on the Bear, enough to go back to the Brotherhood and retake his position as the Elder. Enough to make the Brotherhood the greatest force on this side of the world, an army of holographic men, the cloud of destruction before them, bringing death to all of their enemies. He would come back to them in power, and they would march forth to glory, bring back the glory of the Old World again.

The Gala Event was the key, and the Gala required four. Four people, it could not happen with any less. Three had already arrived, and been taken. The mutant, Dog, the most compliant, it had come and he had taken it, collaring it, and it did his bidding. The ghoul, Domino, had already been here when he had arrived, and he had feigned partnership with him for a time, before collaring him, as well. Then had come Royce, his shadow, as he knew that she would. She had tracked him for years, since his ousting from the Brotherhood after Helios One, through the Big Empty and then here, and he had let his new tools, the mutant and ghoul, capture her and collar her for him. She had disappeared in the interim, but had not fled or died, or the collars would have activated. He suspected the ghoul. The ghoul had a plan of his own. He had let the ghoul keep his plan to himself, seeing no need to pry it out. It would serve his purposes in the end, he was smarter than the ghoul, more clever. So he had three, plus himself, but he needed control, he could not act as one of the four. So he had waited, and sent out that signal, come to the Sierra Madre. It had already been present, he had just needed to activate it, and the ghoul had explained how it was done.

Now the fourth one had come, into his trap, following the rumor of riches. She was not the first, but had been the first to break through without dying, so she was clearly resourceful. He had let her come past the gates and then taken her, gassed her and then Dog had collared her too. Four now, four. It was time to begin.