Chapter 14 – The Overseer's Office
The room was in semi-darkness; most of the lights were off, probably to save power, but what I could make out in the gloom looked all very familiar, it had the fairly standard Overseer Office, with the main layout feature being, that the entrance had opened straight into the office area, with a doorway off to the left that presumable lead into the living quarters, and another doorway off to the right, from which shone some flickering lights, maybe from a computer or some other such equipment.
By means of the light shining through the doorway behind me, I could see a Holodisk player lying up against the door frame, it had been roughly wired up to the door's proximity sensor: a quick flick of its power button removed that annoying "Go Away" security measure, enabling me to safely reached up and began to pull off my Ear-Defenders.
I had hardly got them halfway off, before I heard a very familiar clicking sound that made me freeze in mid-movement, as I realised I would have alter my definition of 'safely'.
Correction, there are two sets of clicking noises; on either side of me, and very close too. I moved my head very, very slowly and as little as possible to my left, to try and see what it was out of the corner of my eye; followed by an equally slow glance to my right confirmed my initial worst fears, I was standing in a "kill zone", directly between a pair of Mk V gun turrets, which were pointing right at me.
With little to lose in the attempt, I threw myself desperately to one side, in an attempt to get out of the line of fire, landing painfully on some skeletal remains of a previous victim, and ... and ... Nothing happen!
I rolled gingerly up into a sitting position, astounded that I hadn't been shot to pieces. Only now the room lighting sensors started to belatedly detected my presence, and started to switch on the lights. In the improved visibility, I saw the reason that I was still alive: whomever (probably Leris) had set up this sneaky gun-trap, they had made a fundamental mistake which meant the turrets had caught each other in their own cross-fire, when the last person to try and enter the room had been gunned down. Although the outer casings seemed to largely intact, looks like the damage was enough to prevent them from doing anything other than click in a threatening manner.
Honestly, my main thought, was to thank my lucky stars, that I had used one of my points to increase my luck, as I would hate to think what would have happened otherwise.
As the adrenaline slowly faded in my bloodstream, sharp pain from my hands alerted me to that fact that I hadn't been lucky enough. As I inspected the bloody gashes on my palms, from the rubbish on the floor, my immediate thought was "Sarah-Jane is going to kill me", then the cuts really started to throb, so my thoughts & language were even less appropriate.
I carefully washed clean my cuts, with a bottle of clean water, before dressing them; all the time worrying about the possibility of infection, with all the time & radiation there was no telling what germs & the like were about.
"The only answer is that I must be more careful!" I concluded out loud; then whole ludicrous impossibility of that last thought gave me a fit of the giggles.
After I quickly disconnected both gun-turrets, just to be safe, I turned my attention back to the rest of the room.
Directly facing me on a slightly raised stage was the imposing Overseer's desk, with his chair facing away from me, as if its occupant was surveying the Atrium below. The whole arrangement was clearly intended to impress all who entered, and remind them of their place in the scheme of things.
As I forward, it was apparent that apart the mess next to the entry, and a layer of dust over everything, the place looked much as it must have done, when it was new.
Curiously there seemed to be a series of strange tracks in the dust. They looked like, well small tank tracks, they ran from the entrance, around the Overseer's desk, and up to his chair. There seemed to have been several visits, though the last visit had been some time ago, looking at the level of dust on the clearest and presumably the most recent set of tracks.
I walked round the end of the desk, and got my first clear view of the front of the Overseer's chair, the sight of which caused me to whip my .32 pistol, and have it fully extended ready to shoot, before my brain had chance to fully take in what it was seeing. The chair was still occupied, a wizened old figure in a Vault suit sat there, looking out of the window down into the Atrium, with a curious expression on his face. I was finally face-to-face with the Master-Mind behind all the pain and suffering that saturated this place, the Overseer of Vault 106 himself, Dr Albert Leris.
