Salvage

by Rollem Bones

Tonic

Chapter 2: Tonic
"Trust me."

Even after Equestria burned, Sparkle-Cola remained. Their billboards still line the old skyways. Their posters still hang on decayed plaster walls. Their caps are our currency. In most places a bottle of Sparkle-Cola is better for you than the local water. Running into the drink of choice for the wasteland is hardly a surprising matter.

Yet I was still surprised at the unicorn looking down at me holding a bottle of cola in a hazy blue aura.

I took the bottle and started to guzzle the drink. It was freezing. Honest to goodness ice-cold Sparkle-Cola had found its way to the wasteland. The bubbles, something I'd only seen in advertisements before this, danced down my throat in way I didn't expect. I coughed at the crackling fizz, but nothing couldn't keep the ear to ear grin off my face. I sighed with a happiness I hadn't had since before my life turned to ash. Almost being on fire makes a stallion thirsty.

"I didn't think anypony would find this place, much less stick around," the unicorn mused to herself while staring off into the thoughtful middle distance.

"Thank you. Especially for the part where you didn't kill me," I forced a laugh.

I set the empty bottle aside and got a look at my recent savior. She was silver but what stood out in a literal way was her mane; It was an electric blue ridge fanning along her head. The raider style clashed with the rest of her; it usually wasn't paired with glasses and a lab coat.

"What are you looking at?" she had caught me watching. Her eyes narrowed. I could see the calculations going on behind her eyes. I felt like a parasprite under a looking glass.

"How does it stay up?" I managed to blurt.

She snapped from her scrutiny, blinking at me. "What?" Her attention followed the track of my eyes. "Oh, my mane? Wonderglue."

Wonderglue. There was plenty of the stuff around, I had pawned it off on Summer more than a few times in the past, and I even used it to fix a few things here and there. A mane care product, however, it was not.

She caught my skeptical expression and fumbled to explain. "I dilute it. It isn't so dangerous as it looks. How do you think the raiders do it?"

"Blood, mud, and probably a few other fluids I'd rather not contemplate."

She gave me the expected look of disgust.

I shifted to a friendlier tone and stood up. "Name's Call, and thanks again for the hoof up."

She stood to introduce herself, tall enough to meet me eye to eye. "Fizadora Tonic. You aren't a threat to my work, so I wouldn't in good conscious kill you."

"You mean couldn't?" I asked

"No."

"Uh, thanks," I mustered a but I was talking to her flank anyway. She had gone back to those three immaculate vending machines. I trotted after her. "You mind if I just call you Fizzy. Fizadora is a bit of a mouthful."

"If you want," Fizzy Tonic said with a shrug that told me I probably could have called her anything and it would not have mattered. She looked at the side of one of the machines and asked, "Did you open these?"

I froze in place. I hoped this would not end with me stabbing somepony so soon after the last. The truth rarely set me free in my experience, but she had me dead to rights. She gave me a drink so I figured I owed her a little honesty. "Yes. I didn't know anyone was using this place. They looked so good I hoped I'd just gotten lucky."

"You really think so?" Fizzy asked. She looked at me with eyes the size of dinner plates. "I did my best with these ones. I had to scrap a few dozen around here, and trade for a bunch of electrical components. Just got it done yesterday, hooked it up to a spark generator I pieced together from the leftovers and the internals of an energy rifle. I always loved Sparkle-cola, and I wanted to get a feel for what it must have been like back in the old days. Did you know that the properties found in Sparkle-Cola are some of the hardiest in the entirety of the Equestria wastes? I mean, the reinforced terminals are great and all, and a lot of Equestrian tech is in surprisingly good condition given the circumstances but with a little effervescence and some proper care, Sparkle-Cola is just as good now as it was then. At least that's what that ghoul told me when I had him try one of my batches. I don't think he had reason to lie to me, there was little he could gain out it. What do you think? You tried it. You sucked it right down. Was it good?"

