Sector: Middle Grasslands
100 Years, 9 Months, 6 Days PSR
"Hit me."
Wick drew a card from the deck and slid it to Swiss face up. A jack of hearts.
"Shit, I'm over." He slapped his cards down in the dirt. "Your turn Revamp."
"I already told you, I'm busy," I said, refusing to look up from my work.
"We dealt you in," said Wick.
"I told you not to, didn't I?"
"You can't play blackjack with just two people."
"What are you talking about, you just did! Swiss lost."
"The hand isn't through yet. Pick up your cards and play," commanded Swiss teasingly.
I groaned. "If I play a hand, will you let me be?"
Wick and Swiss nodded eagerly. Cute double teaming bastards. I couldn't say no to those faces.
"Fine." I picked up the cards Wick had dealt me. "I'll stay."
"Me too," Wick replied.
I slapped down my cards. A ten of clubs and an ace of diamonds. "Twenty one."
"Damn it."
"Can I get back to work now?"
"One more hand."
I slipped my cards back into the deck. "Nope."
"But you won! You can't walk away from a streak!" complained Swiss.
"So? Not like we're playing for anything."
"We're playing for fun!" Wick grinned.
"Listen, I'll play with you tomorrow night, okay. I'm almost done with this."
"The radio thingy?" asked Swiss.
"Yeah, that. I've nearly got it."
"One more hand?" asked Wick, pouting her lips.
"Tomorrow."
Wick dropped the pout. "Fine. But don't think we won't hold you to it!"
"Trust me, I believe you," I said, returning to my pet project.
Laid out on a blanket in front of me (scrounged from one of the beds in the Lambda place) were the essential components of the transmitter I'd jacked from the Lambda security offices. The only recognizable part to the average observer was the microphone, still completely intact. The rest of it was broken down. Any useless or work-aroundable parts were scrapped. Things like antenna, channel dialers, and program chips could be replaced by the PipBuck. Channel dialers and antenna came with the built in radio, and I could just transfer the programs from the chips directly into the device.
All that was left was to pry open the casing on the PipBuck and install the parts. That was where I was when Swiss and Wick interrupted me for their blackjack. I sighed and got back to it.
Even with the screws taken out, the thing was still a bitch to open. It took much more force than I anticipated before the top popped off. I breathed out in relief and ceased my silent prayers that it wouldn't break. I looked inside and made a mental checklist of the work before me, noting additionally the extra chip slots. The radio chip wasn't compatible, but the ones I'd snagged from the Stable-Tec building would be. Never mind, that was a project for later.
First I'd need to cut a hole in the side of the PipBuck to make room for the microphone jack. They didn't have the same type of jack as my earblooms, so a new port was necessary. Next I'd install the components, check to make sure they fit, and weld them in. Once that was done, I'd sync the transmitter programs to the right machines. Then I'd test it, and if it worked, replace the top.
I'd tested my modified radio rig beforehand with some of the replaceable parts, and I'd gotten a signal on my PipBuck just fine. Hopefully this would remain true once the transmitter was hooked up to it.
The first roadblock I hit was cutting the hole. Seemingly simple at a glance, but tricky in practice. The hole needed to be small and accurate, which wouldn't have been a problem under normal circumstances. I was cutting the port hole with my horn, and what I was cutting was permanently attached to my wrist. My head was at an awkward angle, and I didn't trust myself not to screw up the cut or burn myself.
After a bit of creative thinking I heated up a piece of scrap metal with my horn and levitated it make the cut. It was slower, since I wasn't used to working that way and I constantly needed to reheat the metal, but after half an hour the hole was finished.
Next I welded the transmitter bits into the PipBuck, using the same technique. This required a lot more finesse, since I could easily muck up the equipment I'd spent the last two weeks building. I came close to burning the circuits a few times, but always caught myself before it could happen. The hard part was done.
I delved into the programming I'd copied from the chip to PipBuck, making the code effect the newly installed modifications. I took care of a lot of this beforehoof, so I whizzed through it. The moment of truth was upon us... well, me.
I plugged in my earblooms and the microphone. Tuned the transmitter and transceiver to the same empty channel. Flicked on the microphone.
"Testing, testing."
And less than a second later, in my ears, "Testing, testing."
"YES! OW!"
"YES! OW!"
I pulled out my earblooms. "Guys, listen to this!" I said, moving my head from the microphone.
