Dwight La Cross's Arc

Chapter 4 of 4

Dwight adjusted his glasses and studied the metal shelving unit he'd just installed along the back wall of his base. Three tiers, sturdy construction, enough space for organized storage. He loaded the top shelf with his soil sample vials, each one labeled with location coordinates and collection dates. The middle shelf held his technical manuals—Vault-Tec maintenance protocols, prewar geology texts, anything related to terraforming systems. On the bottom shelf, he stacked his trade goods: spare capacitors, coils of wire, a few working circuit boards. Everything visible now. Everything accessible. He stepped back and nodded. When he finally decoded the G.E.C.K.'s systems, he'd need this kind of organization to cross-reference data quickly. The shelves would hold more than supplies—they'd hold the foundation of what he planned to teach others. He grabbed his pack and headed outside for his afternoon survey. The stone watchtower rose in the distance, its flat roof catching the sun. Dwight had spotted it from three miles out when he first arrived in Broken Hills. Now it marked his return path whenever he explored the outer zones. He pulled out his notebook and sketched the tower's position relative to his base. Landmarks mattered when mapping radiation zones and potential vault access points. The skeletal tree stone monument stood near a cluster of rocks, its carved surface weathered but readable. Dwight ran his paw along the inscriptions—stages of plant survival, etched deep into the stone. Someone had documented which species lasted after the bombs. He photographed the carvings and copied the plant names into his notebook. Rosette Agave, Desert Ironwood, Creosote Bush. His tail flicked as he worked. This was field data, the kind his manuals couldn't provide. When the G.E.C.K.'s molecular reconstitution started rebuilding soil, he'd need to know which plants already handled the radiation and heat. Dwight knelt beside a living rosette agave growing at the monument's base. Gray-green leaves formed a tight spiral, each one thick and fleshy. He pulled out his soil probe and took a sample from the roots. The plant was thriving in conditions that killed everything else. He labeled the vial and tucked it into his pack's lead-lined pocket. Back at his base, he'd test the pH levels and mineral content. Maybe the agave had adapted to extract something specific from the dead earth. That kind of information would help him calibrate the G.E.C.K.'s atmospheric processors. He stood and brushed the dust from his knees. Every plant that survived taught him something. Every sample brought him closer to understanding what this land needed to grow again.