I blinked, dumbfounded. Fizadora could ramble. I took a moment to recover from the verbal deluge. "It was cold?" No, that was not a good start, but it got my engines running, "It was amazing. It had the sweet taste of carrots and all those tingling bubbles. All with no lingering after taste and yes, ice cold." I looked to her and threw up a smile for a shield.

Fizzy came at me like a shot. "Brilliant," she said, jabbing me in the chest with a fore hoof. "Because I made it that way. You won't get any other like it in the wasteland. Which means you owe me."

She huffed in a way that made haughty insufficient as she turned and marched back to her machines. I thought she was checking them again, but she was just getting some bags, floating them to rest against her flanks. "I'm cleaning out the top floor today. You can assist me. Take this. I didn't make it, but I'm certain the merchant who sold it wasn't lying. Not that I have proof, but a remedy is a remedy."

A healing potion floated to me as she trotted by. I took it and drank it down. The dull ache of my internal injuries faded from me. "Thank you. Again," I said for the fresh relief, but she was already through the lobby door and into parts unknown.

"Is she always like this?" I asked the vending machine before trotting after Fizadora

"So what's Haystack?" I asked Fizzy. On the back of her labcoat was a symbol; a ball with the word Haystack printed underneath. I had been watching it since following Fizzy up the stairs and my curiosity was eating at me.

"No idea."

Little lie detector bells rang in my head. The answer was too quick, it came out nearly the same time I finished my sentence. Mechanical wiz or not, Fizzy Tonic was no liar.

"Okay, okay, let me rephrase that for you," I pushed, "That's a lab coat. I've seen them before. I can tell by looking that Haystack wasn't put on there as some random decoration. You're good with technology. Lab coat, technology, they're kind of related. I figure you might have some clue."

Fizz turned around a little faster than I expected. We collided. She stared at me, her eyes wide and searching. I waited for the inevitable admission while her eyes finished darting back and forth.

"W-well, I could say the same thing about you!" she snapped.

I flinched at the sudden turn; this was not how it was supposed to go.

"Why don't you tell me about your stable?" she pressed, prodding my chest and glaring over the frames of her glasses.

I paused, trying to figure out just what Fizadora meant. I remembered the broken PipBuck.

"I bought it off a trader. I don't even know how to use one of these things. Even if I did, it's busted anyways. It's an oversized bracelet." I thumped the PipBuck against the wall to make my point.

"In that case, the same goes for my coat. Don't go press the issue." She turned the conversation, and herself, around on me.

I mentally kicked myself as I watched her trudge up the stairs. I still had questions, and I knew this girl had plenty to hide. Her reaction was enough to tell me I had hit on something important and my curiosity shouted and stamped to get me to go after it. For the time being, I would have to shut up and stick behind her. It was time to play my cards right.
Rows of desolate desks, most of them in near pristine condition, lined the entirety of the second floor; most of them empty. Blank faced dead terminals stared back at us, useless for decades.

"This all seem a little off to you?" I asked Fizzy.

The office was spotless. Desks, drawers, those little corners that no one really cares about, everything were immaculate. It was as though the whole office was just waiting to pick back up again after a years long vacation.

The unicorn was looking at a terminal, the silvery glow of her magic working at the electronics. She adjusted her skewed lenses whenever she needed to focus.

She must not have heard me. "Fizzy?"

"Quiet. I need to concentrate if I'm going to get this thing back to life."

With Fizzy being busy, I started to explore the rest of the floor and found the hall was just as clean as the rest. Photographs of ponies and places lined the walls. I took time to look at them to see who had lived here so long ago. The first had a group of ponies, a pegasus, an earth pony, and a unicorn in front of a large building I assumed was this one.

The next photograph had the same group as the first. They all wore some kind of safety gear and stood inside a massive factory. Incredible machinery stood like monuments around them. A factory floor of some type, but where I had never seen.

The last one showed a pair of pegasi standing in front of a Sparkle-Cola billboard. Their grins triumphant, they held their hooves up to show off their latest advertisement in the sky. I found myself lost in that old world of ghosts and photographs. Time sliding by into a haze of memories not my own.