They trotted over intrigued by my sudden enthusiasm.
"Just talk into it," I said, indicating the microphone.
Swiss tried it first. "Hello?"
"Hello?"
"That's awesome! Let me try!" Wick butted in front of Swiss. "I'm on the radioooooo...!"
"I'm on the radioooooo!"
"You sure we should be doing this?" asked Swiss, nervous. "I mean, we're basically broadcasting that we're here to anyone with a radio."
"Shit, I didn't think about that. Wick stop."
"Why?" she asked, looking up from the mike.
"Swiss has a good point. We should only use this to talk to people or call for help. Just blasting our voices over the airwaves is inviting trouble." I unplugged the microphone.
"Aww. Fine, I guess..."
"Sorry. I wanna play with it too, but it's too much of a risk."
"Yeah. Yeah, I get it." She sighed, then suddenly grinned. "Wanna play blackjack?"
I groaned, not really meaning it. "Sure."
Sector: Middle Grasslands
100 Years, 9 Months, 26 Days PSR
"Here's a classic, one Sweetie Belle's, performed by her great great etcetera granddaughter, Velvet Remedy."
A sweet somber voice took the place of its gravelly counterpart.
"On the edge of Everfree, a songbird sings.
Throughout the forest, its echo rings.
A song of peace, a song of war,
A song that shakes me to my core.
"A soldier reluctantly deals his lead;
A mother puts her foal to bed.
The soldier mows the coming horde;
The mother prays for peace restored.
The soldier cries in dread and fear;
The mother holds her child dear.
"On the edge of Everfree, a songbird sings.
Throughout the forest, its echo rings.
A song of peace, a song of war,
A song that shakes me to my core.
"A distant sound, approaching death;
Lovers kiss and hold their breath.
Growing din, flying debris;
The stallion asks on bended knee.
The world is bathed in red balefire;
They kiss again with new desire.
"On the edge of Everfree, a songbird sings.
Throughout the forest, its echo rings.
A song of peace, a song of war,
A song that shakes me to my core."
The song finished, and the voice of the announcer spoke again.
"That was Velvet Remedy's rendition of 'A Song of Peace and War', on Radioactive Radio with everyone's favorite host, Golden Mike. It may sound corny, but that one always hits close to home for me. And now, the news!
"You're definitely gonna wanna hear this, especially if you're a regular listener. We, uh, got a little problem here at Radioactive."
I stopped walking, curiosity peaked. I'd never heard a message like this on one of the broadcasts. It sounded like the beginning of a distress call, and I wanted all of my focus on it.
"Nothing life threatening, thank Celestia, but it's certainly a dilemma. I won't go into the specifics of the problem on air, but just know that it reduces our broadcasting radius by about 95%. If their happens to be an able mechanic in the area, their help would be most appreciated and well rewarded.
"Let me make this clear. If you're listening, this broadcast cannot reach outside of the grasslands. If you have any sort of repair skill, there will be generous compensation if you help us. We'll be opening our frequency tonight around eight o'clock, so that any interested parties can contact us then. Until eight, enjoy the radio as planned."
I plucked out my earblooms and raced to catch up with Swiss.
"Hey Swiss, you gotta hear about this!"
We were sitting around our campfire. Night was falling, the bright colors of sunset fading to inevitable black. We talked over our meal, radhog caught by Wick and stewed by Swiss.
"You think this Mike guy is trustworthy?" asked Wick.
"I've been listening to him since before Shackle," I answered. "He's never rubbed me the wrong way, but that doesn't necessarily mean anything."
"That's all I need to hear, Revamp. You stuck with me through the hard shit, risked your life to get me out it. If you trust him, go for it."
Swiss was less convinced. "I don't know. I like to meet people in person before judging them. I've heard his broadcasts, and he seems fine, but... I don't know, I can't get a read on him over the radio, I need to meet him in person. Until then, I guess I'll give him the benefit of the doubt."
"There is a reward," said Wick. "We're gonna need caps in the NCR."
"Hey, nothing wrong with being cautious," I reminded.
"So what are we waiting for? Is the thingy open yet?"
"The frequency? Let me see... it's 8:15, so yeah, it's been open for fifteen minutes."
"Well talk to him then!"
I pulled the microphone from my pack and plugged it in. I dialed my PipBuck's transmitter and transceiver to the Radioactive Station.
