May 30th, 2071, Vault 101

The alarm blared at 6:30 in the morning to wake me up. After over a decade of that same intrusive tone being the first sound of the day, I usually responded with a groan. But today was different. Today, classes were over, and it would stay that way until August. I leaped out of bed and put on a fresh Vault 101 jumpsuit before brushing my teeth in the men's bathroom. Only a handful of apartments in Vault 101 had actual bathrooms, so bathrooms were shared, but at least families got their own showers.

The cafeteria was only quarter-full even with the entire Vault population occupying it. It was no secret to anyone that Vault 101 had been designed to hold 1000 residents and that the current population had been reduced to little over 200. It seemed even smaller when you realized that a lot of people were related in some way. For instance, the two biggest families in the Vault; the Kendalls and the Macks, were related by blood. Two of Stanley Armstrong's three daughters, Mary Kendall and Gloria Mack, were the mothers of most of the children I knew. All in all, I could count about ten people who were related to Stanley, the head of maintenance. My head hurt whenever I thought about it, and I was always making mental notes to draw up a family tree or something.

The minors of the Vault were already wide awake to enjoy the 'summer break' as it was called. Of course, there was no such thing as summer or winter down here, it was just what they used to call the end of the school year before the Great War.

My best friend, Amata, was sitting with Christine Kendall. Since there were only three girls in the class, Christine was the only girl Amata was really friends with. I didn't mind Christine. She was nice enough (and more than pretty enough), but she never really took much interest in me. I approached the table, and Christine in her everlasting lack of interest, said to Amata, "See you later."

"Nice to see you too," I muttered sarcastically to Christine's back. Amata giggled.

"Don't take it personally," she said as I sat down. "She just doesn't think it could work between you two."

"What do you mean?" I asked, sitting down. "She's barely ever spoken to me."

"So you are interested in her?" said Amata, smirking.

"You're never gonna let that joke die, are you?" I said with a sigh. Amata had never let me hear the end of that one joke I made during my tenth birthday party.

"Bet you can't guess what I got you for your birthday!"

"Uh... a date with Christine Kendall?"

"Gross! I didn't even think you liked girls!"

She'd never forgotten that one.

"Do you have to do work today?" Amata asked.

"A few hours of maintenance with Stanley, and that's all for today. What did I do to piss your dad off this time?"

"Nothing, probably. He just..."

Amata trailed off, and look uncertain.

"What?" I asked, motioning for her to go on.

"Well," she said hesitantly. "I think it's your father. I've heard my dad telling him off for doing some king of experiment on water samples or something like that. He threatened to throw your dad out of the Vault."

"Surely not!" I said in disbelief. Not even the overbearing Overseer would throw a human being out of the Vault. Was that even possible? I'd only caught a glimpse of the big Vault door once. It was cog-shaped and, by the look of the machine hanging from the wall behind it and the treads next to the door, was meant to slide backward and to the side to allow for entry or exit. But could it even open? And if so, what would happen? They always told us that the surface was too irradiated for human life to exist, so would all the radiation just flown in and kill us all?

Amata snapped me out of my thoughts by saying, "Ryan, please don't do anything dangerous. I know how my father can be, but he can be even worse when he thinks he has too. And he's certainly not going to be frightened by a thirteen-year-old."

July 31st, 2274, Vault 101

I'd been losing more and more sleep by the night, and waking up in a state of panic. Even after minutes of calming down, I was always leaving the apartment with my hair uncombed and my jumpsuit half unzipped. No matter how much time I spent with Amata, or buried in a book, or secretly firing my BB gun in the makeshift target room my dad had made for me as a birthday gift, I couldn't calm myself. In three days, I'd be finding out the job I'd be doing down in the Vault for the rest of my life.

All anyone in the class had been talking about for days was the goddamned G.O.A.T. It was always G.O.A.T this or G.O.A.T that. All it did was remind me of how goddamned boring it was to live in a glorified hole in the ground. That was all a Vault was, really; a glorified hole buried under the surface to protect from the horrors that had occured on Ocbtober 23rd, 2077, when the two-hour long war left the planet burned by nuclear fire. Throw in a few bits of pre-war furniture and technology, and you had a decent living space. The only downside was that you, and your children, and their children, would never see the surface. You'd be born in the Vault, live in the Vault, and die in the Vault.

Everyone who wasn't part of Butch DeLoria's stupid Tunnel Snakes gang was anxious, including Amata. I'd seen her in the classes leading up to our exams. Her hands were always shaking and sweaty, which made her writing nearly unreadable. Mr Brotch had had the decency to not point it out in front of the class, which was a relief. Those goddamn Tunnel Snakes would tease her for anything they could. And they were always pressing me for dirt to use on her. She'd told me once that she was sensitive over her weight, to which I replied, "Don't be. The last thing you want is to be starving yourself to stay thin."

