Chapter 6 – You've Got Company
As I left my rooms, I locked my door again behind me, this proved much easier to do this time, as the Vault's Main-frame computer, had officially allocated them as my official quarters.
Also since I had confirmed that all the rooms accessible from this corridor on this level and below are unoccupied, I used my official 'Maintenance' status to place an easy lock, on the corridor access door, so that nobody could sneak into those areas while I was away.
As I headed for the Atrium, I passed some additional sets of living quarters, which had probably been intended for Vault Maintenance staff and their families, but apart from a brief check to make sure they were unoccupied, I did not waste any time searching them, as I could do that later. Although as I exited one room I spotted a Vault-Tec Safety Hard-hat that was still hanging a peg behind the door; I quickly grabbed it, as I figured that anything that improved my protection had to be a bonus.
It was fortunate that I did, for as I entered the Atrium, I was greeted with a cry of "GOT YOU!" followed immediately by a massive blow from above, onto my head, which knocked me to the floor, as a Crazy dropped down from the overhead walkway onto me, while at the same time trying to remove my head with a baseball bat.
As we roll apart from the shock of the collision, both of us were a bit stunned from the impact, but thanks to my hard-hat, I was still conscious, so while the Crazy stared at his broken baseball bat, as if not sure what to do next. I solved his dilemma, by planting a .32 bullet right between his eyes, a brilliant shot on my part, but to honest,, it was just a lucky shot, as from the way my head felt, I would have been just as happy if I had managed to send the bullet anywhere near his direction.
I had to use the last of my Med-X, to ease my headache down to a level, where I felt like doing anything like moving or much else. Once my double-vision had faded, I carefully examined the Pip-Boy's proximity indicator, which showed 2 or 3 hostiles, and approximately half a dozen unknowns in detection range, but none of them seemed to be moving or reacting to sound of the fight; Either they are too far away to hear my gunshot, or fighting is such a common occurrence that no-one reacts to it anymore.
I retrieved my hard-hat, and placed it firmly back on my head, then went over and searched my opponent's body.
My opponent was quite different, from any of the other people I had previously met. For starters, instead of the usual 106 Vault-Tec jump-suits that the Residents wore, he was wearing a badly torn Scientist lab-coat, which was a couple of sizes too small for him, plus he had a fairly decent Merc-Cruiser outfit underneath it, and looking at him, he had none of the characteristic tattoos or haircuts, that marked someone as being a Raider. Yet he was also clearly not a born and bred Resident, as he had signs of a fading sun-tan, and I seriously doubt there are any tanning booths or the like in the Vault. So why was he here? What made him come into the Vault? Unfortunately he was no longer available for interrogation.
Apart from his clothing, the only other useful items that he had was: a 10mm pistol which was in very poor condition, which was probably why he attacked using the base-ball bat, which was now only good for firewood; He also had about a dozen rounds of 10mm ammo, and thirty caps.
As I looked around the floor of the Atrium, I was struck by the fact that there seemed to be far less bodies lying about, than there had been last time I was up here, and those bodies that remained, many were no longer complete. A movement at the far side of the room provided me with the answer, for when I moved closer, I saw that it was a Radroach dragging away the severed remains of an arm. My initial reactions to the sight, was to dash forward and kill it, but in the end I decided not to, as it was providing a needed service of disposing the various bodies lying all around. So until I could find an alternative solution, I decided to let it carry on.
One thing for sure, I resolved that Radroach meat was definitely off the menu.
As I stood watching the Radroach dragging away the arm, it was suddenly attacked by another Radroach, and then as they scuffled and rolled across the floor, another Radroach joined the fray, and then a fourth.
It all seemed strangely very funny, and I started to giggle, quietly at first but then more and more louder and maniac. Suddenly, I swung round and punched a nearby crate HARD! ... AAARRRGGHHH!... That really hurt, but the pain was good too, for it helped clear my head.
"Damn! The sooner I do something about this gas the better!" I declared out loud. For it was getting fairly clear that the longer someone was exposed continuously to the gas, the more and more normal, it feels to be slightly ... well ... mentally unstable. If I wasn't careful, it wouldn't be long before I would be as crazy as any other 106 Resident.
As I turned back towards the increasing all-out Radroach brawl, I could not help wondering, if humans were the only ones affected by the gas, as the Radroaches behaviour didn't seem to be anything like what it was in the game, where they seemed fairly tolerate of each other. Here they seemed to very territorial, and even aggressive towards each other; Had 200 years exposure to the gas, affected them as well? That seemed even more worrying; clearly anything that could affect something as tough as a Radroach needed to be got rid of as soon as possible.
Still I had to keep moving, so I headed off down the passageway, leading to the Secondary Reactor, and within a few minutes finally reached the door, with the glowing sign 'Reactor' above.
However, when I tried to open the door, it refused to open more than a few inches. "I don't and$£and$£! BELIEVE IT" I shouted, and then shoulder-charged it a couple of times. It moved open another couple of inches, but my shoulder was now too sore to repeat my assault on the door. However it did look like it might just be enough, and after stripping down to my underwear, I was managed with a great deal of struggling to squeeze through the gap.
