Jacob Burns and the Order of the Algorithm #Wattys2017

Chapter 6: Lost in the Outfield

In the end, the Institute was no different than Vault-Tec or any other Pre-War company that had left the world in ruins, and it was only a matter of time before they all condemned us to the same fate in the fire.

At last, we arrived at the main gate where a guard stood with clipboard in hand. The man was built like a brick wall with a face to match, and like all Diamond City security, he was wearing a Pre-War baseball uniform and helmet, with umpire pads that just barely stretched over his wide frame. As the man looked over his paperwork, his brow wrinkled in confusion, it was like watching an ape trying to read.

Perfect, I thought, just the kind of meathead I was hoping for. And with that, I signaled to Ilya to follow my lead.

"Hello there, fella!" I said with my best northern accent, and the man looked up from his papers with an annoyed glare.

"Pardon me sir, but we are envoys from Far Harbor, sent here to negotiate a trade route with you and your fine city. We've come all this way to visit with your local market to see what our settlements have to offer each other, but we only got off the boat yesterday and have been walking ever since. My associate and I are very tired and were hoping to get a room before making our rounds. I'm sure a well-traveled man like yourself would understand..." I added with a winning smile.

The man looked us up and down, but to my surprise, said nothing as he folded his arms across his massive chest.

"Er, well," I continued as I fumbled with the suitcase I'd brought along, "We, uh, have an assortment of sample merchandise to showcase, and full authority to finalize agreements so there'll be no delay, but my superiors are very eager to hear back from me, so if you'd kindly let us in..."

"Youse gots an appointment, there fella?" The man said gruffly.

"Well... no, " I replied, a little taken aback, "Like I said, my associate and I just got off the boat from Far Harbor and we're here to negotiate a trade route-" The guard held up his hand and stopped me right there.

"Gimme a break," he said as he rolled his eyes, "Do youse gots any idea how many "envoys", "ambassadahs", and so-called "Kings of the Wasteland" I sees on a daily basis? Everyone wants inside this here wall, and I've heards just about every story in the book, but that hasta be one of the lamest ones I've heards yet. Ain't no's ways youse two are from that fah north. For one, this little philly here would freeze her pretty little ass off, and you? You look about as much like a fisherman as a dead mole rat."

"How's this sound, bub?" The man said with a smarmy smile, "I'll just go ahead and adds your names to this here list, and we'll get ya's in. Let's see... Oh, would ya lookee here! We gots an opening coming up in... about three months to never. How's ten o' clock work for ya?" And with that, the man's booming laughter chased us all the way back into the crowds.

As I hid my face from the jeering onlookers, I felt my blood begin to boil. Who the hell did that prick think he was, anyway? The last time I'd visited the Diamond, all it took was one good deal to waft under their greedy noses and they'd throw out the red carpet for just about anyone. We needed to regroup and figure out something else, preferably without calling so much attention to myself this time. The last thing I needed was to get recognized out here, the Citadel itself had set the bounty on my head and Outfield was full of mercenaries just itching for the chance to cash in.