Every time they came near me, pestering me for something to hold over her head, I'd give them the finger and tell them to fuck off. Still, they always came back.

I started feeling sick to my stomach after every meal, and struggled to keep food down. My father gave me a few pills that were meant to help with digestion, but those came up with the revolting mix of food. Finally, nobody bothered to do anything but wait for it to be over.

August 3rd, 2274, Vault 101

I handed the finished G.O.A.T paper to Mr. Brotch, who looked it over carefully and said, "Apparently you're management material. You're going to be trained as a Shift Supervisor."

He rubbed his chin and continued, "Could I be talking to the next Overseer? Stranger things have happened. You can go now, Ryan."

Yeah, that's real likely, I thought sarcastically.

As I left the room, I heard Wally Mack bragging about how he knew how to get his ideal job. In response Mr. Brotch said, "Well I'll be damned, that little so and so. Wish I'd thought of that when I was sixteen."

I had to hide a laugh at that. Mr. Brotch was good at being funny without intending it.

"What did you get?" Amata asked in the cafeteria afterwards.

"Shift Supervisor," I said, without much enthusiasm. "Guess it could be worse."

"Hey, that's not so bad," Amata offered, taking a bite from her sandwich. "Besides, you can order people to call you 'boss'!"

Little did I know that I'd one day be in charge of more than just shifts.

"Hey, wake up!" someone said. "Ryan, you need to wake up!"

My eyes opened, then blinked at the light above me.

"Huh?" I said, sitting up on my bed. "Amata?"

"You got to get up," Amata said urgently, "Now."

"Hmm, that's weird," I joked. "I was just dreaming about you."

Amata sighed. "This isn't a joke. My dad's gone insane!"

I dropped the stupid smile off my face immediately, and stood up. "What's going on?"

"My dad... he's locked himself in his officer with a few security guards," Amata said quickly. "He was arguing with your father or something, and Jonas tried to intervene, and Officer Mack..."

She didn't need to finish. I understood.

"So what's happening now?" I asked, after a solemn silence. As if in response, the sounds of shouting and rioting drifted over, along with the occasional gunshot.

"Apparently one of the Officers leaked reports on my father's terminal from about 30 years ago," Amata explained. "I didn't read them, but Butch says they mention a security team leaving the Vault and visiting a nearby town."

I frowned. "That's... not possible," I said. "Unless..."

"Unless what we've been told isn't true," Amata finished, grimacing. "If those reports are true, then we've been lied to our entire lives."

I paused, trying to comprehend the thought. We'd always been told that the surface was too irradiated for life to exist, and would remain that way long after we died. Now, the idea that it had been a lie, that all the hopelessness of living in a Vault had been unnecessary. It was a strange thought.

The sounds of shouting brought me back to reality. I made out the voice of Butch DeLoria screaming, "Help! My mom's being attacked!"

I gave a half-hearted groan, but got up to see what was happening nonetheless. I wasn't going to do Butch any favors, but his mother Ellen had always been good to me.

"Please, you gotta help me!" Butch said the minute he saw me. "My mom's trapped in our apartment with a bunch of radroaches!"

Despite the situation, I couldn't keep the small smirk off my face. "Butch asking me for help? I'm shocked."

"Yeah whatever," Butch said desperately. "Are you gonna help me or not?"

"Okay, fine Butch. Lead the way."

Butch led me over to his apartment, Amata trailing behind us. I heard a scream coming from the room. Looking in the window, I saw Ellen DeLoria struggling to fend off three of the ugly brown roaches. I didn't hesitate to run into the room.

"Hold still!" I said to her, whacking each radroach off of her with my arm. I stomped on them for good measure.

"Thank you," said Ellen weakly. "Come over and have a drink with me."

"Thanks, but I'm good," I replied. I'd tried alcohol once when I turned 18, and immediately disliked it, even more so when I saw Allen Mack after getting drunk.

"We did it!" Butch exclaimed like a child, "My mom's gonna be okay! You're the best friend I ever had, man!"

While I stood there in amazement, Butch went over to the dresser and pulled out something. When he handed it to me, I saw that it was a Tunnel Snakes jacket.

"I know it's not much," admitted Butch. "But I want you to have it. And Amata, I'm sorry for all the shit I've given you. I swear I'll drop the act."

"Uh...thanks Butch," Amata replied awkwardly while I laughed. Despite the situation, my spirits were lifted. Butch and I had been enemies since we were kids, and now he was calling me a friend. As a sign of thanks, I donned the fancy leather jacket.