It was the remains of some kind of ancient barricade that was blocking the doorway, but now I that I was through, it took only a few minutes to dismantle, and then for me to retrieve my clothing and other equipment from outside.
Once I was dressed again, I turned my attention to the Reactor room itself. In many ways it looked in fairly good state. The Nuclear Reactor was in the centre of the room, and apart from worrying squeals every so often looked to be fully operational; there were three auxiliary generators positioned around the room, against the walls: one at each end of the reactor and the third on the far side of the Reactor from me.
One of the auxiliary generators was running, but regarding the other two: one had shutdown, and had two or three red and amber lights flashing on its control panel, and the third generator had more blown up, rather than shutdown, with a massive hole in the middle of it, and several impressive electrical arcs jumping from one end to the other.
On closer inspection, the Reactor proved to be in excellent shape considering, it hadn't been properly maintained for several or more decades; its good condition was probably due to the Mr Handy robot, that I literally fell over, as I went round the Reactor heading for its control panel.
According to the maintenance records, which had been downloaded onto my Pip-Boy, it had been assigned to care for the Reactor Room, and had been designated with the name 'Up-N-Atom' by the maintenance staff. When I gave an examination of it, it proved to be fully intact, with the exception that its power-pack was completely drained flat. A follow-up inspection of its recharging station, showed that the station had been disabled by a damaged cable, which had been hit by shrapnel from the blown generator, it only took a couple of minutes to fix, and then a few more for me to drag/roll the robot onto its recharge station. I left it there to charge its batteries, while I went to check the Reactor's controls, which were now accessible, now I had removed the robot from in front of them.
The Reactor was designed to easily supply all the power demands of Vault 106, without needing to draw on the three auxiliary generators, which were there for any emergencies that may arise. However, after 200 years, the Reactor was only producing about 20% of its designed output, and with the Primary Power supply off-line, and two of the three emergency auxiliary generators also off-line, it was barely meeting the current Vault demand, and the situation was made worse by the violent fluctuations in the load, which occurred every time, there was a crack of an electric arc across the wrecked generator behind me. Once I had isolated the blown generator, and made it safe to be near, the strain on the Reactor was considerably eased, but it was still only barely meeting the power demand.
In fact, one of the main reasons most of the doors in the vault were inoperable is due to that fact that there is insufficient power for their control circuits to operate properly, and Vault-Tec in their 'infinite wisdom' had failed to provide a means of manually opening them.
With the Reactor load now stable, I was now able to investigate the loss in the Reactor's Total Power Capacity, and found a very simple answer: - the Vault had only been designed to last about 12 years, and it was now nearly 190 years beyond that limit.
The Reactor was simply nearly out of fuel, and was 'running on fumes'. A check on my Pip-Boy revealed that the Vault did have facilities manufacture new fuel rods in an emergency; thankfully 'Up-N-Atom' is still operational, (or would be once it had recharged) otherwise that option would have been unavailable. Once it is recharged, 'Up-N-Atom' could pre-process some of the existing spent nuclear fuel rods, which should boost things a little, but really the Reactor needed a fresh supply of plutonium. And I'm not sure where I can get some, unless I raid that old bomb in Megaton, it should contain enough to fuel this place for another 200 years, assuming that the "Church of Atom" doesn't lynch me first. The thought of Confessor Cromwell's reaction to my idea made me break out in a quiet fit of the giggles.
I quickly oiled and greased, and did what service work I could do without shutting the Reactor down, and drew up a list of tasks for 'Up-N-Atom' to do, once I was clear of the area, as some of the service tasks meant lowering the Reactor's radiation shields, which would lethal to anyone still in the room at the time. The Reactor did sound much smoother afterwards, and the squealing had stopped.
I gave a quick glance at the robot's diagnostic screen, as I moved passed, to confirmed that it was successfully recharging (it was all ready at 5%), and saw that its on-board computer was now exchanging data with the Vault's Main-Frame – system updates, etc.
The auxiliary generator that was running, proved to be in 'A-1' condition, and didn't need anything beyond a quick routine maintenance. The other generator, which had shutdown, turned out to have suffered a coolant leak, and had shutdown when it started to overheat; the leak did not take long to fix, and there was fresh coolant in an oil-drum in the corner with which to re-fill the system. With that generator repaired, and running once more, the Vault's power situation had improved to a level such that the lights were no longer flickering, though I would need to be very economically with what I powered up. The third generator was only fit for scrap, or use as spares.
It was then, as I straighten up, that I heard a pleading voice behind me "Please, please will you help me?" my response must have looked like it was straight out of cartoon; all I know is that one second, I was standing one side of the generator, the next I was on the far side, pointing my gun back in the direction of the voice.
In the corner of the room, there had been a closed door leading into a small store-room; the door was now open, and standing in the doorway, was a woman in her mid-forties, wearing surgeon's coat, and there was something round her neck. She was looking pleadingly in my direction, although her right hand seemed ready to slam the door shut, if I attacked.
My response to my first contact with first sane person since I arrived here was far from the standard of 'Livingston and Stanley'. "Who the hell are you?" I demanded; my surprise and shock clearly recognisable in my voice.
"Sarah-Jane... Please, can you remove this Slave Collar" she replied, with a gulp. My only mental response was "NOW! what do I DO?"