So, this has been bouncing around my laptop for a good few months now and I want rid of it. I bequeath it to you. Enjoy kiddo
The light blinds me as my father passes his torch over my eyes, after a few moments blinking so that the dark spots in my vision clear, I look my father grumpily. Despite my age, I'm as tall as my dad and can meet his eyes easily. He looks at me sceptically and I pull my most innocent face, before letting out a small cough.
"Uh huh," my father murmurs, obviously not falling for it as he turns to put the penlight on his desk. "As far as I can tell you're a perfectly healthy sixteen year old boy. So yes, that means you have to go to class and take your G.O.A.T exam!" he says with a sly grin. My face scrunches up in protest.
"But it's just some stupid test!" I argue in frustration, crossing my arms huffily as I lean on his desk.
"Hey it's not my call, those are the rules." my father says angrily. "It's not 'some stupid test'," Dad says wearily. "The Generalised Occupational Aptitude Test, to give it it's full name, defines what you'll be doing here in the Vault for the rest of your life. So it's important that you do well, not just for me, but for you. And God knows that your mother would turn in her grave if her son became some sewage manager or some sort." Dad says sadly, and I turn my head to the ground. I KNOW it's important it's just...
"But I'm nervous. What if I DO become some sewer manager! I try my best, but what if that isn't good enough?" I rub my shoulder absent-mindedly, not looking my father in the face. But when I hear his warm laugh, I look up in shock.
"As if that could happen. You're one of the brightest kids in your class, and I'm not just saying that. You have so much potential" he looks at me, beaming proudly, and I have to avert my gaze to stop my cheeks from reddening. "I'm so proud of you. And I know your mother would be as well. As long as your happy with what you do in life, I won't stop."
"Go on now, you've got a G.O.A.T to take.
I take a breath before letting it out heavily. I look at Dad and smirk. "Well, if it keeps my old man happy," I say in a world weary voice as I walk to the door and open it. Before I leave, I call over my shoulder with a wink, "What kind of Doctor doesn't prescribe anti-anxiety drugs?" I wave over my shoulder as my father's laughter echoes behind me before being abruptly cut off by the door.
Suddenly I feel a lot less brave.
I move towards the classroom, only down a few halls. But before I can get there, I spot a few others ahead. Butch and his gang, The "Tunnel Snakes", are surrounding Amata, and from what I can tell they're not being gentlemen.
"What's going on?" I say, my voice low. Ever since we were kids me and Amata have been friends. She's stayed for dinner hundreds of times over the years. But lately, I've been seeing her... differently. And the way that Butch is talking to her is making my stomach boil.
Butch turns around and sneers in my direction. He snickers as he turns around laughing towards his boys. He even pulls a comb from his hair and makes sure his hair is perfect. "Nothing's going on man, just showing Amata what a real man's like," he says with a mocking laugh.
My blood boils and my fists clench as I glare at Butch. I turn to his gang, Paul Hannon and Wally Mack. "You realise this is the Overseer's daughter right? The king of the vault? How d'ya think he's gonna be when he finds out you're giving his kid a rough time. You guys must be so happy being lackeys for such an asshole. You gonna follow him into all these stupid ideas all the time?"
Paul and Wally look at each other unsurely. "We'll, uhm, catch you up Butch," Wally says as the two of them quickly march into the classroom. Butch stares at them in outrage before he turns to me, just in time for my fist to crash into his cheek.
He slams onto the wall next to Amata and raises his arms with a cry to defend himself. I bypass his arms and plant another fist in his chest. His hands fall as he wheezes pathetically. I move in closely, and he trembles slightly as I lift him by the shirt and begin to speak.
"If I ever see you near Amata again, I'll make sure that a black eye is the least of your worries. Are we understood?" I ask, deathly calm. I don't wait for his reply before dumping him on the ground. I turn to Amata, my cold façade dropping, replaced with a warm smile. "You okay?"