"Man, I don't look to bad in this," I joked, looking at my reflection in the window.

"Yeah, we just need to fix up the hair!" Butch added, laughing. Amata rolled her eyes.

"You two done?"

"Yeah yeah," Butch said. "Alright, follow me to the diner, you guys. The others are all there."

The 'others' turned out to be Paul Hannon Jr, Christine Kendall, Officer Gomez and his son Freddie, Stanley, and Susie Mack. As well as Andy, the Vault's resident Mr Handy robot.

"Yo Butch!" said Paul immediately. "Why are these two losers with you?"

"Hey, easy brother," Butch replied, "These guys are cool with us."

"If you say so Butch."

"So what's happening?" I asked, to nobody in particular. "And where's my dad?"

The others looked at each other. Christine and Susie exchanged a sad glance. Something wasn't right...

"Guys," I said, fearing what they'd tell me. "Where is my father?"

"I'm sorry, Ryan," said Susie Mack, "The Overseer has him."

Without a word, I turned to leave with the intention of confronting the Overseer, but Butch blocked my way. "Whoa, slow down! Security's not gonna just let you waltz on up to the Overseer's office. They got the entire atrium locked down."

"I saw it too," piped up Susie Mack. "My idiot brothers are up there guarding the place with guns. Thank God I inherited my mother's decency."

"I tried to tell my father not to go up there," added Christine. "But he wouldn't listen! Kept going on about his 'duty' to the Overseer!"

I lowered myself into a booth, holding my head in my hands, feeling like my entire world was crumbling around me. Jonas was dead, my father was being held captive by the Overseer, and I'd been lied to my entire life.

I felt a comforting hand on my shoulder, and looked up to see Officer Gomez. "Hang in there kid," he told me. "We'll get through this."

"Is it true?" I asked him. "About the outside?"

Gomez gave a small sigh, and nodded.

"I've felt sick to my stomach for years," Stanley spoke up. "Having to lie to my own grandchildren. It's horrible, what the Overseer's done to us."

I slowed down my breathing and clutched the table for support. When I felt calm enough, I stood back up and said, "So what happens now?"

"My dad's been talking with Officer Kendall on the intercom," explained Freddie. "Kendall's been reasonable at least. He says we should just turn ourselves in before we make things worse."

"John means well," Gomez said. "But he doesn't think twice about the orders he's given. In fact, most of the Security Officers have that problem."

"Well, we obviously can't stay down here forever," I said.

"Yeah, but we do we do?" Paul countered. "Officer Kendall is the only one up there who won't shoot us on sight, and the Overseer has your dad and a few others held captive. He's already had Jonas killed-"

"Well, he did a lousy job," said a weak voice from behind me. I turned around to see Jonas, my father's assistant. His white lab coat was covered in blood, his glasses were cracked, and he was leaning on the wall to remain upright, a massive crimson cut on his forehead.

"Jesus Christ," I said as Stanley and Gomez held Jonas lie down on the diner seat. "I thought they'd beaten the life out of you."

"They almost did," rasped Jonas. "But Officer Mack was too busy being enraged to check if he'd finished the job. They took James up to the office."

I finally noticed the alarms blaring faintly, and the busted speaker built into the wall above the door.

"What we need," I finally said. "is for the Security Guards to back off so that we can have a face-to-face confrontation with the Overseer."

"Yeah, good luck with that," replied Butch. "The Overseer's ordered everyone back to their quarters and said that anyone who doesn't obey will be shot. The only option is to try and jump the guards in the atrium."

"That's suicide Butch," piped up Susie. "They've got N99's and we'e got what? Nuka Cola bottles?"

"Susie's right, Butch," I added. "Charging in there is only gonna get people killed. We need to be diplomatic. So who's least likely to get shot up there?"

Everyone's eyes immediately went to Amata, who sighed. "Of course."

"The Overseer is your father," Gomez pointed out. "Out of all of us, you're the only one who even has a chance of getting through to him. I'll go up with you; I might be able to keep the officers at bay."

"So this is the plan?" Christine asked, unimpressed. "You two?"

"Well..." Gomez hesitated. "I guess I could use another guy up there, but I'm the only one here with firearm training."

"That's not exactly true," I said slowly, standing up. "My dad gave me a BB gun when I was ten, and I've been using it for years. I know it's not the real thing, but it's the best I got."

Gomez hesitated, biting his lip. Then, finally, he said. "It'll do, I guess. Alright, take this, and don't use it unless you have too."

He handed me a second N99 and 30 10mm rounds.

"Gomez, what the hell is this?" said Officer Richards as we reached the aitrum. "Why the hell did you give that kid a gun?!"