He was far smaller than I had expected, if he had topped 5-foot I would have been surprised; although it was hard to judge this accurately, due to the strange withered way he was sat in his chair, despite the fact that the dry atmosphere in the room, had perfectly mummified him; so much so, that but for the dust, it looked that he would open his eyes, and say something, if I touched him.
Aggravatingly, it was fairly clear that he had managed to live a very long life, before death had finally caught up with him; this last point now raised an obvious question: Why had his death not been logged by the Vault Computer? He had clearly not left the Vault, but had died here, and as such his Pip-Boy would have automatically reported it.
Plus there was that really creepy expression on his face, which seemed to be a mixture of pain, and awed satisfaction, almost as he had died, at the moment of his greatest triumph. To be honest, it sent chills up & down my spine.
"Okay, now for some answers," I declared, turning my attention to his Pip-Boy, "What the %^$&%!" burst from my lips, as I realised that distraction of Leris's facial expression, had prevented me from noticing the biggest thing that was amiss with the whole scene before me.
Someone or something had almost completely gutted the Overseer's Pip-Boy, and it couldn't have been Leris himself, because to open up a Pip-Boy as thoroughly as this one had, would have taken two free hands, and Leris's left arm was securely duct-taped to the chair-arm.
Also with the Pip-Boy sensor probes still all fully deployed, the operation would have caused extreme pain to the wearer; being dipped in a vat of boiling acid would have seemed minor in comparison.
I crouched down to examine the damage more closely, and something crunched under my foot, it was an empty Med-X syringe, and it was not alone. There was a dozen or more empty syringes lying scattered about under the Overseer's chair; well this partly explained the lack of pain lines on his face.
As regards his Pip-Boy, it looked like the heart of it had been completely removed: its CPU, and all the processing and memory chips. Also there was a strange non-standard data cable that had wired into various exposed points, the other end of which trailed down onto the floor. "What on Earth, was going on here?" I exclaimed, unable think of anything more original to say.
Thwarted for answers there, I now turned to the Overseer's computer terminal for some answers, but I couldn't access it in any way or form. It stubbornly insisted that I had 'insufficient security clearance', and that only personnel with the minimum security level shown in brackets, or higher could access it. A careful comparison of the security level code, with the "Vault Organisation Chart" on my Pip-Boy showed that it applied only those with an 'Overseer' type ranking or higher. My job as Chief Maintenance Engineer meant that I was close, but no cigar; Sarah-Jane as Chief Medical Officer had the same security level as me.
By now, my temper was rapidly starting to rise; All these questions, which kept leading to dead-ends, or just more questions.
I angrily searched through the Overseer's desk, for anything that might help: jerking drawers open, rummaging through them, and then slamming them shut. As I wrenched open the top left-hand drawer, I pulled too hard, and it shot straight out, and landed upside down on the floor spilling its contents everywhere. My furious expletive died in mid-syllable, as I spotted something that was taped to the underside of the drawer. A key-card, and not just any key-card – It was Vault 106 Master Key.
I tore it off its tape mounting in nanoseconds, but was then stumped – now what?. I had not seen any doors or computers that were fitted with the card-reader to take it. It took an embarrassing few minutes for me to realise how dense I was being, missing the obvious: my Pip-Boy, and sure enough, along the bottom edge of it, there was the card-reader.
I swiped the card through, and Pip-Boy beeped, and the screen momentarily blanked out.
Within a minute of the display's return, there was double-beep, as I received an incoming message from the Vault Computer:
To Chief Engineer Jenny Saunders,
Congratulations, on your promotion to "Deputy Vault Overseer" to Vault 106. You now have the honour to serve Vault-Tec, and your fellow residents to an ever greater degree, and for the benefit of humanity.
Please report to the Overseer's Office, so that you can briefed, as to your duties and Vault responsibilities, by the Vault Overseer.
Your Pip-Boy files have been updated.
Signed,
Overseer Dr A. Leris
On reading this, I sardonically turned the room's occupant, and said in my best 'mock' marine style "Sir, Jenny Saunders awaiting instructions! Sir", and then stuck my tongue out at him. Gesture seemed to lighten my mood, as the whole situation was so ridiculous.
