Things had changed in Vault 101 over the course of a year and change. Amata was proud of that. The Vault was open now, and trading with the people on the surface- vegetables, mostly. Their little hydroponic farm in the belly of the lower levels was producing more than the Vault's reduced population could consume in any given growing season. It only made sense to trade for medicine, with Dr. Park long gone. Nobody wanted to let the Vault robots take over medical care. Not when people had already died in the riots after Dr. Park left, and other people were starting to head for the surface and just... not come back.
They weren't dying, was the thing. Not from what Amata heard. Butch had been the first, slipping out one night and vanishing even though everyone who wanted to visit the surface was supposed to check in and check out. Word came from one of the traveling traders- Crow, who sold armor- that a young man answering to Butch's description was regularly making a pest of himself halfway across the Wasteland in a settlement called Rivet City. When word of that got around the Vault, people started trickling out in twos and threes- just to see the town of Megaton, they said, or join a caravan going to Rivet City- and coming back in ones and twos.
Amata had to wonder about that.
She'd wanted to leave the Vault herself when she was younger- everyone her age did- but then Dr. Park had left, and then there'd been the riots, and...well, when Dad handed the Overseer reins to her it just didn't seem like it would be a wise idea to take that kind of a chance. Not with what people said the surface was like. They got a radio up and running, though, and they found a couple of working frequencies. One just played violin music, but the other had all kinds of songs, and every so often someone named Three Dog would talk about what was going on out there. Some of the time he talked about this or that Wasteland community.
Sometimes he talked about Ellen. Amata usually left the room when that happened. Sometimes she turned off the radio. Nobody really argued with her when she did that. It would've been too much of a mess to have let her stay, everyone knew that. Didn't mean it wasn't a bad memory, but it helped a little.
(Not that Ellen had asked to stay. Or even looked like she was going to ask to stay, with her armor and her guns and her dog and her- her strangers. But riling people up again, after so much bad blood... she couldn't have taken that chance.)
(They'd been friends as kids, all through childhood and growing up... maybe she should've asked what Ellen's plans were, first.)
Well, it didn't matter. Amata took people's reports about the surface, and listened to radio news from the surface, and that was good. Three Dog had plenty of news to give. Sometimes he told stories, or had actors read off plays. Those were fun, and not much like anything she'd heard in the Vault before. It was the plays that did it in the end. His music was different from what they knew in the Vault, but the style was familiar and it was the same twenty or so songs over and over again. The plays, though, those were new. Somebody was writing new stories and telling them in new ways out there. Somebody was imagining things they'd just never have come up with at all in the Vault. Something inspiring was out there.
It was stupid of her- so, so stupid, she knew- but...
She wrote a note for her father and left it under her pillow. He'd never respected her privacy much to begin with, but at least he'd hold off on trying to get into her private quarters and search them until she'd been gone a long time; she might get back before he got that far. She went to Officer Gomez and spoke with him for a while, too. He didn't like the idea, but he made a quick check of the Vault security forces, and came up with an escort for her. Then, furtively, he handed her a folded-up piece of paper and wished her all the luck in the world.
The door closed behind her and her escort. It was the most terrifying thing she'd ever heard.
But there was civilization nearby, near enough to reach without looking up at the (oh dear God it was so big!) sky overhead, and the paper Officer Gomez had given her was a map of the easiest path to take to get there. Until that moment she'd never really realized just what it might mean to have to walk on anything other than the Vault floor. She'd sort of assumed it would be... she didn't know. More even. Smoother. Something easier than this. Even with Officer Gomez's map, she stumbled several times. She had to grab hold of her escort's arm, which she didn't like at all; he might need to shoot something, after all...
Eventually, though, the ground leveled off and she found herself on something level enough to pretend it was the Vault floor. Officer Gomez's map said it was the remains of a road from before the War, and it would take her most of the way to Megaton, but she'd have to keep an eye out after that. There'd be a path, but it was worn by feet rather than paved or tiled, and there might be... animals. Or animal leavings. Neither of which would make her journey any easier.