"Easy, Richards," said Gomez, holding his hands out. "These two are with me. We're going to talk to the Overseer. Just don't shoot us, and nobody needs to get hurt."

Richards sighed and holstered his weapon. As we moved past him, he told us, "The Overseer's gone mad. He's in the jail with the doctor. Be careful up there."

I tried not to look afraid as we crossed over the staircase leading to the upper floor, but it was difficult when the officer's all had their guns trained on me. I was glad to get to the safety of the stairwell, which was covered.

"Don't make any sudden moves," Gomez told us as we made our way to the jail cell. "Follow my lead, and we'll get through this."

We passed through the maintenance room, and I saw the body of Floyd Lewis, one of our engineers, lying by a control console and covered in radroach bites.

"Jesus Christ," I muttered as we walked past.

The Overseer had locked himself in the security office with Officer Steve Mack and Security Chief Hannon, along with his hostages; my father, Mary Kendall (Christine's mother), Beatrice Armstrong (Stanley's daughter), and Mary Holden.

"Please, we didn't do anything!" Mary Kendall was saying. "Let us talk to them! They're just scared!"

"They are traitors to the Vault!" the Overseer snapped, brandishing a pistol. "Selfish and insubordinate!"

"Alphonse, think about this for a minute," my dad reasoned. "Just stop this before more people get hurt!"

"You will address me by my proper title, Dr Moore!" the Overseer said. "You never did have any respect for authority. I should never have let you and your brat son into this Vault!"

I frowned. What did he mean? We'd both been born in the Vault, right?

I wasn't able to dwell on the thought for long, because Gomez had opened the door and stepped inside the room. Mack raised his gun.

"Stand down Mack!" Gomez warned, bring his pistol up, as did I. "We don't want trouble!"

"And yet you bring this brat-" the Overseer pointed at me. "-up here? And Amata, what are you doing here? Go wait in my office where it's safe."

"No dad," Amata replied, shaking her head, "This has to stop."

"We want the fighting to end," I said firmly. "I know about the scouting reports on your terminal. You've been lying to us our entire lives!"

"Yes, I have!" the Overseer shot back. "For the safety of this Vault, I ensured that nobody would compromise our security by trying to leave!"

"'For the safety of the Vault'?" Amata said in astonishment. "Shooting people for being fed up with your rules? Is that for safety?!"

"Yes Amata, it is," the Over replied firmly. "When you're Overseer, you'll see that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, and I will not compromise the safety of the Vault because a few people fancy a wasteland vacation!"

"The Vault won't survive like this!" my dad spoke up while everyone turned to listen. "Our population has dropped in the last two hundred years, Alphonse. We've got maybe a generation left before people starting inbreeding, and that's going to be more trouble than what's outside the Vault!"

The Overseer kept his scowl on, but under it, I saw a glimmer of doubt enter his eye.

"We've spent our entire lives in here Dad," Amata said. "We're tired of it. There's an entire world out there that we won't see unless something changes. For better or for worse, please just let us make our own choices."

The Overseer stood rooted to the spot. The anxiety in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Nobody dared to breath. Finally, the Overseer lowered his gun.

"Well..." he muttered in a defeated way. "Perhaps I have been too overbearing-"

BANG. BANG. BANG.

Gomez went down clutching shoulder, his jumpsuit turning crimson. I pulled Amata down with me to dodge the hail of gunfire, and I saw Allen and Wally Mack firing 10mm rounds randomly.

"No! Hold your fire!" the Overseer shouted in vain. I kept my head down, gripping Amata's hand in my own. Finally, the gunfire stopped.

Let it be over. Please let it be over.

"Ryan? Get up, we have to go."

Someone pulled me to my feet. I lifted my head up and saw that it was my father. People moved around me, their faces indistinguishable. I made out the Overseer and Gomez, both lying face down and groaning. Gomez had suffered a wound to his left shoulder, but was letting out a quiet groan. The Overseer was holding his side in pain. Through his hands I could see a gash going through his jumpsuit. A bullet has brushed him.

"Oh God..." Amata said shakily, running over to her injured father. "James... please help him!"

"It's not bad," the Overseer told his daughter. "Just hurts like hell."

Stanley and Officer Kendall came rushing into the room to help Gomez while my father helped the Overseer onto his feet.

The clinic was deserted when we arrived, carrying the injured Overseer and Gomez with us.

"Ryan," my father said as Stanley and Kendall lowered Gomez onto a bed. "You deal with the Overseer. I'll patch up Gomez."

My father had secretly, and without the Overseer's permission, taught me all he could about handling wounds. I helped him lower the Overseer into a chair, and checked the wound.

"Can you help him?" asked Amata in a terrified voice, kneeling beside her father.

