Simon Stockton's death brought home the reality of the dangers of the wastes, to the people from the Vault. Calhoun gave a speech about the boy, directing praise onto him for bravery. Darla and Jim watched him speak with tear-filled eyes, clinging to one another. "Our new home is within reach, thanks to this strong young man. We must carry on, in his memory." He dismissed the group.
He nodded to Pesaro. Jim and Darla were being comforted by the others, giving him time to slip away. Pesaro followed him into an alley between the buildings.
"Other than Simon's unfortunate death," Calhoun said, leaning on the wall, "how did we fare?"
"There was trouble,"Pesaro said, serious in tone. "Celia took a circular saw to the back, and there was a sentry bot that we weren't able to disable."
"Is she alright?" Calhoun asked.
"She'll be fine, I'm sure," Pesaro said. "The Gutsy had damage to the rear access panel. An unavoidable injury." He made a disgusted face. "The ghoul carried her back, you know. He didn't even ask if I would carry her."
"One can only hope he was being conscious of your age," Calhoun said, then gave a wry chuckle at the implication.
"I don't like him getting so close to her. He's been paying specific attention to the girl." Pesaro's face was hard, his tone forbidding. "She only has Ed to protect her, and he's too busy to keep an eye out."
"From what I hear, Lionel tends to get on better with the ladies," Calhoun said. "And we're all watching out for each other, here."
"Well, I don't care who else he harries," the older man said, "I don't want him touching her, or any of us. If that ghoul thing is contagious..." He set his mouth in a line.
"It isn't," Calhoun said. "I understand your concern, Sam. Celia doesn't see any difference between the strange people in the wastes and people back in the Vault. She's refreshingly innocent, if a bit rebellious."
Pesaro scoffed. "She needs to be reigned in. She might have gotten her killed. Mike had to talk her out of taking on the sentry bot."
"I'll speak with her," Calhoun soothed. "Work on your report. We'll go over it, later." He stood, turned, and walked off toward the clinic.
He'd have to step up, he thought. Danger was everywhere, out here. The group couldn't afford to lose any more people, if they intended to live outside the Vault. And, he told himself, I'd rather not see Celia get hurt again.
That had been a long time in the making, he knew. Nina, God rest her soul, had been a good woman. Her untimely death left a void in him that remained unfilled. He should have remarried; there were other women in the Vault he could have made a life with. But for the first few years after Nina's passing, he'd simply shut himself off from it. Didn't feel right, and he'd had the job to consider. Being Overseer drew a line between him and the others; because of the title, his social interactions had always had a strained element to them.
It was well and good that he'd been somewhat of a loner, before he'd taken the post. Much like Celia, he enjoyed having privacy and not being forced into close company. In the common house, he was stifled by that closeness. He did enjoy being able to pry her away from the others... to talk with her, alone. But he didn't want to push her too fast, too soon. She didn't know what to make of him, yet. As a surrogate mmother, Ann hadn't adequately prepared her for romantic intentions.
Nina had died at the same time as Celia's mother, Overseer Barbara Landis. Barbara's death had left two children without any parents. Nina's death had only left Jack, alone, and suddenly in power. Celia had been four years old, Ed seventeen.
It was six years before he even paid any attention to the girl, and five more before he'd realized she was attractive to him. He sighed to himself. What he'd thought at the time was not applicable to the situation at hand, anymore. Her reckless nature had only gotten worse in the intervening period between his initial feelings and their leaving the Vault.
And Ed, when his mother died, had quickly married the Pottin girl and expected Ann to raise his sister for him. Calhoun shook his head at that thought. Celia bristled against authority too easily to even listen to what Ann said. That was a Landis family trait; when in power they were capable workers, but out of it... Ann certainly knew how to use her wiles to manipulate others, almost as well as he did. She must have tried everything in her power to compel Celia to behave. It hadn't worked.
He entered the dismal clinic, pushing those thoughts out of his head. Dr. Jen was standing by the door, reading a clipboard. She smiled at him. "Safe as houses," the doctor said. "Celia should heal up in no time."