Fortunately there were no living things along the way, and only one pile of something way too disgusting to look at closely, before Amata reached the reassuring security robot at the front gates of the city. They ground open and upwards with a noise like nothing else she'd ever heard before, opening onto a vista of more chaos and ruckus than she could've imagined. In all likelihood she should've been more impressed or taken aback or something, but her escort tapped her on the shoulder before she could do more than goggle for a few seconds.
One of the rickety metal houses, the one just to the left of the unbelievably precipitous path down to the town center, had a distressingly familiar figure coming out of it.
Amata started forward, then stopped. The ground inside Megaton's walls was even more uneven and loose underfoot than the ground outside had been, and she didn't trust herself not to fall down. It didn't seem to stop Ellen, though. Maybe that silver suit of armor she had on was heavy enough to make her steps more stable, or something. Amata didn't know. She'd have to ask.
Of course, that was assuming she could get the words together in the first place. The last time she'd seen her childhood friend, the Vault door had closed between them a moment later. Now Ellen was geared up like an old-world soldier, a sword on one hip and a laser pistol on the other, with the butt of some gun Amata couldn't identify poking out from behind her shoulder. She looked at Amata, and it was the same face Amata remembered well, but-
Ellen sighed. "This really isn't a good time, Overseer," she said. Amata winced. "I'm sorry. I can go notify Sheriff Simms that Vault 101's sent a diplomatic delegation, and he can get you an escort around town if you like, but I've got people waiting for me at the garrison and we're on a timetable."
Amata bit her lip. "This isn't official business, Ellen," she began. "I just wanted to-"
"I'm sorry, Overseer," said Ellen, a little louder this time. "But it's Paladin 101. And I have to leave."
She turned and strode across the dusty, uneven ground to knock on a nearby house's door, and shook somebody's hand inside. All Amata could do was stand and nod. When the town sheriff came up beside her she mustered a smile, the best in her arsenal. He said something that was probably meant to be a polite greeting, but Amata couldn't hear him. The town gates were closing, and her friend was gone.
They weren't dying, was the thing. Not from what Amata heard. Butch had been the first, slipping out one night and vanishing even though everyone who wanted to visit the surface was supposed to check in and check out. Word came from one of the traveling traders- Crow, who sold armor- that a young man answering to Butch's description was regularly making a pest of himself halfway across the Wasteland in a settlement called Rivet City. When word of that got around the Vault, people started trickling out in twos and threes- just to see the town of Megaton, they said, or join a caravan going to Rivet City- and coming back in ones and twos.
Amata had to wonder about that.
She'd wanted to leave the Vault herself when she was younger- everyone her age did- but then Dr. Park had left, and then there'd been the riots, and...well, when Dad handed the Overseer reins to her it just didn't seem like it would be a wise idea to take that kind of a chance. Not with what people said the surface was like. They got a radio up and running, though, and they found a couple of working frequencies. One just played violin music, but the other had all kinds of songs, and every so often someone named Three Dog would talk about what was going on out there. Some of the time he talked about this or that Wasteland community.
Sometimes he talked about Ellen. Amata usually left the room when that happened. Sometimes she turned off the radio. Nobody really argued with her when she did that. It would've been too much of a mess to have let her stay, everyone knew that. Didn't mean it wasn't a bad memory, but it helped a little.
(Not that Ellen had asked to stay. Or even looked like she was going to ask to stay, with her armor and her guns and her dog and her- her strangers. But riling people up again, after so much bad blood... she couldn't have taken that chance.)
(They'd been friends as kids, all through childhood and growing up... maybe she should've asked what Ellen's plans were, first.)