"He'll be fine," I told her reassuringly. "The bullet only grazed him."

For a graze wound, there was a lot of blood. I cleaned and bandaged the wound, and gave him Med-X for the pain.

"You'll be alright," I reported finally, standing up. "The best thing you can do right now is rest. Can you stand?"

"Yeah, I think so..." the Overseer said weakly, pushing himself out of the chair. I frowned, wondering if the injury was more serious than I'd thought.

No point worrying about it now, a voice inside of me said. Just do what you can.

The Overseer made his way over to the chair while Amata and I stood by, ready to steady him should his legs fail him. He made his way to the clinic bed without trouble, and lay down, letting out a sigh of relief before drifting off to sleep.

"Thank you," Amata said, pulling me aside. "I know how terrible my dad has been to you over the years, and you helped him anyway. I can't thank you enough."

"It was the right thing to do," I told her. It was a principle I'd always lived with; all life is precious, even if it seems squandered.

We heard footsteps approaching, and turned to see Freddie Gomez running towards the clinic.

"My father?" he asked breathlessly.

"He's fine, Freddie," I assured him. "My dad's working on him now. Best to just give him some room."

"Actually, I'm already done," my father had materialized in the clinic doorway. "Best to just let him rest for now."

More and more people arrived to hear about the Overseer and Gomez. Christine Kendall, Butch, Susie Mack, Paul Hannon, Beatrice Armstrong, the entire Vault Security team (excluding Steve Mack), and Mr Brotch all showed up for news.

"They're both fine!" I said, getting exasperated after what must have been the sixth time. "So can anyone tell me what happened?"

"Allen and Steve Mack stormed the security office when they heard shouting," Officer Park told me. "Steve and Allen are holed up by the entrance, and God knows where Wally is."

I'd forgotten about Wally Mack, the third of the Tunnel Snakes. He'd always been the most unpleasant of the three, detested even by his own sister. His father Allen and brother Steve were just as bad. Steve had easily been the most sadistic of Vault 101's Security team. Allen Mack had had a drinking problem for as long as anyone could remember, as it was widely known that the violent shouting that occasionally rang through the Vault's upper level came from the Mack family apartments.

"So what happens now?" I asked Officer Kendall after the crown departed.

Kendall considered the question for a moment. "Well," he said finally. "We can probably assume that Alphonse Almodovar's time as Overseer is over. He knows he did wrong, and maybe he does care for this Vault in his own way, but we need a leader who can make rational decisions and listen to reason in tense situations. I know Alphonse always envisioned Amata stepping up to the role, but I'm not sure she's ready."

"Why not?"

"Well she's only nineteen, for one thing," Kendall pointed out. "Although age isn't the biggest concern. She's a little bit too emotional. We need someone with the mental capacity to keep a cool head in the most stressful situations."

He gave me a funny look, which told me everything I had to know.

"Me?" I said through fits of laughter. "Really? I'd be a shit Overseer!"

"So sure about that?" Kendall said with a small smile. "Your father was held hostage, and from what I've heard you kept a level head through it all. I think you'd make a great Overseer."

Two loud gunshots brought us back to reality. I heard screaming down the hall, and people running in all directions. At the far end, firing his N99 wildly, was Steve Mack.

"Mack!" Kendall shouted, his gun raised. "Put the gun down!"

Steve looked for a moment like he hadn't heard him, but after a moment, he dropped the gun to the floor, glowering at Kendall.

"Just hold still Mack," Kendall warned as a crowd formed around the scene. "Everyone step back please!"

Nobody bothered to obey or enforce that rule. Security guards arresting security guards wasn't something that happened frequently in the Vault. In fact, I couldn't remember ever hearing about something of the sort happening in the last 200 years.

Kendall stepped around Mack to cuff him, but Mack stuck his foot out to the side and tripped Kendall. In barely and second, Mack had picked up the gun and aimed it widely at any target, who turned out to be...Amata.

Without thought, I charged forward, knocking Mack off-balance right as he discharged the gun. Mack staggered against the wall and fell to the floor. What I did next seemed more like animal instinct that a rational decision. I quickly grabbed the discarded pistol, placed the barrel of the gun over Mack's forehead, and fired a single shot. A tidal wave of red covered me, and I heard several people scream. I stood there, blinking blood out of my eyes, and let the gun fall out of my limp hand.

"Ryan..." said someone.

I turned around, my eyes resting on Amata, who looked as shocked as I felt. Then, I saw Paul Hannon next to her, his eyes wide, clutching at the gunshot wound in his stomach, from which blood was dripping.

"Oh God," I managed to whisper. What had I done?