"Thanks," She says as we move away from the moaning Butch. "I don't get why they always pick on me. Just because I'm the Overseers daughter doesn't mean I get any preferential treatment."
"Forget about those guys, are you okay?" I ask, looking in her eyes while checking her neck and face for any marks. I swear, if he hurt her...
"I'm fine," she laughs, batting my hand away. She groans as we come to the classroom. "Oh I wanted to talk to you before we got here. Stupid Butch," she says bitterly and I laugh warmly. In all my sixteen years, I have never heard Amata use a curse word.
"Say, how about me and you head for a shake when it's over and we can talk then. Deal," I say, holding out my hand mockingly. Amata pretends to think about it for a minute with a finger over her lips as she smiles.
"Chocolate fudge," she asks. I smile, already thinking that was the price.
"Chocolate fudge," I echo. She grabs hold of my hand and I pull her into a waltz twirl. She laughs as she spins into the classroom. I sit in the chair in the corner, Amata taking the one in front of me. We chat idly for a few minutes, making small talk waiting for the classroom to fill up. I see Butch stumble through the door, his eyes red puffy. I fail to hold back a smirk.
"Alright class, settle down. Time for the G.O.A.T. Now," Says Mr Brotch as he puts down two sheets of paper on everyones desk. "I'm sure you've all heard the horror stories so there's only one thing left for me to say: be honest, otherwise you'll get stuck doing something you hate for the rest of your life."
The way he says that, I get the feeling that someone tried to be a smart ass on his G.O.A.T.
Behind me, Brotch fires up the projector and turns down the lights. "Okay, I'll read out the question once and then you have two minutes to answer. If you forget the question, I'll read it out again. You are not allowed to talk during the G.O.A.T. If you leave for any reason during the G.O.A.T, your test is void. Now, turn over your papers and put your names at the top."
With that, the test that will determine my life begins.
A picture comes on screen of a mad scientist type with the Vault-boy - who's kinda a Vault mascot - looking nervous. I know the feeling.
"Question one: You are approached by a frenzied Vault scientist, who yells, "I'm going to put my quantum harmonizer in your photonic resonation chamber!" What's your response?"
I look at the options on my paper before selecting the first. Placing a quantum harmonizer inside a photonic resonation chamber would cause a parabolic destabilisation of the fission singularity.
Okay, so this might be a bit easier than I thought. The next slide shows Vault boy in a doctors uniform, with a man sitting on the table in front of him. What sets this man apart is the mushrooms and fungus growing on his leg. Strange...
"Question two: While working as an intern in the Clinic, a patient with a strange infection on his foot stumbles through the door. The infection is spreading at an alarming rate, but the doctor has stepped out for a while. What do you do?"
Obviously I'm going to medicate the infected area to the best of my ability. What kinda creep watches what happens? As I wait, I scratch my leg. Wonder what I'd do if mushrooms started growing on my leg...
"Question three: You discover a young boy lost in the lower levels of the Vault. He's hungry and frightened, but also appears to be in possession of stolen property. What do you do?"
The next slide is of Vault Boy standing in front of a small kid who looks terrified. Again, I consult my options. All of them seem heartless except the top one, "Give the boy a hug and tell him everything will be OK", so I pick that one. The next slide is of Vault boy doing various sports.
"Question four: Congratulations! You made one of the Vault 101 baseball teams! Which position do you prefer?"
I don't even consider the other options, hitter all the way.
The next slide is of Vault boy sitting with an old lady, who holds out a gun for him to take. Above them theirs a speech bubble of Vault boy killing someone.
"Question five: Your grandmother invites you to tea, but you're surprised when she gives you a pistol and orders you to kill another Vault resident. What do you do?"
I cock my head to the side? What kinda question is that? And the options aren't a lot better... Ask for a minigun, throw tea in grannies face? What kind of question is this? I'm tempted to throw tea in my hypothetical grannies face... But... I'd do anything for family. If Dad asked me to?
I check the first box.
