[color=00aeef][b]Acadia National Park Observatory  - The Institute[/b][/color]

Director Xavier Allen Crawford stood atop the balcony rim of the Acadia Observatory overlooking the mountain itself and the town of Far Harbor beyond to the east. Before him the fantastic scenery of Mount Desert Island opened up, giving a commanding view of the region. Xavier thought back to what DiMA had once said to him,

[i]You know, when I first climbed this mountain, above the fog, I thought to myself: now here is a metaphor worth taking in.[/i]

The old malfunctioning prototype had indeed recognized the importance of such a place, although Xavier doubted that DiMA could have ever envisioned what this mountain could truly become. DiMA’s ‘spiritual’ mountain top was now far more than just a metaphor for clarity.

Below him, Xavier surveyed what The Institute had transformed this place into.  The observatory had been renovated and repaired, its crumbling walls and dilapidated facade replaced with new paneling, stonework, and a fresh coat of crisp white paint. Surrounding the observatory were also now a large amount of new construction: simple rectangular utilitarian buildings in which various laboratories and residential quarters had been set up. Hugging one side of the observatory was a large greenhouse, built to house a myriad of vibrant plant life to be used for botanical and horticultural research, as well as an all important source of fresh food. A large pipe that ran up the mountainside to the summit pumped freshly purified water from nearby Eagle Lake both to the greenhouse as well as to a central well from where it could be distributed via a newly constructed plumbing system to the other structures  To the west, all along the mountainside were rows and rows of turbines which spun steadily in the high wind generating electric power. Supplementing this all important feature was a new addition as well: makeshift solar paneling lined the roofs of many buildings including the observatory. 

Much of the surrounding trees and brush had been cut back and cleared along the mountainside, allowing them to expand even further down towards its base. With each year that passed, more and more land was reclaimed to either serve as testing grounds for new research, or to give more living space to The Institute’s people. In order to protect these scientists and their families, a high perimeter wall had been built further down the mountain, encompassing Acadia in its entirety. Machine-gun turrets, tripwire alarms, barbed-wire, and spotlights had all been placed evenly along the wall, and Synths troopers and Coursers patrolled it night and day. 

Yes, under his leadership, The Institute had turned this place into a veritable haven, a fortress and refuge from where it could recover its strength and project its power across the island. While nothing could match their former underground home in terms of its splendor and security, to Xavier, this was perhaps the closest thing they could find out here on the surface. 

Granted, the island was still not without its dangers. 

Xavier walked around the balcony until he faced the western side. Far out in the distance he could see a great grey wall that obscured the land and ocean beyond it. To anyone unfamiliar with the region, it would seem as though the earth simply stopped at the point where the churning grey mist met the clear sky. In fact, what lay beyond was simply the land which was still claimed by The Fog. When they’d first arrived on the island, The Fog covered it in its entirety and the people of Far Harbor huddled themselves at the edge of a crumbling dock. But with their superior technology in tow, The Institute had managed to drive The Fog back and contain it to one half of the island. Here mutated creatures called The Fog home, and here too The Children of Atom lived. Deep within their “Nucleus”, The Children of Atom sequestered themselves content in their worship of radiation which they had anthropomorphized into a deity they called ‘Atom’. The Children and The Institute had come to an understanding after Acadia had been taken-over, with both sides largely keeping to their own side of the island. That arrangement suited Director Crawford just fine, although it made some of the people of Far Harbor a little uneasy. 

He turned once again towards the fledgling town that hugged the Coast in defiance of the churning waters around it. Far Harbor had profited much from The Institute’s arrival. No longer confined to the lone dock which had served as a last refuge, the Harbormen had broken out and reclaimed much of the original borders of the town. The once ruined buildings there had been repaired and restored so that the people could finally have room to expand and live. A proud makeshift barrier enveloped the new borders of the town and surrounded it in a protective embrace. The Harbormen affectionately referred to it as ‘The Hull’ and they’d politely, yet stubbornly, refused to accept The Institute’s offer of assistance to construct it. ‘The Mariner knows what's best for The Hull’ they’d said, and Crawford hadn’t the mind to argue the point. Besides, in truth they’d managed to survive this long largely on their own, so they must have known a thing or two about constructing defenses. The one thing they’d been unable to do themselves was construct and maintain the Fog Condensers. 

Xavier looked up at the final, and perhaps most important piece of new construction. A tall thin tower rose high from the base of the Observatory Dome and reached up at least double its height to the sky. At its apex, a great shimmering blue light could be seen, making the tower look like a ghostly lighthouse on the horizon. This was one of the newer Fog Condensers, a concept that DiMA had developed but that had been made into a triumphant vision by The Institute’s scientists. One of these large condensers could cover several square miles of land and keep the fog at bay, and five of them had been spread throughout the eastern half of the Island. Once constructed and installed, the biggest issue with their maintenance was simply keeping them powered with electricity. The wind turbines, solar panels, and the Observatory's own fusion generator all worked in tandem to generate the power necessary, but there was always a need for more. That was a problem which needed addressing. 

“Director Crawford, sir?”

Xavier spun around to see a female Gen-3 Synth standing behind him, wearing the usual jumpsuit uniform emblazoned with a small red Institute vitruvian man on the left breast. 

“Yes, what is it B7?” 

“The delegates from Far Harbor are here. X1-55 is requesting permission to allow them through the checkpoint.”

‘Delegates’ was probably a stretch to say, Xavier thought, more appropriate would probably be ‘petitioners’ or ‘grumblers’ depending on the day. 

“Yes very well, allow them through the perimeter and then escort them yourself B7.  I’ll meet them in the Observatory hall when they arrive.”

“Very well sir.” B7 gave a quick bow and scurried off to meet the Harbormen at the checkpoint. 

Xavier turned back to the view one last time. He gave a long sigh. Time was when an Institute Director would never have had to entertain surface-dwellers, but instead could focus on the day to day operations of The Institute and its divisions. Those days were over now it seemed, they could no longer afford to ignore the wasteland. They had to allow some part of it, however small, in,

“Let’s see what this is all about then,” Xavier muttered to himself, and turned to descended back down the observatory stairs.