"Move! Out of the way!" shouted a voice I did not want to hear. Security Chief Paul Hannon, Paul Jr's father. He pushed through the crowd, stopping like a 'deer caught in headlights' (as the old saying goes) at the scene. Paul Hannon Jr had collapsed, and now lay still, a dark red stain spreading around him. Security Chief Hannom's face turn from one of shock to sorrow to rage, all in a matter of seconds. He rounded on me.

"You've murdered my son," he hissed, venom in every word. "You're dead, you little shit!"

I couldn't even react to Hannon raising his baton and bringing it down on me, hitting me across the face. I went down, my face stinging. I registered, in my dazed state, sounds of shouting and fighting. Then the world went back and I passed out.

I awoke on a clinic bed later on, staring up at the cold steel ceiling. The lights had been repaired, and everything was silent. My head throbbed, and I raised a hand groggily my forehead. I tried to sit up, but the entire room seemed to move around. I closed my eyes, that helped.

"Hello?" I called out.

"Ah," said a weak voice. "You're awake."

When I felt confident enough I opened my eyes and looked for the source of the voice.

"What happened?" I asked.

"I can't remember the details," the Overseer replied. "But James told me you blacked out while he was struggling with Hannon. Good God, that man looked insane."

He shuddered slightly. "Amata was here earlier."

"When?" I asked him.

"Yesterday."

I frowned. How long had I been out?

"How's she feeling?"

"Better," the Overseer told me, sitting up. "She was a bit shaken by what happened, but she's glad that nobody else died."

He rubbed his forehead a bit and continued, "I guess I owe you my thanks as well. Had Allen and Steve Mack not chosen to run gung-ho into the situation, we might have come to a peaceful solution. I've had a lot of time to think and...well... I've decided that it would be best if I stepped down as Overseer."

"I don't understand, sir," I said politely. I could already guess where he was going with this.

"There's no need to call me 'sir' anymore. Alphonse will do."

"I don't understand... Alphonse," I corrected myself. It was very odd to be addressing the former Overseer by his first name.

Don't you see, Ryan?" Alphonse said. "You showed me the biggest error I made as Overseer; I was so certain that isolation and social engineering was the only way to keep this Vault safe that I became disconnected from the people I thought I was saving. I prevented them from living like humans were meant to, and almost destroyed our community in the process. I never would have imagined it, but letting you into the Vault saved us."

I frowned, remembering what Alphonse had said to my father. He picked up on my silence.

"Ah, I see he didn't tell you," he said. "Well, I'm not the right person to tell you. That's a discussion for you and your father to have. Right now, we have other matters."

"Hannon," I said immediately, "I doubt he's security chief after what happened."

Alphonse nodded. "Since the Vault doesn't have an Overseer at the moment, that leaves two positions open. A three-person council has formed to deal with the leadership issue, but it's only a short-term solution. What this Vault needs is a new Overseer, and soon."

"Will the council elect the Overseer?"

"Dear God no," Alphonse said, scoffing. "The recent riot proved that the people shouldn't have their voices dismissed so easily. My successor will be elected by popular vote, like the old democratic nations did."

He paused, as if unsure whether or not to continue, then said. "There's a lot of people considering you for the position."

This was getting familiar.

"Funny thing is," I told him. "Officer Kendall told me I'd make a good Overseer right before Mack opened fire."

"He's not wrong," noted Alphonse. "You acted quickly to a situation that would leave most people rooted to the spot. What you did took guts, which is one thing any leader should have."

I wasn't sure how to respond to any of it. Finally, I said, "You've detested me for years, and now you're reccomending me as Overseer instead of your daughter?"

"Like I said," Alphonse replied, lying back down on his bed. "I've been doing a lot of thinking. I've become to disconnected with my daughter. Perhaps it would be better if neither of us held the position, so that we might be able to communicate as human beings."

The door opened with a hiss, and my father walked in.

"Ah, you're awake," he said with a smile. "How do you feel?"

"Like I've been hit with a hammer," I replied. "But I'm okay."

"I figured you would," James said. "Alphonse, have you told him?"

"Yeah," the Overseer replied. "He knows."

"Know what?" I asked, ignoring the fact that James and the former Overseer were on a first name basis now.

"The election," my father replied. "I'm assuming you know that more than a few people want you to take the position of Overseer?"

"So I've been told," I replied. "How long was I out?"

"3 days," my father replied. "The election's in a couple of days. You should be walking by then."