Calhoun nodded, and went around the screen, to the gurney where Celia was laying on her stomach. She had no shirt on, but the bandage across her chest covered her effectively enough. Dr. Jen was considerate of her modesty.
"How are you, Celia?" he asked, quietly.
The girl's head whipped around in surprise, looking away from a ratty comic book she'd been reading. "Overseer!" she said, nervously. "Uhh―I guess I'm okay?"
"Good," he said. Calhoun moved closer, leaning against the wall to her left. He fixed her with a stern stare. "I hear you were being reckless."
She looked down, her face flushed in shame. "I got carried away," she mumbled. "Simon died. ...I'll should have done better."
"Pesaro says that Simon rushed blindly into a laser," Calhoun said, crossing his arms. "It wasn't your fault."
She colored further, made a pained face. "I criticized him," she said. "For not being able to do what I was. It made him look stupid, and he―"
"We all have our own talents, Celia," Calhoun said. "Simon should have realized he wasn't made to disable robots. He was a good shot with a pistol; he knew his circuitry fairly well. He could have been Ed's apprentice in a year or two."
She looked down at the comic book, appropriately chastised. It was not an act, though she'd likely forget the lecture the moment he walked away. Calhoun understood. He'd been a rebellious teenager, once.
"You are much better at taking risks than the rest of us," he continued, "but I want you to be prudent, and not go fool-headed into a fight. No more crazy stunts, okay?"
"Yes, sir," she mumbled.
Calhoun moved and sat down on the edge of the bed, eyeing the mess of hair on her head. "You can call me Jack, you know," he said, gently. "I'm not the Overseer, anymore. I left that at the Vault."
She was quiet for a moment. "You're still in charge, though," she said, staring away from him.
He hadn't expected she would use his first, but it was worth a try. Calhoun eyed her back where the bandage rested, bulkily covering the wound. Whatever the injury had been... he didn't like what he saw. Her spine was poking through her skin and ribs were dramatic against the tanned skin on her sides. "Have you been eating?" he asked, frowning.
"There isn't much to go around," she said, tonelessly. "I eat what I get."
Calhoun sighed to himself. The problem of food was going to be a constant one, until they could get into the base permanently. Celia had lost a lot of weight, and the loss of her chubby cheeks made her look a lot less like a child. He wondered if that made her more or less attractive to him, for a moment, before pushing his focus back onto the importance of food.
"Are you hungry now?"
She shook her head. "Mike gave me med-x," she said. "At the base. I can't really feel my stomach."
"This is absurd," he muttered to himself. "We need to do better than this."
Celia turned a page on the comic, the paper rustling loudly in the quiet clinic. Calhoun stood up, ran a hand over his thinning hair, and cleared his throat. "Celia... if anything is bothering you... or anyone, or you just need to talk. Come talk to me. I can't read your mind," he half-joked, "but I will listen very carefully."
"I am fine, thank you," she said, in the same tone of voice she'd used the last time they were alone. "May I please finish this comic? Dr. Jen has to kick me out at bedtime."
He nodded, smiling in relief. The tension had gotten very strong for a moment. "I'll see you at the common house. Be well, Celia."
Calhoun left, breathing easier once he'd left the gloomy room, and sought out Mike Rind. Mike and Ed had gone off, back to the Vault, according to Sally. Calhoun was furious. "Why?" he asked.
"Mike remembered something that he forgot, last time," Sally said, eyeing the angry man. "They'll be back soon enough. Don't worry, Overseer."
Those fools could die out there, he thought, and I'd lose two of the most important members of the group. He groaned to himself. Not to mention that they hadn't asked him. He was getting a little tired of the freedoms that others were taking with his authority. This isn't the Vault, he told himself, I know I can't expect everyone to jump when I say so.
But that detention center idea he'd had was starting to seem more and more important. The sentry bot in the armory at the base... would make an excellent guard.
Calhoun rubbed his face wearily. It would be an uphill battle, from here on out.