A tin voice dragged me from my wallowing in the past. "Remember, employees, a clean office is a happy office!" It cracked and popped from the other room, growing louder though still not distinct.

Whatever was haunting this floor had caught me unawares. I needed to move and fast. I crouched, moving along the wall to the door that led into the room the voice came from. I didn't dare call for Fizzy lest I catch the attention whatever it was haunting this floor.

A moment later and I didn't have to; Fizzy came walking in from the other room by her own volition. She scowled, ears flat, and her eye gave an occasional twitch. "Stupid weak power converters," she groused, "Stupid damn motherb-"

I had stuck my hoof in her mouth.

"Remember, employees, to always dispose of all of your refuse in our brand new Incino-Tron chute!" The voice went off again. I leaned my head around the corner. Fizzy leaned in just under me. Both of us sighed with synchronized relief.

The voice came from a Mr. Hoof. The robot floated away from us, bobbing in shallow raises and dips as it went. Fizzy and I slipped into the room, side by side.

I spoke in a whisper, "Seems harmless."

"They all do until it tries to shove a saw in your eye."

The robot turned around. Its eye stalk aimed right at the two of us and it began to putter in our direction. It had heard us.

"Greetings employees! Are you ready for a Sparkle-tastic day?" it spoke in a too-cheery-by-half voice, "Please stand still for facial identification."

I readied myself to run. Sharp Retort was all I had for weaponry and it never did fare well against the occasional robot I stumbled over.

Fizzy stopped me with a well-planted hoof in my side. A little too well-planted, the wind puffed out of my lungs.

"What was that for?" I wheezed like a dying balloon.

"Hold still," Fizzy spoke from the side of her muzzle, giving a fake grin to the floating robot.

"Facial pattern not recognized," the robot announced. "You must be new employees! Please state the authorization code. If the code is incorrect, please remain where you are, someone will be here to vaporize you shortly."

I froze, counting the seconds until I took a saw in the eye. It was a good run while it lasted.

"Sparkle-Cola is magic."

I gave Fizzy a look. I knew the girl liked soda, but I couldn't help but wonder if those were what she really wanted to be her final words.

"Password accepted. Welcome New Employees, to the Sparkle-Cola Company's East Manehattan Facility! I am your floor two security and janitorial specialist. Please remember to use the appropriate Incino-Tron chute for all your refuse needs." The robot played a garbled fanfare. Then it simply turned and floated away.

Fizzy caught my look utter disbelief. "It's the same password everywhere. It's not the first one I've run into," she said, shrugging as she walked onward, leaving me to sit there and puzzle over her.

"Okay, okay," I said as I followed the mare. "What's with the cola obsession? You clearly have something going on here. Something has lead you to enough places that you know how their robots work. What exactly are we looking for here?"

Fizzy stopped and turned her head to follow my approach. "I'm looking for a terminal, a particular one with particular information on it. That's all. I just need you in case something attacks me. You are some kind of scavenger, are you not?"

"Salvager. I am a salvager," I was firm on that point, "I'm bringing back the forgotten, braving the dangers in order that the ponies of the world can survive just a bit easier."

I held my head high and pranced past the unicorn.

"Bullshit."

I stopped, my hoof tapped on the floor. I slowly turned my head back toward the unicorn. She was trying her hoof at another terminal. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Bullshit," again answered with casual dismissal. She looked up from her terminal and tilted her glasses straight. "Call it what you want, but you're just scavenging and hawking for your own profit. Don't try and tell me you have a higher reason for it."

I don't know what hurt more, Fizzy's statement itself or the fact that I knew it was right. I stormed toward her, head down and holding a look that I could only hope was a close approximation to steely "So what is it that you call what you're doing?"

The unicorn continued to work at the broken terminal. "I'm trying to fix a terminal." She spoke in that tone of voice reserved for the very young or the very stupid.

I snorted. If she was going to be like that, I wasn't going to help her out. "If that's how you're going to be, good luck being alone. Thanks for the soda." I walked onward, leaving the mare to type away on her terminal.