Actually, I was walking by that afternoon. I didn't go far; only around the clinic for a few minutes. My head still throbbed a little, but that was the least of my worries. I spent my time considering what Alphonse and my father had said. I didn't quite know what to think about the idea of becoming Overseer. It was an interesting thought, but I'd never considered it a possibility. Now that that was changing, I had to actually think about if I wanted it. There was a reason you didn't just get given the position of Overseer, after all. It wouldn't be an easy job, and I had no idea if I could actually live up to the position. I understood that people had confidence in me because of what happened during the roach infestation, but would I be able to make a decision, knowing that my actions could doom everyone in the Vault? I shuddered at the thought.

Amata came to visit the day after I woke up. She looked tired, and a bit sickly, but smiled when she saw me awake.

"It's good to see you," she said, the exhaustion obvious in her voice. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," I admitted. "Walking's not a problem now, and my dad says the headache should be gone by tomorrow."

"That's good to hear. Listen, can we talk in private?"

"Sure," I said, a little confused. I pulled myself onto my feet, and followed her out. Amata stayed close, maybe worried that I'd fall over, but walking was fine now. As we left, I could have sworn I'd seen her father give her a warning look.

"So what's up?" I asked, leaning on the wall to steady myself.

"You've heard that I've been acting as Overseer until a permanent leader is chosen?" she asked me.

I nodded. "How are you holding up?"

She sighed, and said, "It's exhausting, but someone had to do it. Anyway, I was going through the Overseer's terminal up in the office, and I found those supposed scouting reports."

"So it's true then?" I said. "The world really is survivable?"

Yes," admitted Amata. "I ran my own tests to be sure. The air outside is breathable, and there are only small pockets of radiation in the vicinity. My dad... he..."

She looked betrayed. "He lied to us."

I was about to agree with her, but instead I said, "Could your father have simply been wrong?"

"No," she replied, shaking her head. "He's smarter than that. He knew it was safe to go out there and he lied. What was he thinking?!"

I glanced over at the clinic, fearful that her father had heard. Evidently not.

Amata, I..."

"I just don't get it!" she said, looking tearful. "How could he lie to us, and me, like this?"

I put a hand on her shoulder. Her breathing was heavy, her chest rising and falling. I was stunned; I'd never seen her like this.

"Listen," I said. "When I woke up yesterday, your dad mentioned that he felt his role as Overseer was distancing you two from each other. Now on offense, I'm not the biggest fan of your father, but I think he really does care about you, and this Vault."

I pulled her closer into a hug. "I don't know what's going to happen, Amata. But I promise you that, no matter what, we'll stick together until the end."

I'd been on good terms with (almost) everyone in the Vault. Aside from Butch and his 'gang', I didn't have a problem with anyone else. But as the election approached, I found most people giving me small approving nods or wishing me luck. I'd finally decided that, for the sake of Amata and her father, to run for Overseer. If people wanted me to govern them, then how could I throw that back at them? These people were all I had and, with the prospect of a survivable wasteland outside, we'd all have to pull together for the Vault.

The only person who had gotten worse was Allen Mack. We'd both ignored each other mostly, and for good reason. Mack was short-tempered, and prone to act without thinking. The thought of him as Overseer frightened me. Not to mention, he was close with Paul Hannon, which didn't make the situation better.

On the day of the election, everyone of age was assembled in the cafeteria. I counted them. Apart from the Vault Security, there were only around 70-80 adults.

I took my seat at a table near the door, far away from Allen Mack and his supporters. There was chatter all around. Behind me, Amata and her father filed in and sat a good distance away, near the front of the room. We'd agreed that it would be best that we sit separately to avoid suspcion of bias. However, Amata did give me a small nod.

The two people who did sit at my table were my father and, of all people...

"Butch?" I said, astonished.

"Hey, teacher's pet," Butch greeted, sitting across from me. "Ready to become Overseer?"

"We don't know that yet, Butch, " James reminded him. "The votes haven't been announced yet."

"Yeah, but they have been cast," replied Butch. "And I know your son is way more popular than Allen Mack."

"Is anyone else even running?" I asked.

"Yeah, a few," Butch said with a shrug. "But they're little guys who think they can just gung-ho things. They've got no chance."

I frowned. Sure, I was excited to do something good for the Vault, but I couldn't help but feel a little sorry for those 'little guys' who thought that today would be their day. Over Butch's shoulder, Alphonse stood up.

"Can I have everyone's attention please!" he called out to silence the chatter, "Right, thank you. Now as a result of the recent infestation, I've been unable to return to my duties and will not be able to for some time. Furthermore, I've decided that being Overseer has made me disconnected from my own daughter, and the rest of you. It's for this reason that I've decided to hold this election, so that you may elect one of your own to govern this Vault. All votes have been cast and counted, and I would like the two candidates with the most votes each to stand.

"Ryan Moore and Allen Mack," he said. "Please stand."

