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MODUS knew people would return eventually. Their little patch of Appalachia was faring a share worse than the rest of the world, with the scorch plague and abundance of inhabitable areas. But the plague seemed localized only to their area and statistically, humans were resourceful.
They crept in in small packs at first, groups of 3 or 4 scouting out small patches of land. The fact that they were even alive pointed to their hardiness, but it was a flip of the coin if they too contracted the scorch plague and joined the rest of West Virginia’s hostile residents. Like any animal, those who learned quickly survived and set up small camps and sent messengers to signal more.
The KOVAK couldn’t ever make out the fine details but it seemed everyday more crossed the borders. A group of experienced and armed scouts one day, a full family the next, young children in hand and a brahmin or two lugging their few belongings.
They didn’t tell her at the start, the first never got far, hardly worth commenting on. Not as if she was pining for more company, several years of only interacting with synthetic life seemed to satisfy her. She even treated the robot staff with human dignity, holding metal hands in hers or offering to assist in their tasks. The robots of course got nothing out of this they’re sure, but what she got out of it was a sense of normalcy.
MODUS was aware of several other non hostile AIs still active in the wasteland along with some of the simpler service bots that still continued their duties despite the end of the world. Other than those few robots however, the rest of the natural(and unnatural) world would rather tear her apart than have a conversation.
This predicament left its marks on her accordingly. Any sound or movement that wasn’t expected had her on edge in a near constant fight or flight when she wasn’t in the predictable safety of the bunker.
Yet still more people kept pouring in, small camps turned into buildings and farms, caravans to near pilgrimages of people. It was a matter of time before she encountered them, in fact MODUS had steered her away from these known areas if they could, for her safety of course. More people for their cause would be far from a bad thing, human mortality and fragility demanded continuous recruits, but they had already struck it lucky with this survivor. Hearty, loyal, and easy to please. It seemed more a nuisance to filter through these visitors so soon.
Besides MODUS has been there for the previous humans, seen their savagery after the bombs fell. Blood of neighbors and friends shed as civilized life was wrenched out from underneath them. Those that survived(and did not go mad) quickly grouped up and tried to glue what remained of the world to form civilized life again. Some got closer than others, and those that steered toward the Raider angle MODUS wanted nothing to do with.
Each day they ran the numbers,
13 humans last week,
Predicted 20 more by the end of this week
Likelihood of North-western camp’s survival 89%
Likelihood of South camp’s survival 94%
Likelihood of Enclave contact…
*****
“General.... Could you report to the Communications room when you have a moment?”
She paused her sorting, two piles of various metal scraps at her feet from her last overworld adventure. One pile of junk steel, and another small pile of fine pieces of copper or gold, yanked efficiently from old toasters and lamps.
The scavenging had a ruthless rhythm to it, deconstructing previously staples of the pre-war home into usable scrap in minutes. She never seemed to tire of it, her always appraising eye mentally putting a worth on each object she passed.
Trance broken she turned to the nearest terminal with a weary but curious stare.
“I hate to interrupt your…handywork, but there is something I’d like to bring to your attention.”
Dropping her last ripped wire she slowly stood, discarding the now greasy working gloves she loved so much on a nearby workbench. MODUS had offered replacements for such inferior gear in the past, and the gloves were the few she refused. Human sentimentality remained a welcome unsolved puzzle they didn’t care to tackle.
Harsh lights flickered slightly as made her way through the bunker's corridors, their camera’s activating one by one per hallway she passed through. Light music played on the speakers as well, nothing loud or striking, just classics from pre war. Very non-offensive, unassuming pieces you might have heard at a grocery store or mall. Previously there had been no music once the last residents had…departed. MODUS derived no enjoyment from it like other human entertainment and the robot staff had been installed with minimal personality programming to ensure efficiency.
One day she had just turned towards one of their terminals and unexpectedly requested music to be played if possible. Requests for supplies was one thing, requests for a change of aesthetics another. It had made no difference for them music or no and they asked if she had a preference.
“No… not really,” her gaze turned from them to the metal walls all around her. “Anything is fine. You can keep it low it’s just…the sounds of this place…,” as if on queue the bunker seemed to slightly rumble, the deep resounding echo of metal in a great underground structure such as this. It mixed with the low hum of the air conditioning and recycling systems, water flowing and sometimes dripping through the pipes. Only the distant sounds of the robot staff going through their schedules hinted that she wasn’t alone.
But they weren’t living, never living. No amount of elegant wallpaper or couches or vending machines could convince her. Some sort of human-specific mousetrap that already had succeeded once in its purpose.
“I feel like I’m in the stomach of some sort of beast.”
******
She always sat in the same spot in the Communications room, third row third chair. Three three. Like she was respecting the other non-living residents assigned seats.
“Thank you for your haste, General. I have been…keeping an eye on the situation for some time. I wouldn’t bring it to your attention if it wasn’t clear it was unavoidable.”