"Curtain Call?"

Fizadora Tonic caught up with me half way into the lobby. I stopped and closed my eyes. Her voice had a tremor I hadn't heard before. I chewed on my cheek and against my better judgment I turned around.

Fizzy stood with her head and tail drooped. She had big eyes, too. Very big eyes.

I sat and waved a hoof, "You got my attention."

When Fizzy spoke, she was quiet. Her mouth opened and closed and not a word came out. She looked down at the floor, the vending machines, me. "I," she took a deep breath and floated her glasses off her nose, "I'm sorry, okay? I," She closed her eyes and set her glasses back on her nose. "I don't always say the right things."

The admission threw me. I thought about what she told me. I have always prided myself on being a judge of ponies. I have traveled and I have met many, I have entertained many. I had a lot I could have said in that moment; a lot I wanted to say. However, this was one of those times I just had to shut up and play things right. I sighed, smiled, and started back toward the stairs. I smiled to the mare as I passed.

"Thanks."

I had bigger problems to think about than my own self-satisfaction. Fizadora Tonic was proud, and it would have to be something important to force her down here to apologize to me. I had no idea why or for what function she could need me for in this case, but I was getting increasingly curious of her as we saw more of the Sparkle-Cola Company, East Manehattan Facility.

"Well now what?" I asked Fizzy. We stood in front of the door leading to the third floor offices, the locked door leading to the third floor offices. "Do you have any way to get in there?" I watched her as she eyeballed the lock, seemingly trying to will it open. "Lockpicks? Magic? Small explosive device?" The look Fizzy gave me told me my curiosity was unappreciated.

Fizzy's face scrunched as she thought, and then looked back down the stairwell behind us. "Curtain Call," she "I need you to talk to the robot."

"Um, Fizzy, you do know that it's hard to fast talk a machine," I pointed out the obvious. Down below, the janitorial robot shouted some inane platitude about cleanliness and Celestia. "Especially a robot with an obsessive cleaning program."

Fizzy sighed and shook her head. Clearly my logic wasn't winning her over. "No, no, listen," she told me, "Just see if it can go clean the upper floors. If it thinks you're an employee, maybe you can just tell it to go upstairs. It does, we follow, we're in."

It sounded like a solid plan. I relented and went back down the stairs to find the cleaning robot.

I found the robot trying to pick up a bottlecap with a dustpan attachment. All it managed was to push the cap a little bit farther along with each attempt. It was endearing in a pathetic sort of way.

The hovering robot turned around from its bottle cap retrieval duties when I addressed it. Its eyestalk pointed at me and my grin.

"Hey there, mister janitor, I was wondering, you do a bang up job down here but the upstairs is a little messy could you maybe," I nodded my head toward the stairway, "Just bobble on up there to give it a once-over?"

"Negative!" The robot was still too cheerful. "I am not the assigned cleaning drone for the Sparkle-Cola Company, East Manehattan Facility, third floor. I am the assigned drone for the Sparkle-Cola Distribution Center, East Manehattan Facility, second floor. Therefore, I may not leave the designated area in order to fulfill request: 'once-over'." The robot hovered in front of me, silent. In some way it seemed to share in the awkwardness of the moment before it added, "Is there anything else that I may do for you, employee number not found?"

"Well that's a shame; I guess I'll just be going then." I turned back toward the stairs. "Say, mister janitor," I stopped, "Can you remind me of the company cleanliness policy?"

"Certainly employee number not found!" The robot sparked with pre-programmed enthusiasm and a literal fanfare. Then if began to rattle off a long and seemingly endless list of policy and procedure.

With no intention of staying around to listen to the whole speech, I went back toward the stairs. I only wanted the robot to feel accomplished.

". . .In perfect harmony. I'd like to buy the world a- oh, Curtain Call, what're you doing back here so soon?"

"I didn't know you sang," I chuckled when I found Fizzy singing and tapping a little wad of paper against the hinges of the locked door.

Fizzy coughed and turned her attention back to the hinges. "It helps concentration. Now please back up, I'm working."

