Chapter 2 - Crime and Punishment

Marilyn had just stepped out of the doorway leading back to the main decks and went rigid as Dick shut the door behind them. He turned and walked into her as a result.

"Hey, what's the–oh…" He began, faltering after he looked ahead.

Officer Evans, armed with a piece of cake, had been making his way from the diner party. And he'd stepped into the corridor at the same time they had, freezing mid-bite upon spotting them exiting the lower decks. There was a moment of tense silence as Officer Evans slowly chewed on his mouthful of cake.

Unlike old Castelluccio, Evans was a man of few words. But the few words he did say tended to bring trouble. So when he reached for the comm clipped on his chest, Marilyn's heart sank.

"Evans here," He said after the comm beeped, "We got a… problem."

Understatement of the century, Marilyn thought to herself as she was escorted to the Overseer's office. Unlike Dick, who had been caught getting into trouble enough times to have a standardized punishment routine already in place, Marilyn prided herself on getting away with far more without being caught. Chalk it up to her incrementally better observation skills. Unfortunately, though, that meant her punishment would have to be sorted out with the Overseer directly.

The elevator ride to the upper decks was notoriously long, with the lifts always in need of maintenance. Perpetually on the brink of total collapse, if the maintenance techs were to be believed. Which Marilyn didn't. She suspected they overstated their importance to the Vault solely to have greater bargaining power with the Overseer the next time they decided to ask for better ration wages. At least, that was what her mom said.

Officer Evans didn't provide much in the way of conversation during the elevator ride, but then again, when did he ever? Even so, the silence was a bit stifling, with the only sounds being the metallic whir of the lift and the quiet elevator music playing overhead. That tension made it all the more cathartic when the lift finally slowed to a stop and the metal doors rolled open with a clank. She couldn't step out of the elevator quicker.

Marilyn found the Overseer's office was always cold compared to the main decks. Curiously chilly, just enough to notice but not enough to bother. But maybe that was just her imagination. Maybe it wasn't actually colder than anywhere else. Maybe that was just the frosty attitude of the Overseer.

"Marilyn," He greeted her stiffly, not looking up from where he tapped away at his desk terminal, "Come in."

"Yes, grandpa," She said before quickly correcting herself, "Yes, Overseer."

She stepped forward, approaching the other side of his desk. Without looking up, he pointed to one of the chairs across from his desk, and she silently took a seat. She waited for him to finish whatever he was writing, listening to the quick clacks of the keys and the thrum of the terminal monitor.

As she waited, she relaxed into her seat a little. He didn't seem particularly rushed, so she could be forgiven for thinking that maybe he wasn't all too upset about this whole thing. But then his typing stilled and he shot a cold glare in her direction, instantly making her sit up at attention.

"What in the world were you thinking?" He began, tone harsh and biting, "Sneaking into the lower decks again?"

Marilyn hastily lowered her eyes to look at her lap, unable to hold his gaze. Her grandfather's scolding always had a way of making her feel particularly ashamed of herself. Maybe it was because of his harshness, or maybe it was because she knew it was just because he cared. Either way, her looking away did nothing to stop his tirade.

"Do you have any idea how dangerous it is down there?" He continued as he rose to his feet, "Do you think access is forbidden for no reason?"

Marilyn frowned, shaking her head.

"Well?" He growled, not accepting her tacit answer.

"No, sir," She mumbled quietly.

"Then why would you do something so foolish?" He said with a scowl, circling around the desk to stand in front of her, "Are you trying to get yourself hurt?"

"No, sir," She answered, tentatively flicking her gaze up towards him.

"Then you must have a suitable explanation for disobeying the rules so explicitly, is that it?" The Overseer folded his arms, "Well? What's your excuse?"

Marilyn hesitated, wanting to look away but afraid what would happen if she did. Instead, she cleared her throat and tried to parse together the words he was expecting.

"We were just… curious…" She said quietly.

"We? Ah, yes," The Overseer nodded faintly, "You were found with that DiMucci boy."

Marilyn nodded cautiously before correcting herself again.

"Yes, sir…"

She watched as her grandfather shook his head disapprovingly, folding his arms a bit tighter.

"That hoodlum is a bad influence on you," He sneered, "I should forbid you two from contact, for your own sake."

Marilyn sat up rigidly, feeling a spike of panic crawl up her spine at this, but the Overseer just continued unfazed.

"Of course, that would only make you even more of a troublemaker," He sighed, "I know you would defy even my direct orders to waste your time with that little delinquent. Though I cannot fathom why."

With another shake of his head, he sighed.

"However, that's a matter for another time. We're here now to discuss the punishment for your most recent transgression."

"..Yes, sir," Marilyn responded quietly, for no reason other than to prove that she was still listening obediently.

"You're in very deep trouble, young lady, and it's clear you're in need of a good role model," The Overseer tsked, "Therefore, I'm going to be assigning you to work in the clinic for the next two weeks."

"Huh?" Marilyn blinked at him.

"You heard me," He said sternly, "I understand that your sister was recently assigned to work there. Therefore, you're going to be assisting her. Learn a thing or two about how an Alden girl should behave."

Marilyn frowned visibly upon hearing this. She hated being compared to her sister, but she hated being told to be like her even more. Unfortunately, the Overseer saw this pouting as a sign of defiance.

"Actually, we'll make that three weeks," He added, "Perhaps the extra week will also give you a better attitude."

Realizing her slip up, Marilyn looked down.

"Yes, sir," She relented quietly.

Seemingly satisfied, the Overseer hummed and moved back behind his desk.

"Don't look so unhappy, Marilyn. Something like this is just what a directionless girl like you needs," He said as he retook his seat, pausing to shoot her a smug smile, "Why, you may even thank me when this is all over."

Fat chance, Marilyn thought to herself as she nodded obediently all the same.