Chapter 1: Vault Fever
My eyes are wide open and unmoving. They focus exclusively on the ceiling above my head. Specifically, the electrical cable that runs along the roof for the entire length of my room.
My ears are alert and waiting for the slightest noise to tell me about what I already know is coming. I keep my breathing deep and even, as though I were still asleep. Waiting…waiting….NOW!!
I sprang from my bed as though I were on fire, crossed the length of my room in a smooth judo roll, rose to my feet in one fluid motion, and tagged the 'SNOOZE' button on my chronometer before the first shrill note of the buzzer could finish.
Another victory in the battle of life.
I smiled in spite of myself, pleased at besting the clock once again. No point in going back to sleep now though, I knew. The barracks inspector would be along soon with his huge copper bell, hoping to catch some student trying to sleep through first class.
That man needs a real job.
I'm a student at V23. That's Vault 23 for you muties who live up top. Yup, I'm a Vault dweller, though I don't particularly want to be one anymore. I've lived in V23 for all my 19 years. That's 6935 days. 166,440 hours. 9,986,400 minutes. To be blunt, too bloody long. It's been at least 20 years since the war that the old folks take every opportunity they have to tell us about happened. Actually, it's been a lot longer than that. My parents were just children themselves when they moved into V23. No one is sure just how long though. Awhile.
Anyhow, a lot of people my age say that it's time to open the Door and go up top again. Me? I think it wouldn't be a bad thing, no. I also don't think that people should be forced up top if they don't want to go. People like my parents and their friends have lived in V23 for a long time. They've made their lives here. Why would they want to leave?
I want to, though. I want to see what the sky looks like now. I've seen it before, in old holovids, but I've never actually seen it, you know? I want to touch real earth. The Earth. Sounds stupid, I know, but I can't stay in here anymore. Grow, mate, spawn, die. That's what'll happen to me if I stay in the Vault. I know it.
I've got to get to class now, 'for Leatherface takes attendance and sends the barracks inspector to wake me up. Don't know why I've started this journal. It's not like anyone is ever going to read it.
Signed,
Tarran Lee
76th day, 3rd Quarter, 43 V23C (Vault 23 Calendar)
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After the morning exercises, the students who were in their final year of schooling filed into their required old-Earth electronics class, taught by Vault 23's oldest resident, Larry 'Leatherface' Bodokin. Face, as he was known to most everyone when his back was turned, took his duties as instructor very seriously; so seriously that it was thought he hadn't yet died and gone into the recycling vats because he didn't trust anyone to take over his duties.
The quiet hum of conversation that had surrounded the students like a cloud of vapor died completely as they set foot inside Face's classroom. Regardless of what the students thought of him as a person, they accorded him respect while in his classroom.
Taking their seats, the students brought up their personal holo-screens and accessed the homework that Face had previously assigned to them; they then transferred their work to his main holo-screen, which took up the entire front wall, for marking. Almost instantly, a near-collective groan went up from the class as they got their marks back from Face's marking program.
"Now then, ladies and gentlemen, I told you this was a tricky assignment…hardly my fault if your ears didn't hear me…maybe you should be going to the sickbay for a check-up, hmmmm?" Face admonished the class, moving sprightly for a man of unknown, but assuredly ancient, age. He spoke while accessing the day's lesson on his holo-screen.
"Now then, most of you will be finished your schooling in the next few weeks. From there, you will move on to various departments in the Vault; Health, Recreation, Justice, Agriculture, and so on. I encourage you to consider a life with the Advancement Department; the pay is lousy, but the hours are good." This was a small joke from Face; no one in the Vault was paid, strictly speaking. Everyone worked according to what they were able to contribute, and everyone was entitled to an equal portion of the fruits of that work. This ensured that there were no homeless or poor families in the Vault. Innovation was encouraged, however. Any Vault Dweller who had an idea of how things should be done, or a service that they would like to provide to the rest of the Vault, was encouraged to speak at one of the monthly Vault meetings.
"With the Advancement Department," Face continued, now speaking to the class in his customary fashion; that is to say, pacing back and forth slowly, forcing the class' eyes to follow him, and using his hands to emphasize what he was saying, "you will have the greatest opportunity to contribute something new to the Vault. We are, literally, a group of people who do nothing but think all day. Ideas are our trade, and their successful implementation our profit. If you're interested, come and talk to me at the end of class. And now…"
While Face began the day's lecture, Tarran Lee, Marc Chapoutier, and Cory Shimit played a three-way game of Mutie Hunter, blasting each other to atoms with various weapons of personal destruction. All three already knew what Face was going to be discussing; Marc had tapped into Face's holo-screen three weeks previous to find out what would be discussed and assigned so that the three friends would be able to have their last few weeks together relatively work-free.
"You just drank a glass of my dripping green load, my new Mutie bitch." Cory silent messaged Lee, who'd just been blasted out of existence by Cory's radioactive waste launcher. By keeping the sound from their game routed to their headphones, the three managed to avoid detection by Face.