This time, when I tried to access the computer terminal, I was able to get straight in, no problem.
The first thing that I was greeted with was a personal message of the Vault Main-Frame, informing me that "The Overseer was currently in Science Lab 1, engaged in an important experiment, and could not be disturbed", it then suggested that in the meantime I read the Vault-Tec Company Hand-book, which had been downloaded onto my Pip-Boy.
A quick scan of that, revealed that it was typical Management-speak document, full of inspiring phrases, but with very little information that would have been useful 200 years ago, but was total waste of time now.
However, message content did raise one strange question: Why did the Vault Main-frame think that the Overseer was in the Science Lab? Surely even if it didn't know he was dead, it would have known that his body was physically here in his office.
I tried to investigate further, however the feeling of triumph accessing the computer died very quickly, as I was greeted with hundreds (maybe thousands of files: many of them being the official generic Vault-Tec instructions, which provided very little useful information.
Annoyingly the file with the title "Overseer – Instructions" empty, and all the data files from all the whole Vault experiment was gone: the folders were still there, but the contents were missing. According to the computer's history log, a large number of files had been transferred on the 15th June 2112, to the Science Lab computer server, moreover when I tried to access that system, the terminal reported that the "Network Connection is broken". A quick comparison of the Maintenance Records, confirmed that the network link had been broken only a few minutes after the transfer of the data files had been completed.
Fortunately, whoever had taken the files, had not been as diligent enough, as I managed to find an old data backup, which contained what appeared to be Overseer Leris's Journal/Log. The file had been badly corrupted in sections, but what entries survived made fascinating reading:
?th July 2075
Finally, the pencil-pushers have finally got round to assigning personnel to the new Vaults, but why do they insist in such messages being hand-delivered, and signed for. Don't they realise how much this disrupts my experiments. My research is of vital importance; it is critical to discover how various chemical nerve & mutantgenic gas agents that may be encountered on a battlefield will interact with each other. Still, there is a the plus side, the dramatic demise of that impertinent office-boy who brought the message to me, has a number of my colleagues very excited; I was certainly impressed at speed that he started to bulk-up, and turn purple with intense rage before he was even halfway across the room, it is a shame that his brain imploded, before we could get him onto the examination table. His body was whisked away almost immediately for autopsy. This needs further study.
15th October 2077
Damn those Chinese, and Double-Damn those panicking rubber-stampers at Vault-Tec. They have insisted that the Vaults be brought up to Hot-Standby, which means I have to waste my invaluable time sitting at my desk, just when my experiments with the psycho-active gas [name unreadible] were showing signs of real promise. If used in under the right conditions, it would make even the most co-ordinated of armies to tear themselves apart, or with some other means of control, we could create the ultimate in Assault Troops – the Berserker; Perfect for storming enemy strongholds.
Also there are these stupid secret instructions, some of which I am not allowed to open until the Vault door has been sealed. I have no time to waste with these silly spy games.
23rd October 2077
Wonderful news! Now that Vault door has been sealed, I have finally been able to open those secret instructions, and ... I couldn't believe my eyes, Vault-Tec have agreed fully to my request for a full-blown test of my new neurological gas, and they have even equipped this Vault with everything I need. Now it all makes marvellous sense: the selection of my team of top-flight researchers, and that the Vault was assigned the most co-operative & passive of Vault-Tec staff, and other like-minded Residents; perfect for me to use as subjects.
26th October 2077
Those damned Penny-pinchers in Vault-Tec supply. The Vault Radio is a load of junk, my own civilian kit is vastly more superior to this trash, Hell! I gave my 5-year old nephew a better radio than this, for his birthday last year.
The Communication link with Vault-Tec Central is still not working, even with my equipment: the data-transmission up-link seems to be working, but there is no feedback response.
I have compiled a full Complaint Report, which I will submit, as soon as I get through.