I decided now was not a good time to argue and stepped down the stairs though I kept watching until Fizzy came down to join me.

Fizzy had a too-wide grin. "I think you should-"

A loud bang filled the air and a ringing filled my ears. Dust and smoke roiled down from the stairway.

"Cover your ears," Fizzy finished and laughed and went up into the dusty unknown with my in tow.

"That was on purpose!" I cried out and ran up after Fizadora.

"And why didn't you say you had explosives!"
The third floor was made up of offices for the managerial staff. It was not as clean as the lower floor, with papers strewn about, old books rotted with age, leaking pipes and dim lighting filtered through grimy windows. The ceiling groaned overhead, straining with age and the recent bombing.

Fizzy and I separated, taking opposite sides of the hall. The offices were tombs. A diorama of time gone by left untouched by ponies like me.

The first held was a desk, a burnt out terminal, some old filing cabinets that had nothing more than disintegrating paperwork. The skeleton of a pegasus still sat at the desk; a coffee cup tipped on its side sat next to its skull.

I looked at it for a moment and wondered if it were one of the pegasi in the pictures I saw downstairs. I mourned the pony I would never know, though I imagined and hoped that he or she at least got the chance to enjoy one last cup of coffee before the end of the world.

The door to the next office was barred, held shut by fallen cabinets. I managed to shove it open after some effort. The room was empty and without a skeletal resident. There was little of importance to salvage in the office. I took it anyways. With all of my stuff gone, I had to start rebuilding somehow.

I ventured into the third office. I dug through the cabinets, scrounged through the drawers. All I could find were a trio of Sparkle-Cola bottles, one of them radish flavor. I popped open the Sparkle-Cola classic for a drink as I rummaged about. It was piss warm and flat but the flavor still lingered. When I saw the faint green glow of an operating terminal, I finished my drink, left the bottle on the desk, and called out to Fizzy.

It was password protected, and I was no good with those things, but Fizzy cracked its shell with ease. I felt a pang or two of jealousy over her magic when she pulled up the files she could salvage. I read over her shoulder.

Entry #267

Went to dinner with the R&D colts from Salt Lick City. We went over the quantities of sugar put into the latest batch of cola. They think they have some kind of substitute they drummed up in their labs that could replace what we use now. It's supposed to be sweeter than the sugar we already use. Frankly, I just don't get it. How could it be sweeter than sugar already is? Sugar is sugar. Sugar will always be sugar. They hinge their argument that when they get the formula up and running, it will be cheaper than real sugar, too! I may not understand how they can make it sweeter, but I can understand cheaper.

Entry #270

Tried the new batch of arcane sweetener today. I passed around a sample to the others. It works, somehow. Sky High thinks it has a funny aftertaste, but five out of six ain't bad. I pushed along a memo giving our take on this stuff. I can see a bright future ahead of us. This stuff could really fly out here, and if you can make it in Manehattan, you can make it anywhere.

Entry #289

Turns out the arcane sweetener has a little magical radioactivity issue. Of course, this falls onto my back. They even sent along one of the bottles from our new radish line. The damn thing glows! This is going to be a PR disaster. We cannot afford a recall this late in the quarter. Now that I think about it. Radishes, radiation. Rad. I think I could work with something here.

Fizzy turned off the terminal and sighed.

"Nothing?" I asked.

Fizzy nodded. "All interesting, but none of it was what I need. There's still one more, though. Check that and then that's it." Her eyes eyes turned to the floor and ears drooped as she slunk out to the hall.

I took the glowing Sparkle-Cola from saddlebag and mumbled around it to get Fizzy's attention.

"Where'd you get that? That's a Sparkle-Cola Rad. These are useful, yes, yes, very useful." Fizzy wrenched the bottle from my mouth using her magic. "They're a key reagent in a number of alchemical mixtures. Thank you so much, thank you! At least this isn't a total loss.

"Found it in the cabinet. Nothing else. So you think we'll get lucky with the office at the end of the hall?"