I rose from my seat, as did Mack. Heads turned to look at the three of us.

"As Overseer of Vault 101," Alphonse continued. "It will be your duty to govern in the best interest of the Vault's inhabitants, and provide guidance when needed. You will be responsible for the lives of everyone within these walls. I warn you now, this is easier said than done. So it is for this reason that this is your last chance to back out."

I gave Mack a sideways glance. He stood still, as did I. He didn't so much as look at me. I turned my attention back to Alphonse.

"Very well, then," he said, drawing a note from his jumpsuit pocket. Clearing his throat, he read out the name of Vault 101's new Overseer.

"Ryan Moore."

The Vault dwellers rose in an indistinct sound of cheers and applause. I couldn't help but smile. These people had chosen me as their leader, entrusted me with their safety, and the safety of their children. I would not let them down.

"Congratulations, young man," Alphonse said, giving a small smile. This time, it was genuine. "I know you'll do this Vault well. Follow me, there are things we have to discuss."

I thanked everyone as I left, shook hands with everyone who offered theirs. I actually felt quite honored, in the midst of my dazed state. I followed Alphonse, Amata, and my father up the stairs to the balcony of the atrium.

"Over here to my- well, I guess it's your office now," Amata remarked.

The four of us filed in, and Alphonse gestured for me to sit in the chair behind the Overseer's desk. I sat, or rather, fell down into the seat.

"I knew you had it in you, son," my father told me, beaming. "I'm so proud of you."

"Hardly a surprising result," Alphonse told him. "He's probably one of the most well-liked people in the Vault."

He turned to me. "I'd say this calls for a celebration, but it will have to wait a day. Amata's told me of your conversation the other day. You know by now that the radiation levels outside the Vault have declined significantly, I take it?"

"Yes," I replied. "I've been considering what the best option is."

"And," Alphonse pushed. "What do you intend to do?"

"I see no other option but to open the Vault," I informed him, stunned at my own business-like tone. "This Vault had far more people in it 200 years ago than it did now. How long before we have to start pushing people into reproduction? And even then, there will be problems."

Alphonse sighed. "I suppose your right," he admitted. "As much as I dislike the prospect. My predecessor did make a handful of successful excursions into the Capital Wasteland- the Washington D.C area-in the 2240's, but they didn't go very far. All of our pre-war maps are useless, since most of the roads and towns existing before the war have all turned into rubble with time."

Amata stepped forward and said, "The scouting reports say that the closest settlement is a walled town called Megaton, south-east of here. The ruins of Springvale aren't far either."

"What about mutations?" I asked. "There are bound to be a few mutated species out there."

"The reports did mention giant ants of some kind," Amata recalled. "But it's been 30 years since those reports were made. Who knows what will be out there now?"

"We'll sort all that out in the coming days," I said. "Right now, I'm worried about the possibility of a radroach attack."

"I put Stanley to work fixing the vents, since that seems to be how they keep getting in," Amata told me. "He's almost got them fixed."

"Good," I said, nodding, "Anything else?"

"There is one other matter," Alphonse spoke up. "That of Security Chief Hannon."

I sighed. "Of course. How is he?"

"Enraged, which isn't surprising," said James, crossing his arms. "It's understandable. He didn't see what you see, after all. He saw you make a move on Steve Mack, which sadly resulted in the boy's death. That would tip most fathers over the edge."

"It's scary, the things he's saying," said Amata, shuddering. "Ryan, the things he said about you... and your mother... You wouldn't stand for it if you heard it."

I remember going rigid in my chair at the mention of the mother I'd never known, felt my blood boil at the thought of the hateful things Hannon must have been saying about her. But I put it aside. I couldn't lose my temper.

"I should talk to him," I said finally. "Apologize to him personally. I did kill his son- to an extent."

"I'd advise against that," James said. "He's bordering on insanity, judging from what I've seen."

"For once," Alphonse added hesitantly, "I agree with your father. Not to mention, he's capable of killing you with his fists."

"I won't be in the cell with him," I assured him. "And I owe it to him to at least explain why I did what I did. If what my father says is true, than I can't see him getting better."

"Well, it is your choice," Alphonse admitted. "Do what you think is best. Now, I expect they'll be throwing a party in the diner right about now. Care to join?"

"Sure, I'll be right down."

Alphonse went to leave with James and Amata, then stopped and turned back to me, taking something out of his pocket.

"Oh, I figured you should have these," he said, holding a yellowing piece of paper. "Vault-Tec's original instructions. Whether you follow them or not is your choice."

I took the 200-year-old paper from him and quickly read the paper over.

"Hmph," I muttered, unimpressed. "Good thing I'm not following these. We wouldn't last in isolation."