"Waiting... waiting..." The sound of tapping was in the background, like a pencil on a desk.
I flipped on the mike and cleared my throat. "Uh, Mister Golden Mike?" I heard voice repeated on the air.
"Ah-ha, we've got a live one, folks! Young, by the sound of him. What's your name son?"
I glanced over to my companions. Swiss was vigorously shaking his head.
"Uh, I'm not really comfortable with saying my name on the air."
"Well good to know you've got a brain in your head. Don't worry, you can tell me that stuff later. I got a little something something that'll let me block this transmission to parties that aren't broadcasting. That work for you?"
"I think so."
"Good to hear. Now, what makes you think you're qualified to fix my stuff. It's expensive, you know. I don't want just anyone working on it."
"Well, I built this transmitter I'm using. I took apart an old unit, got rid of the fluff, and installed it in a PipBuck."
"Classy, I like it. You don't sell yourself short, I like that too. I think we're gonna get on just fine, you and I."
"Glad to hear it."
"Thought you would be. Now let me just turn on that blocker I mentioned..."
There was a warbly flickering sound, then Golden Mike's raspy voice returned.
"...There. Alright, we're all clear now. So give me your name, son."
"I'm still gonna hold off on the name. When I get to your station, you'll know me by my voice."
"Still playing your cards close to the chest. Guess I can't blame you there."
"So tell me what you need me to do."
"Well, let me tell you my setup. My tech-bucks call it a Domino Transmission. What essentially happens is I have some folks set up broadcasters all across the Wasteland. Each one activates the rest of the broadcasters in its range. This carries on until they're all activated.
"Now you may or may not know this, but these old-world do-hickies called SPP Towers block all but certain transmissions from going a certain distance. Those few transmissions that are approved are actually enhanced. I think that Pon3 fella has that kinda setup."
"But you don't have that kind of setup. Instead you use this Domino Transmission system to get around it, since you're technically broadcasting from several separate locations," I deducted.
"I can see I got the right pony for the job. Or griffon. Whatever you are."
"I'll give you that one. I'm a unicorn." I frowned. "So why do you need me, exactly?"
"Well, in order to keep this setup private, I use a second transmitter to broadcast a code to the others. They don't work unless the code is constantly being streamed."
"But it broke," I guessed.
"You got it."
"That still doesn't explain why you or your 'tech-bucks' can't fix it yourself."
"A couple of reasons. Biggest is that the guy who set it up is off doing something else, and I don't know when he'll be back. He left schematics, but my remaining techies just know the basics. They do a great job, but this is a bit beyond them.
"The other reason is that the closest replacement parts are... well, someplace me and my associates aren't particularly welcome."
"Why is that?"
"Not worth going into now. Anyway, it's a town by the name of Repentance. Heard of it?"
"No."
"You say you got a PipBuck. Just mentioning the town should mark it on your map. The magic they managed to stuff into those things, I swear..."
"Ask about the reward!" Wick whispered.
"What about payment?"
"Six hundred caps, and more work, if you're looking for it. I have an insider who told me there's a big thing needs repairing. Help me out, I'll tell you about it."
"Sound good?" I whispered. Wick nodded and Swiss shrugged.
"That sounds fine," I replied.
"Alrighty then. Let me just put us back on the air."
The warbly sound returned and disappeared like before.
"Hope you're still tuned in, because I got good news, listeners. This young buck has agreed to help us here at Radioactive Radio with our problem."
"My pleasure. I listen to this station a lot, and I want it back up too."
"Aww, you're making me blush. Well, now that that's taken care of, we'll get back to regular broadcast. Best of luck to you, my friend."
I flicked off my microphone and unplugged it.
"I think that went well."
"Tell me about it! Six hundred caps! We're practically set for life!" exclaimed Wick.
"Don't forget we need to do the job, first," said Swiss, still apprehensive. "He was reluctant to talk about why he didn't want to go to that town. He's not telling us something."
"You're just being paranoid, Swiss," said Wick. "He obviously wants this done right, so why would he skimp on telling us things that could be important. If he thought we needed to know, he would've told us."
"It's still worth being careful," I said. "We should stay on our guard. It would be stupid not to."
I marked the newly appeared town of Repentance on my PipBuck. It was northwest of our current location.
"Looks around a weeks trip or so from here. We'll start towards it in the morning."