"I don't like to deal with luck, but I'd say the probability is in our favor," Fizzy said with renewed spirit.

Defeatism defeated. we strode into the office at the end of the hall. Two or three times the size of the others, it must have been some bigwig's place. The well held more pictures but they were stained and impossible to interpret. The giant desk that stood centerpiece was made of a solid wood that took on the war and time itself with a hearty laugh. On that desk was a terminal in equally good condition.

We split up; Fizzy headed straight for the terminal while I dug about the file cabinets, walls, and generally poked my nose into places for anything worth salvaging.

Fizzy made a squeak of happiness and I assumed we were in business. "Figs," the unicorn groused and business stalled. She magically adjusted her glasses and studied the screen. "This is pretty heavily encrypted. It might take a while for me to do this. You mind waiting?"

"Let me check my schedule. Seems I'm empty this whole lifetime, I think I can squeeze in a wait,"

Time ticked on and Fizzy kept ticking at the terminal.

I read some of the books left by the office's former owner. After a while, I started acting them out.

"Can't you see them hurrying, hurrying – puffing and blowing and hooting to their other mechanical affairs? Something out of gear in every case," I waved a hoof dramatically, looking up to my imaginary mark, "And swish, bang, rattle, swish! Just as they are fumbling over it, swish comes the heat ray, and, behold! Ponykind has come into its own." I turned around to end my speech on a dramatic note.

I found myself staring face to brain in a jar with a robopony.

A searing light burned my neck and I bolted from the machine. "Fizzy! Fizadora!" I shouted. I ducked down and the beam's scorching light reduced a pile of magazines to ashen powder.

"Friendship is a warm glow!" the robopony spoke in a mechanical voice that I can only describe as cracked. "Please hold still." It trundled after me, firing beam after beam as I ran a small circuit around the room.

Fizzy just kept on typing at the terminal, her attention long lost to things more important than the world around her.

I ran in circles to avoid the mental robopony and his terrible beam. "Anytime now!" I shouted, my voice cracking as I felt another searing ray heat the metal plating of my barding. The hot metal made me yelp. I tripped over one of the books I left on the floor and tumbled ass over teakettle.

The robopony rolled over to me. "Friend acquired," it intoned in a voice with far too much happiness.

I took my chance and threw myself upward, scrambled for my life as another beam nearly turned my head into power. I wrapped my hooves around the braincase of the robopony, swung around to the back and clung for my life.

"Locating new friend," the robopony announced and started rolling forward.

I took Sharp Retort into my mouth. With a muffled cry of war, I beat down on the robopony's brain jar. All I accomplished was making a resonant clunk and a painful throb in my jaw.

The robopony emitted a squealing alarm and tried to buck me off by rolling backward and forward.

Clank, clank, clank! Blow after blow I rained down on the robopony and it just wouldn't stop. It fired beams into the walls, into the floor, and one scorched the desk where Fizzy was working.

"Will you please take care of that thing?" Fizzy shouted above the clamoring robopony.

"I'm trying! You could try to help you know!" My head pounded and the burns from the beam gun felt like cold fire. I knew I couldn't keep up hanging from the back of the robopony for much longer.

"Just! Die! Already!" I shouted through gritted teeth in time with my pounding against the braincase. It cracked under my strikes but now Sharp Retort was stuck in the thick casing. Worse, it wasn't deep enough to pierce the brain inside.

The robopony threw me by spinning in tighter and tighter circles. I hit the ground, hard. My hardhat bounced off my head and clattered to a bookshelf. I lay sprawled for a moment, making sense of what up and down were. I had stopped tumbling but the world didn't.

Another beam lanced into my side. I wanted to shout to Fizzy for leaving me there to be riddled, but could only manage a wordless yowl.

"I just want to give you the welcome you deserve," the robopony squawked and giggled as it bore down on me.

The giggling robopony was going down. I rolled away from another blast and got onto my hooves. I dashed another circuit around the office and took up the heaviest book I could get my teeth on as I rounded the beam-spewing bastard. I reared up, put everything I had behind me, and brought my improvised weapon down on top of Sharp Retort.