The good news is that I have managed to establish a local comm-net, with the nearby Vaults in the area. Most of them have admitted, or as good as, that they also have no communication with anyone outside of the area.
Conversation beyond that varies from Vault to Vault:
Overseer Almodover of Vault 101 is still refusing to talk much, citing Vault-Tec instructions. I can only assume that he must also have had some secret additional instructions, as there is nothing that I am aware of, against us communicating.
Dr Braun in Vault 112 was positively rude, and has refused to talk to me in person, except some child he has manning their radio. He keeps threatening to report me to Vault-Tec Central. I have heard nothing since, so it must have been an empty threat.
Communication with Overseer [name illegible] in Vault 87 is difficult, from what I can make out, it sounds like that they took a direct hit. The Vault itself is OK, but the door is jammed. The Vault's external radio masts have been badly damaged or destroyed, plus the high levels of radiation in the area is making communication patchy at best.
Overseer David Wilson (Call Me 'Dave') in Vault 108 seems to be a fairly pleasant chap, although he seems to be excessively proud of his status as Vault Overseer.
My good friend Richard Rubin is the Overseer up north in Vault 92; it seems that he is working on something similar to me, but using sonic control instead. He gave me some very useful suggestions for controlling troublesome Residents, which I may be able to modify the PA system to broadcast. Just to be safe, I will keep the control commands simple, a variation of dog training commands of "Come" and "Go to Bed".
2nd November 2077 – Day 1 of the Great Experiment
All the gas cylinders are online, and are responding to my commands, and I have gas monitors located all round the Vault, and the modification to the PA system is done. I have even prepped key personnel with the cover story, that there is "a irregularity with Air Purification System". The only 'fly in the ointment' is that blasted Williamson, always harping on about not having enough staff to operate the Air Purification; He may be a problem, which I may need to eliminate. Nothing must interfere with this experiment!
Day 3:
There are indications that the gas is starting to have an effect on the Residents; Security has reported that there are indications of rising irritability, and they had to break up a scuffle in the Cafeteria Lunch queue today. I told them that it was probably just 'Cabin Fever', and that people would adjust.
Williamson is definitely going to be a problem, he seems to be taking the suggestion that the gas is due to a fault with his equipment as a personal insult. It could be due to his exposure to the gas, but I have started 'Project: Masada" just in case. Luckily Jenson, one of Williamson's crew seems to be exceptionally susceptible to my Sonic commands, so I trying some of Richard's suggestions of more advanced command words.
Day 10:
Things are proceeding nicely, the gas has completely destroyed the happy, co-operative, friendly atmosphere of the Vault; Residents are viewing each other with suspicious looks. Note: As an interesting side-effect is the sudden rise in gang-orientated behaviour, with Residents forming protective cliques, usually based around their immediate work-associates. There is aggressive behaviour within the groups, but the majority of the hostility is directed towards non-members of the group.
One unfortunate side-effect of the experiment: is that work quality of my Research Team has been reduced by their exposure to the gas, and one of them got a nasty black-eye & cut lip in latest brawl whilst on-route to Lab 1. So I have decided to declare the Upper Atrium off-limits to all but my Research Team, and I am having to limiting the Team's access to the Laboratory area to periods when the gas levels there are at their lowest, and there is little activity in the Atrium.
I added "Fetch" to my list of Sonic Commands to ensure that the supplies to my office are not affected by the experiment.
Day 15:
The experiment is steadily moving into its next phase, now that gas levels are now at level 2 in most of the lower areas of the Vault. Project Masada was a complete success, and all I need to do now, is to neglect to appoint any replacement staff to the Air Purification Department; no-one will notice in the confusion.
I also successfully defused a potential crisis among my Research Team; Dr Sullivan was trying to rally some kind of revolt, which would have interfered with MY experiment. However I was able to stop the whole thing in its tracks, thanks to the PA sonic commands, although Dr Sullivan seems to be somehow immune to its effect. I must contact Vault 92, and discuss this with Richard.
