Fallout 4: AR

57. Lessons in Ethics

Shrugging fatalistically, I shuffled along the steel walkway. "It was a bit more complicated than that. But it could have easily ended very, very badly. Next time, try to provide a couple of different options, hmm?"

Walking into the meeting room was almost as nerve-wracking as the embarrassing walk to the vertibird. I hoped my bandaged and slippered feet went unnoticed, the jury-rigged footwear detracting from what little authority I might have had. Fortunately, a hefty table had been placed in the center of the room, surrounded by a ring of chairs, mostly unoccupied. I spied MacCready almost immediately and as soon as our eyes met, I felt the tension drain from my body. He's here; everything's going to be okay. Mac appeared to feel the same way, taking a deep breath and flashing me a very brief relieved look centered mostly in his deep blue eyes. I marched determinedly over to take the chair next to his, while Paladin Danse sat next to Maxson opposite us. Once seated, MacCready's hand found mine and we laced our fingers together under the table, taking comfort from each other. Elder Maxson was seated at the head of the table, thoughtfully tapping his fingers on an empty shot glass. I pinned him with a steady stare, waiting for him to speak.

He met my gaze with an uncompromising expression. "Since you're prior military, I know you are aware of the need for operational security." When I nodded, still unsmiling, he continued. "I do not apologize for the caution in our methods. I will, however, accept that this ordeal was less than pleasant for you. I thank you for your patience and, more importantly, for the intelligence you have brought to our attention." He gestured to the disk file on the table. "You have proven time and again to be a valuable asset to our organization, and I personally promise the Brotherhood's full cooperation and assistance in your pursuit."

Breaking the eye contact that had been starting to get uncomfortable, he turned his attention back to Danse. "Now, back to the subject at hand. The moment the information contained in this file came to light, the Brotherhood's mission became abundantly clear. The Institute and everyone responsible for the creation of the synths must be eliminated, at all costs. To accomplish this goal, we need to locate the Institute's headquarters. Now that we know they're underground, I'm going to order our scribes to start searching the Commonwealth for their precise location and physical access. It could be through the sewers, the transit tunnels or maybe an old vault. The Institute has managed to keep itself hidden for a number of years, but it's only a matter of time before we find them. Our historical records indicate that the Institute was born from the remnants of a pre-war educational facility, the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. I recommend focusing our efforts there."

Danse nodded, making a note on a handheld device.

"Elder Maxson?" I cleared my throat tentatively, "What do you plan to do when you find the Institute? I mean, like you said, it's only a matter of time before you discover their exact location."

His answer was steely with suppressed rage. "Wipe them, and all of the abominations they've created... those anathema they call 'Synths'... off the face of the Earth."

"Wait, all of them?" I was shocked.

"Every last one. The concept of a machine possessing 'free will' is abhorrent. I will not stand idly by to let them roam the Wasteland, a danger to everyone." The color rose in his face, difficult to spot beneath the neat beard, but the emotion was there.

"What about the Synths who've escaped? They just want to live their lives in peace. Hell, some of them have even helped me try to find a way home!" Anger burned away the trepidation I had originally felt towards Maxson. He was being completely unreasonable, advocating for what was essentially genocide. "What about innocents in the Institute? If they've been hiding away for all these years, they would have to have procreated." MacCready's fingers squeezed mine. "Would you kill children?" My ire was up, and I was warming to my tirade.