Well, it didn't matter. Amata took people's reports about the surface, and listened to radio news from the surface, and that was good. Three Dog had plenty of news to give. Sometimes he told stories, or had actors read off plays. Those were fun, and not much like anything she'd heard in the Vault before. It was the plays that did it in the end. His music was different from what they knew in the Vault, but the style was familiar and it was the same twenty or so songs over and over again. The plays, though, those were new. Somebody was writing new stories and telling them in new ways out there. Somebody was imagining things they'd just never have come up with at all in the Vault. Something inspiring was out there.
It was stupid of her- so, so stupid, she knew- but...
She wrote a note for her father and left it under her pillow. He'd never respected her privacy much to begin with, but at least he'd hold off on trying to get into her private quarters and search them until she'd been gone a long time; she might get back before he got that far. She went to Officer Gomez and spoke with him for a while, too. He didn't like the idea, but he made a quick check of the Vault security forces, and came up with an escort for her. Then, furtively, he handed her a folded-up piece of paper and wished her all the luck in the world.
The door closed behind her and her escort. It was the most terrifying thing she'd ever heard.
But there was civilization nearby, near enough to reach without looking up at the (oh dear God it was so big!) sky overhead, and the paper Officer Gomez had given her was a map of the easiest path to take to get there. Until that moment she'd never really realized just what it might mean to have to walk on anything other than the Vault floor. She'd sort of assumed it would be... she didn't know. More even. Smoother. Something easier than this. Even with Officer Gomez's map, she stumbled several times. She had to grab hold of her escort's arm, which she didn't like at all; he might need to shoot something, after all...
Eventually, though, the ground leveled off and she found herself on something level enough to pretend it was the Vault floor. Officer Gomez's map said it was the remains of a road from before the War, and it would take her most of the way to Megaton, but she'd have to keep an eye out after that. There'd be a path, but it was worn by feet rather than paved or tiled, and there might be... animals. Or animal leavings. Neither of which would make her journey any easier.
Fortunately there were no living things along the way, and only one pile of something way too disgusting to look at closely, before Amata reached the reassuring security robot at the front gates of the city. They ground open and upwards with a noise like nothing else she'd ever heard before, opening onto a vista of more chaos and ruckus than she could've imagined. In all likelihood she should've been more impressed or taken aback or something, but her escort tapped her on the shoulder before she could do more than goggle for a few seconds.
One of the rickety metal houses, the one just to the left of the unbelievably precipitous path down to the town center, had a distressingly familiar figure coming out of it.
Amata started forward, then stopped. The ground inside Megaton's walls was even more uneven and loose underfoot than the ground outside had been, and she didn't trust herself not to fall down. It didn't seem to stop Ellen, though. Maybe that silver suit of armor she had on was heavy enough to make her steps more stable, or something. Amata didn't know. She'd have to ask.
Of course, that was assuming she could get the words together in the first place. The last time she'd seen her childhood friend, the Vault door had closed between them a moment later. Now Ellen was geared up like an old-world soldier, a sword on one hip and a laser pistol on the other, with the butt of some gun Amata couldn't identify poking out from behind her shoulder. She looked at Amata, and it was the same face Amata remembered well, but-
Ellen sighed. "This really isn't a good time, Overseer," she said. Amata winced. "I'm sorry. I can go notify Sheriff Simms that Vault 101's sent a diplomatic delegation, and he can get you an escort around town if you like, but I've got people waiting for me at the garrison and we're on a timetable."
Amata bit her lip. "This isn't official business, Ellen," she began. "I just wanted to-"
"I'm sorry, Overseer," said Ellen, a little louder this time. "But it's Paladin 101. And I have to leave."
She turned and strode across the dusty, uneven ground to knock on a nearby house's door, and shook somebody's hand inside. All Amata could do was stand and nod. When the town sheriff came up beside her she mustered a smile, the best in her arsenal. He said something that was probably meant to be a polite greeting, but Amata couldn't hear him. The town gates were closing, and her friend was gone.