The dome shattered. The ooze, viscous and pungent, splashed everywhere. Sharp Retort still skewering the brain, lay on the floor a reeking shish kebab. The metal body of the pony stood still. I stood panting. I won.

I spat my bludgeon on the floor: A book titled, "Making Weapons Work for You". I pocketed the book and cleaned the brain off Sharp Retort.

Fizzy cheered.

I trotted over toward her, head held high in pride despite being burnt, tired, and sticky.

"The password was Entitlement!"

My head dropped. I scowled. It was as though she hadn't just seen me in a brawl to the death with particularly persistent metal death machine. "Oh gee," my voice dripped sarcasm, "I hope you didn't strain a brain muscle there. I'm going to go curl up and die now, let me know when you're done."

A floating healing potion bounced off my nose. I stopped and stared at it crosseyed.

"Thanks," Fizzy told me, with a smile. "I couldn't have done this without you."

I took the potion and sucked it down. The feeling of relief was warm and intoxicating. My burns washed away in a cool rush of arcane wonderment. It even got rid of the headache from hammering Sharp Retort against the dome.

"Come here, come here," Fizzy waved a hoof, drawing me around to look at the terminal. "This is what I've been hunting for." She caught the look on my face. "I owe you a ton, I know, I want to show I can make good on it, I promise."

I sighed, accepting the IOU at face value. Besides, I was interested in what I just risked my life to get.

She scooted aside to let me in while she floated a map out onto the desk.

I read the terminal and my jaw struck the desk with the force of a jackhammer.

"Soda?"

"Soda!"

I shouted, "You used me? You used me and threw me in the face of death for some soda!"

Rage and fury was mingled with the growing impressment at being played so easily. More than that I was wrapped in such of a sense of utter disbelief it consumed me. I roared at her, loudly venting of my frustration and aggravation at her. "Not even soda itself. Information about where to get soda. Theoretical soda. Soda in potentia!"

Fizadora looked at me as firmly as she had just this morning when we sat at the vending machines. "I used you. I figured there would be defenses and I couldn't risk losing the information again given my standard means of protection. It's worth it, however, and you have to believe me about that. Please hear me out."

My furious panting slowed down. I leveled my eyes at her. "Continue," I bid her through gritted teeth.

Fizadora searched for words. Hacking came easier to her, of that, I was certain. "And besides, it isn't just soda. It's a shitload of soda."

"Oh that makes it all better, why the fuck didn't you say that before? That totally fucking changes everything." I laid the derision on thick.

"It's a rare kind!" she snapped at me now. "You wouldn't understand!"

Her voice dropped, and she had sat down. She could hack a terminal without batting an eyelash while a fight rages around her, but the weight of a few words crushed her. "I need it to help my family and friends. I need it to help my home."

My rage quelled. I sat down and I looked at her and her sadness.

She looked at the floor.

I thought back to the other night. My last night at home. My last night having a home. I had listened to the DJ talk about that Stable Dweller. I had wondered about what I was doing. I could see the writing on the wall. I couldn't help but laugh, "Well fuck me."

"What?" Fizz's words dripped acid.

"Not like that," I started, "Please. I don't like being used, okay, but, but I'd like to give you help if you're looking to do some good out there. Don't give me that look. I'll watch your back. It's safer out there in groups than alone. You need to be honest with me. No more of this keeping me in the dark crap, okay?"

She thought it over a moment. "Okay," she said, "You're right. Traveling in a pair will be more effective. I don't need or care for most of this junk anyways. I'm only after what I need. You can claim the rest as sca-," she caught herself and corrected, "salvage. I'm going to guess you're better at dealing with traders than I am, anyways."

I smiled, stood and shook myself off. "It's already gotten dark outside," I noted the obvious, wanting to fill the air with something, an emotional palate cleanser was needed.

"We'll just make camp downstairs. Leave in the morning," Fizz added, almost rote as she gathered up her map, levitating it into her saddlebags. She called after me as she caught up, "Oh, and do you know how to start a fire?"