Flushing with good-natured anger, Lee silently vowed revenge and respawned into the game. Deciding to be particularly vicious with his friend, Lee went for the 'chainsaw' located in a remote area of the game level. The 'chainsaw' had been added to the game's substantial arsenal by members of the Advancement Department, after someone had read about the device in the Vault's library. It had been generally agreed by those in the Vault that it was a particularly nasty weapon, which made it perfect for Mutie Hunters.
Chainsaw in virtual hand, Lee made his way towards the sounds of battle, where he found Cory and Marc taking potshots at one another across a large chamber. Neither one of them had yet seen him, so he decided to try something a little fancy. As Cory was holed up on the other side of the chamber, there would be little chance of a mad rush working. Either Cory would nail Lee with his waste gun, or Marc would take the frag with his energy-based atomitizer, a popular weapon during WWIII, according to the little history that there was of it.
Running down a hallway parallel to Cory's position, Lee found what he was looking for; a staircase leading to a balcony directly above where Cory was defending himself from Marc's energy blasts. Looking down over the balcony's railing, Lee could see the top of Marc's virtual head. Through the personal character modeling offered by the Advancement Department, Cory's virtual self looked exactly like his real self; actually, his virtual self was a little more bulked up, but not according to Cory.
Lee leapt from the balcony's railing and landed behind Cory with a small thud. The sound wasn't loud enough to attract Cory's attentions, so Lee decided the best way to get him to turn around before being mauled was to outright tell him.
"Hey, Slughead. Turn around." Lee typed to his friend. He allowed Cory's character to turn around fully, just to be sure he could see what was coming, and then sliced his body in two at the waist.
As Cory's corpse hit the virtual tile floor, his blood spraying everything around him, Lee noticed something odd. Applause.
"I didn't know you'd get applause after fragging someone with the chainsaw…" Lee though, before the truth dawned on him.
Looking up at the main holo-screen at the front of the room, Lee saw the same image as was on his holo-screen. Cory's various innards were slowly sliding out even as his corpse dissolved as he respawned on a different portion of the level. The applause was coming from his fellow students, and, not surprisingly, Face himself too. He had an odd sense of humour.
"Excellent frag, Mr.Lee. Mr.Shimit, you should learn to watch your back. Do you gentlemen think I could possibly borrow you for just a few moments after class?"
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After the day's classes, and after their meeting with Leatherface, Lee, Marc, and Cory were walking back to barracks hurriedly.
"You think this meeting will be crashed by the JD too?" Marc asked anxiously. The meeting he was talking about was that of the New Earthers, a group of Vault Dwellers who wanted to leave the Vault and explore the planet. They had been meeting publicly for several months now, but it was only recently, when they started to get fully organized, that the Justice Department forced them to disperse whenever they met. Their ideas were seen as harmful to the Vault.
"Without a doubt. We've been telling everyone where this one will be, so there's no way that information hasn't gotten back to the JD. Hell, they probably knew where the meeting would be before we did." Cory was the most outspoken of the three of them in wanting to leave the Vault. He'd started raging debates many times, in many different classes, about why they should be allowed to leave the Vault. "I'm looking forward to their company tonight. Perhaps I can convince some of them to see the error of their ways."
Lee knew what that meant. "Come on now, Slug, don't be pulling any of that. We don't want to get in any trouble. Peaceful protest isn't illegal; beating JDs is."
Before Cory could open his mouth to explain how Lee had misunderstood him once again, Marc spoke up. "I'll meet you guys down there. There's something I need to grab from my room." With that, he turned down the hall to his living quarters and shot away quickly.
They walked together in silence for some time. They'd been friends since they were children, and didn't need to speak to understand one another most of the time.
"Think it'll really come to that?" asked Lee quietly.
For the longest time, Cory said nothing. They just walked together, enjoying the silence of their own thoughts, and the soft hum of Vault machinery in the walls around them. The Vault provided for them. It sheltered them. It protected them from the harsh world they both knew existed outside. They weren't naïve.
It also imprisoned them.
"Yes." Cory said finally, softly. He was large for a Vault Dweller, and strong, but that didn't make him stupid. In strength of character and convictions, there were few who could match him, let alone outdo him.
"I don't think they'll ever let us leave. If we leave, the Vault will become a tomb. We're supposed to be the ones who take care of it when our parents die. Without us here, when our parents die, the Vault will too."
Cory turned to Lee, his frame towering over his slighter friend, red curly hair gathered above his pale green eyes like a gathering storm. Lee matched his gaze, his blue eyes unblinking, raven-black hair swept to the side.
"I want out of here, Lee. I'll fight for it, if I have to. If they make me have to." Cory said, even softer then before. In the Vault, you never knew who was listening.
"Let's just hope it doesn't come to that." Lee said, knowing that his friend's hair wasn't the only gathering storm in their future.