Day 20:
The whole outcome of the experiment is in danger. That so-called top-flight team of Researchers, BAAAHH!, I would have done better with a bunch of bird-watchers, at least they would know better than draw attention to themselves. But NOO! One of them just had to take a photo with a camera, equipped with a FLASH! Next thing you know, the Residents are running amok on the Upper Atrium. As far as I can tell, only that mutinous Dr Sullivan survived.
I will continue the experiment, but it will be much harder for me to process all the data alone. I will have to automate it somehow. Also as a result in the fighting yesterday, I have only 30% of the test subjects I estimate that I will need to complete the bare minimum of my research.
There must be some way to solve this dilemma? I cannot fail this early in my testing!
Day 22:
Marvellous! Wonderful! Only the other day, I was staring possible failure in the face, only for the solution to literally come knocking on my door today.
After the loss of useless bunch of so-called scientist, I was forced to review the whole experiment, and the data gather so far, and I realised that whole setup of the experiment was based on a fallaciously. The aim is develop the gas as a weapon, as well as a creating the next-generation of Assault Troops, by means of live testing in the real world. But the Vault's very isolation means that that it is just a lab test writ-large-scale; in the real world, there are always additional people interacting with those affected by the experiment, be that friends, family, or person-next-door.
The solution is simple, let people in from outside, in a controlled rate, and record what happens. I already have my first group of additional subjects outside the door right now, a mixed bunch of National Guardsmen and Nurses from Germantown. Some of them look to be in a pretty rough state, a couple almost look like they are glowing, but as first batch, they are perfect.
I will allow them in, once I have secured my office, and the Laboratory sector from possible intrusion.
11 months, 4 days:
The Experiment is proceeding well, as expected the majority of test subjects introduced into the Vault, are quickly attacked, and wiped out by the existing Vault Residents. However, there is an interesting side-effect: any new subjects that survive the initial introduction to the Vault are quickly absorbed into one or other of the Resident 'Gangs', to the extent that they become indistinguishable from the original test subjects in their dress, speech and behaviour.
It will be interesting to see how this develops.
1 year, 7 months:
It has now been several months or more since I last managed to contact anyone outside of the Vault:
I fear the worst for my friend Richard Rubin in Vault 92, as last reports sounded like he was having some crowd control problems; I did warn him that I thought he was making his control commands too complicated. It is often best to keep things simple
Dr Peterson became Acting Overseer at Vault 108, for awhile after David Wilson suddenly died, and I used to enjoy my chats with her. However when I now try contacting her, all I get back is a strange demented male chorus of "Dave, Dave, Dave". Have they all gone mad over there?
All intelligent communication with Vault 87 has been lost. Now all I get from there is grunts & manic yelling, with the occasional comment about "Hearing Voices".
Vaults 101 & 112 are still registering on the network, but are stubbornly refusing to respond to my calls.
Still no contact with Vault-Tec Central. I will be reporting this incompetence to CEO of Vault-Tec himself. How on Earth, am I supposed to ensure that invaluable research data is getting processed properly without some kind of feedback!
6 years, 1 month:
The Vault population seems to have stabilised at approximately 40 Residents, allowing for minor variation due to the controlled introduction of new subjects: only seven left from my original set of test subjects. Interesting the basic biological need to reproduce seems to be resistant to the gas effects, Senior Engineer Jeff Saunders has had a son, and its parents are protecting it from the rest of the group; Fascinating!
The number & frequency of fresh test subjects seems be falling; this could threaten the continuation of my work. I am doing some modifications to the kitchen's Mr Handy robot, so that I can send it out as a Recon Drone, to find out what the conditions are like outside.
6 years, 2 month, 22 days:
Have finally finished studying the remains of the strange robot, which my Recon Drone found, down near the bridge. I believe it is RobCo prototype, a kind of mobile camera robot. It has been configured as a purpose-built armed Recon Drone / News Broadcast Unit, unfortunately it has been too badly damaged for me to repair completely, however I may be able to get it working, if I graft it into the Mr Handy robot.