The next slide is a picture of an old man in a wheelchair, a door and Vault boy.
"Question six: Old Mr. Abernathy has locked himself in his quarters again, and you've been ordered to get him out. How do you proceed?"
Why the hell do I have to get Abernathy? And why's he got to get out? I'd use a bobby pin to get the door open, though I'm tempted to leave the old man to rot.
There's another slide of vault boy, this time looking shocked as a third arm grows out of his chest. In the background there's a canister with a radiation symbol on it.
"Question seven," says Mr Brotch, sounding thoroughly bored. "Oh, no! You've been exposed to radiation, and a mutated hand has grown out of your stomach! What's the best course of treatment?"
I snicker slightly at that. I doubt that radiation would grow a whole new set of veins, arteries, skin, bones, sinew etc. Maybe disease what's there... Hmm, do I cut off the arm with a laser, or take anti-mutagens... Anti-mutagens may prove to be ineffective, but a precision laser may prove unwise. Without proper study, I have no idea what...
Why am I analysing this so much?
I flip a mental coin.
"Mutagens it is," I mutter under my breath as I check the box.
This time vault boy is lying back, thinking about a comic, Grognak. Behind him is another vault dweller, reading the comic.
"Question eight: A fellow Vault 101 resident is in possession of a Grognak the Barbarian comic book, issue number 1. You want it. What's the best way to obtain it?"
Again, I don't even think. Grognak comics in good condition are rare in the vault, and every kid knows if you want one, you gotta trade.
The next slide is a picture of an open door. On one side is Vault Boy, looking like he's trying to sneak in. On the other, an older figure is walking away.
"Question nine: You decide it would be fun to play a prank on your father. You enter his private restroom when no one is looking, and..."
I think about that one. I wouldn't be able to convince Dad he was taking sugar pills even if he had high blood pressure. He's the doctor around here after all. I'm not about to blow up my toilet, I'd be grounded for a week, if I was incredibly lucky. I'd be tempted to mess with his razor, but he doesn't shave that often, I'd probably forget I've done it. Anyway, I'd think that messing with the pipes is the safer option.
"Question ten: Who is indisputably the most important person in Vault 101: He who shelters us from the harshness of the atomic wasteland, and to whom we owe everything we have, including our lives?" I hear Brotch sigh after that one and I can see why.
All the answers are "The Overseer". So, subtlty is not his thing eh? I randomly check one and sit back, shaking my head.
Just some stupid test indeed.
"Alright, that's all of it. Put your pens down and come and hand the papers in at my desk," Brotch says, moving to sit as his desk. In front of it, we all form a line, I'm close to the back with Amata.
"What did you put for number ten," I tease. She smiles over her shoulder, but it's forced. Her dad's always been a bit of a touchy subject, even since we were kids. I take a step back to give her some space.
Everyone except Freddy Gomez, who looks around panicked, hand our papers to the front and leave. I'm last and see Mr Brotch's eyes widen. My stomach does a backflip and lands somewhere next to my bladder.
"What is it," I ask, nervousness lacing my voice.
"It's just..." Brotch lets out a breath of disbelief before placing the paper on the desk. "Huh. I wonder who will be brave enough to be your first customer as the vault's new Tattoo Artist? I promise it won't be me."
I smile, relieved. "Artist? That's it?"
"Well, if it's not something you want," Brotch begins but I raise my hands.
"No no no, that's great. That's... perfect." I say with a huge smile. I can be a tattoist, I'm great artist. "Thanks sir."
"My pleasure." He smiles at me, fixing his glasses. I move to the door, a huge grin plastered onto my face. Amata, who was looking pensive by the door, sees me and looks in confusion. I put my arm over her shoulder.
"So, what are your feelings on tattoos?" I ask as we walk away from the classroom.
"Uhh," she responds.
"Perfect, you can be my first customer. But before I set up shop, how about those shakes..."
And with that, we walk to get our shakes.
So that's our prologue, let me know what you think.