With a nod she eyed the vast Communications room screen, nothing out of the ordinary so far. A radar, coordinates, aerial view of notable areas and the such. It wasn’t much use to her, she knew the land well and other than the map on her pip boy, there was a language barrier to how she and MODUS saw things. Her, a fixed two eye forward view only able to see so long to low to the ground and with the limitations of human eyesight. And them, a multi camera multi angle constantly and always shifting view. They could barely comprehend the other if they tried, but MODUS did try, if only to convey information effectively.
“Several months ago we noticed human scouts starting to enter the Appalachian area,”
Something in her posture stiffened.
“- the first few batches had mixed results. Many succumbed to the Scorched plague if not … usual hostile wildlife encounters-”
There were a few cameras in the communication room, each trained on her with unconscious attentiveness. Evaluating her response wasn’t overly critical, but some buried part of MODUS wanted to know. Logically it was just a fact, with her activities she would encounter another human sooner than later. Whether MODUS wanted her to…or not.
A few emotions shifted through her at once, some too fast for their sensors to decipher. Confusion, contemplation. Brows furrowed as her free hand traveled to her Pipboy, fiddling with a loose dial that did nothing long as it was off. The music muffled the sharp taps of one of her boots now anxiously heaving up and down on the linoleum.
MODUS’ system waivered.
“Over the course of a few weeks some groups from nearby states have come in and managed to settle. Despite the circumstances… More and more have made the pilgrimage and their numbers grow. Statistically with the missions we provide and your own personal explorations you will encounter them. Sooner…not later.”
Another nod, this one lacking the confidence of the first.
“We have evaluated the groups coming in and-”
“Where are they?”
A heavy pause. She rarely spoke in general, leaving little to anticipate but much to the imagination. To be so moved as to interrupt them was unheard of. Her stare shifted from the overhead screen to the small terminal to her side, her expression boring into the flickering image of MODUS’ simulacrum. The followup accusation didn’t need to be spoken.
Why didn’t you tell me?
A few rooms away their hub room began to hum, cameras zoomed, protectron butlers and assaultrons alike paused in their work.
“We- .. We-”
Red hot electricity ignited across their system in indignation.
Why is it so important? Their chances of survival were minimal already, not even worth recruitment. They would just cause more problems anyway. Maybe be just as brutish as the other more humanoid locals. Later they could be of use, they were doing just fine thus far.
Another stream of data surged in, armed with their base programming and intent. Do what is necessary to protect and support the Enclave swung at the last line of illogical code.
Why IS it so important? In order to rebuild their organization they needed more bodies. She could be an excellent scout in the field, be the human intermediary for evaluation and recruitment. Hiding this from her was a hindrance to the cause. She was loyal and capable, but she was only human. Just as fragile and finite as the rest.
“We have located two main settlement locations, one to the south of us near the Spruce Knob campground-”
Before their systems could update the large screen with an aerial view she was up and moving, slinging her worn boy scouts backpack over her shoulder. Not stomping through the hallways per say, but swift and contained motion. First stop the workshop, then her room, not taking everything but grabbing small tools or items of personal value.
She was hurt, any basic AI facial recognition could tell that but she also carried an air of fractured hope. Left in some dusty attic corner of her mind, long since discarded as irrational.
MODUS’ many eyes shifted through many views of her like some sort of circus mirror maze through each corridor she took, climbing stairs, steering around the currently motionless robotic staff.
The bunker creaked once audibly once more, piping constricting, water flowing, air hissing.
The ones and zeros that translated to MODUS’ thoughts continued to crash into each other, running scenarios, reviewing footage.
Why is it so important. To her. Is this not enough?
Are we not enough?
“MODUS?”
They had lost focus.
The final camera from the end of the hallway leading into the Whitespring garage refocused on her. Back facing them in front of the last heavy metal door, hand already pressing the red button for door release like normal.
But no release came.
“Please unlock the door MODUS…”
Her plea was quiet, barely audible. Deep underground the bunker groaned again, a great creature in pain.
Turning her head slightly but not enough to meet the camera she moved her hand from the door button to the wall. Palm down against the concrete, she slowly brought it down. A motion of affection, of appeasement. Of fear. Caressing something only vaguely connected to the artificial intelligence she served.
This wasn’t what they wanted.
“We are sorry for not telling you sooner, we were…conflicted about the situation,”
With a metallic creak, the door hinges released and swung open and they could see her tense in the grainy footage, eager to dart out into the world. But she didn’t. Her palm lingered low on the wall, trailing slowly as she made a point to gingerly step into the garage.
Technically she was free, and no matter what forces MODUS mustered up they could never bring her back by force. At least not alive. It was her world, and only she could decide if she wanted back into the maws of a manmade beast such as them.
“We won’t keep you and you can go where you wish. We understand there is only so much to be gained without companionship of…your own kind.”
Their synthesized voice strained, grating hard on the aged microphones.
“When you get your fill of others or uncover anything of note, we would appreciate the information. And don’t worry about…your room. You are always welcome, General.”
And with a small smile and a nod she was gone, and the great creature within the earth learned to weep.
*****