Then maybe I can use it to broadcast old Vault-Tec advertisements, and the like to encourage more test subjects to the Vault.
12 years, 4 months:
Where are they? The whole experiment was supposed to have finished last month, after which the Vault should either have opened, so that everyone can leave, the radiation permitting of course. But if the radiation is too high, as is the case, then a Vault-Tec vertibird is supposed to collect me and my research, and transport me to Vault-Tec Central, wherever it is located, for further development.
Maybe they having maintenance issues? I will just have to be patient; I had intended to fully terminate the experiment, but I will postpone that until my transport arrives. Additional data is always helpful
25 years, 1 month:
Today is a kind of landmark day, as the last of the original Vault Residents has died. The Vault population of sixty subjects; which now consists wholly of introduced subjects, plus about a dozen second and third generation residents. Strangely only the 'Attack' & 'Go to Bed' commands seem to work anymore, all other commands such as the 'Fetch' are ineffective, as they mostly only worked with the original subjects, and some of the early introduced groups. If it wasn't for "Testy" bringing me fresh supplies, I would have been forced to leave my quarters, damaging the integrity of my experiment
I am still amazed that the urge to procreate can overcome the effects of my gas. It is interesting to see if there is any change in tolerance to the gas in the subsequent generations.
31 years, 6 months:
What a depressing day! It is supposed to be my 80th Birthday today, a day of celebration, but thanks to goddamned Vault-Tec pencil-pushers and their empty promises, I am trapped in this dingy rat-hole.
They were supposed to get me out of here 20 years ago, but instead all I have heard is silence and now things are starting to fall apart. Power is starting to become a critical issue; the Geo-Thermal plant has gone off-line, and the Nuclear Reactor is producing way below what it is supposed to, and I cannot contact those damned unreliable Mr Handy robots, that are meant to deal with this.
31 years, 6 months, 4 days.
Testy has just brought me the results of my latest medical, and they confirm what I feared; I have some kind of progressive nerve degeneration disease; hopefully a combination of Med-X & Buffout will slow it down.
But unless someone comes soon, I will die in here, and my life's work will be lost.
That cannot be allowed to happen! There must be some alternative!
32 years, 9 months 2 days
Oh the Pain!, it is almost constant now, I only have the limited mobility in my right arm remaining to me now. Nothing seems able to stop it.
But I think that I may have a solution. If this hypothesis of Professor Calvert, from this old science journal is correct, I may be able to make the old jokes about robots like Testy a reality, and grant me immortality.
Now where is that RobCo manual?
34 years, 8 months, ?days
No more time, if this blasted Pip-Boy is to be believed. The Transfer must be done today. I have only a matter of hours left, before the degeneration reaches the point of no return. It is now or never. The irony is that if this fails my life's work will be lost, yet if this succeeds, this will my crowning achievement, making my work obsolete. June 14th 2112 – The day I conquered death!
++ 15TH JUNE 2112 ++
++ LERIS UPLOAD COMPLETE ++
++ 5% DATA CORRUPTION DETECTED – ATTEMPTING FILE REPAIR ++
++ REPAIR COMPLETE – INITATING COMMAND PROTOCOL: LERIS ++
++ PRIMARY MISSION: CONTINUE VAULT-TEC EXPERIMENT 106 ++
++ SECONDARY MISSION: PRESRVE EXPERIMENT 106 DATA ++
++ PRESENT LOCATION: INSECURE & SURPLUS TO REQUIREMENTS ++
++ TRANSFERRING ALL EXPERIMENTAL DATA TO A SECURE AREA ++
++ DATA TRANSFER COMPLETE. ISOLATING SECURE AREA ++
++ SHUTTING DOWN CURRENT LOCATION, AND MOVING TO SECURE AREA ++
I sat staring at the screen, trying to absorb what I had just read. This thrice-damned gas experiment was bad enough, but it looked like one behind it all may still be around somewhere.