Morning came without a sound and considering the lack of windows in the lobby, without much light. I woke with a start, having forgotten that I not only wasn't at home, but I didn't have one anymore. Shaking the sleep from my eyes, I checked on my newfound partner.

Fizadora slept still. She hadn't decided to steal my stuff and take off.

I decided not to wake her. I wanted to get a second dig around in the lower floors while I still had a chance.

Always check again is a standard rule in the world of salvaging, because you will never know what you missed the first time around. This time was no different. I must have been real off my hooves so soon after my escape from home. I picked apart here, and there, gathering up a few electronics, some scrap metals, a whetstone, and a bottle of wonderglue. Not a bad haul, all considered. It could come in handy picking up caps when we were on the road. Celestia knows that I didn't have any supplies, Fizzy had no healing potions, and I figured she didn't have enough supplies to support two for very long.

That's when I found the one thing I needed. A radio. It sat there, on a shelf, all streamlined and sitting pretty. I hoped to the highest and trotted over to give it a test. The music came out sweetly.

And now the foal's a going, he's a traveling all around
And now that foal's a running, race the sun down to the ground
He's got a little filly waiting down home with a tear drop in her eye
Cause her handsome foal has left her, gone somewhere out there to die.

I beamed as I listened to the tune. It worked. The damn thing worked. I added the radio to my stash and headed back to the lobby accompanied by the twanging tune from the past.

Fizzy was awake when I got back. She gave me a questioning look when she saw my radio.

"Hey, it gets quiet out there, and how else are we going to listen to what's going on out in the wastelands. You never know what could be happening out there," I defended my choice of carrying a noisy box with me into potentially dangerous territory. "Besides, we'll be able to handle ourselves and the music will do us good."

Fizzy shrugged and nodded. "You're right. Besides, I like it, too. But . . ."

"But what?"

"When I get the chance to, I want to take a look at that PipBuck of yours. With the right parts, I could probably get it going again, or at least mechanically sound enough that we would only need an arcane matrix to get it booted." Her answer rattled off her tongue, almost over my head, and caught my attention only to drive it down to the useless accessory on my foreleg.

"You really think you can get it to work?" I asked, "If you can, knock yourself out." I headed to the exit of the lobby, setting a hoof at the door. "Have any other talents I should know about?" I chuckled, pushing open into the dull gray of the day."

There were two raiders across the street. One was wearing a battle saddle with a pair of long guns. The other carried the boxy form of a beam pistol in her teeth. Both of them right there, and thank Celestia neither of them noticed me close the door just as swiftly as I opened it.

"Problem?" Fizzy asked, her head tilting as she stepped up to the exit.

"Problem."

"What kind?"

"Raider kind. Gun kind. Us being allergic to bullets and beams kind."

Fizzy nodded slowly. "How far?" she asked with far more thought than comfortable.

I gave my best estimate, "About one street width away, give or take a sidewalk."

"Open the door please."

"What?"

"Please, Call. Just open the door. Trust me on this one."

"What are you thinking?"

A gray metal apple floated up between us.

"Oh. I think I like what you're thinking."

Author's Note:

Chapter two. Please let me know if something got fucked up in my taking things from Scrivner to Fimfic.

Thanks for reading!

Comments

[Cloppersdelight]

Why? Why dd salvage get restarted? I missed ny previous messaging about he subject

[Rollem Bones]

3087234

Several reasons. Mostly I never intended for Salvage to return. Somehow along the way I got it in me to bring the story back and hopefully improve on the mistakes I made the first time around. This is also why I suggest people follow my tumblr: The Desk of Rollem Bones I tend to post things there.

[Cloppersdelight]

3087916
Ohhhh yeah i just dont do tumbler too addicted to Facebook already but hey guess I'll reroll over this series and see if we can play a game of spot difference

[RevelRomp]

Caught a small error. I think.
"A floating healing bounced off my nose." -> "A healing potion bounced off my nose."

[Rollem Bones]

3142554

Noted, and fixed. Thanks.