Sixteen
"As far as I can tell," said James, lowering the opthalmoscope, "you're a perfectly healthy sixteen-year-old girl. So, yes, you have to go to class to take your G.O.A.T. exam."
Ellen winced. Bad enough that her father was the Vault's only doctor, and thus she had to get her semi-annual checkups from him, but today was the annual Generalized Occupational Aptitude Test for her age cohort. From here on out, Mr. Brotch would no longer be her only teacher- if she was lucky, that is. She liked his classes, but after the G.O.A.T. she would be trained for specific Vault job duties, and many of them meant an end to academic study. "Are you sure I can't just sign up for something?" she said, a bit hopelessly.
James shook his head. "You know what the Overseer says. 'We're born in the Vault, we die in the Vault, and each is tested to determine their abilities, that they may work for the betterment of all Vault residents.' Sound familiar?"
"I know, but-"
"The Overseer's not about to let anyone else in," continued James, "so I guess that's how it'll have to be. You're here now, and it's a hell of a lot better than being Up There."
Ellen's shoulders tensed. As far as anyone could tell, the surface was still completely uninhabitable- too irradiated by the Great War to support life even two hundred years after the fact.
"All your mother and I ever wanted was for you to be safe, and you're safe here."
"I guess," muttered Ellen, ducking her head. For a moment she contemplated asking James about her mother. Dad was always willing to talk on that particular subject.
He must have sensed the growing intention. "So! Time for you to stop stalling and get to class! Please, Ellen, please take these achievement tests seriously. The last thing I need is your mother's ghost haunting me because her only child became a, a- a garbage burner."
She smiled at that, almost against her will. "Okay, Dad."
"Take care, sweetie. Now get out of here- and good luck."
Ellen dropped off the exam table and slipped out the door, waving to Jonas (by now her father's main medical protege) as she passed him. It wasn't far from the medical bay to Mr. Brotch's classroom, normally. Today was a little different. Up ahead, clustered at the intersection of two or three of the corridors, were a crowd of all-too-familiar figures. Butch and his old buddies had found some thoroughly ancient black leather jackets years ago in Vault storage and coaxed them into some semblance of wearability, declaring themselves the 'Tunnel Snakes'. The jackets served as their gang uniform. Ellen avoided them where she could, and now was no exception. She turned to find another way around, but a voice caught her attention: "Get out of my way, you stupid Tunnel Snakes!"
That... was Amata. Ellen sighed, squared her shoulders, and turned back to see what was going on.
"Oh, I can show you a real 'tunnel snake', Amata-"
"God, Butch!" Amata scowled at him as Ellen came into sight. "Why don't you just leave me alone?"
"What're you gonna do about it?" drawled Butch lazily. "Run tell your daddy on us?" One of the others- Wally Mack, maybe, Ellen couldn't tell- made a crude, half-heard suggestion about one of the nearby storerooms.
Ellen took the opportunity to tap the nearest Snake, who happened to be Paul Hannon, on the shoulder. "Tunnel Snakes rule!" announced the dark-skinned young man as he turned to face her.
"Yeah, I got that. Why are you bothering Amata?"
"None of your business. Because Butch said so," Paul answered, jerking his head towards his leader. "And what Butch says, goes."
"And you listen to him... why?"
"Because he's my pal. My brother. All us Tunnel Snakes are brothers- birth to earth, womb to tomb."
"Uh huh," said Ellen. She glanced at Wally, but the security officer's son had an even more closed expression on his face. No point in wasting her breath there. "Hey! Butch!"
"Huh?" The weirdly pompadoured Butch- she had no clue how he got his hair to do that- glanced her way. "Yeah? What?"
"Are you stupid or something?"
"Excuse me?" Butch's eyes narrowed dangerously; the other Snakes fell silent.
"Harassing the Overseer's daughter right before the exam that says what job you'll be doing the rest of your life doesn't sound like a good idea to me..."
There was a moment of silence. Two.
"Aaah, I was gettin' bored anyway." Butch stood away from the wall. "We're done here. Come on, you two." Under his breath he muttered, "This ain't over, daddy's girl. And I ain't done with you either, twerp."
Ellen just shook her head and glanced to Amata. "Thanks for getting rid of them," Amata said, relieved. "Assholes. I don't know why they won't leave me alone- just because my father is the Overseer, I guess? I don't know. Idiots...."
"No kidding," said Ellen. "Ready for the exam?"
"Ready as I'll ever be."
Most of the other sixteen-year-olds were already seated as Ellen and Amata trailed in. Mr. Brotch, the Vault's teacher, met them at the door. "Well, you made it," he said cheerfully. "All set for the G.O.A.T.? Trust me, it really isn't that bad. Just something everyone has to go through."
"I guess I'm ready," Ellen said doubtfully. "You're sure we really have to take this stupid test?"
Mr. Brock almost laughed at that. "Listen," he said, "I like your dad. I might even like you, if I weren't your teacher. But the Overseer's been a real hardcase lately. Doesn't want me showing favors to anybody in his daughter's class. I might let you mess with the answers if he wasn't waiting to come down on me for the least little thing. Go on, sit down. It'll all be over with quickly."
Ellen slid into her desk and picked up her pencil. Mr. Brotch scanned over the classroom, made sure all the seats were filled, and moved to the slide projector near the front of the room. "All right," he said. "Since everyone's found the classroom- no talking, and keep your eyes to yourselves. Question one..."
It went on, and on, and on. There were virtually no academic questions of any kind, mostly hypotheticals and multiple choice ethical questions. Even the math segment was more slanted towards everyday issues of resource allocation than the sort of math they'd been learning so far. It was a bit of a shock, really. And it was definitely a relief to turn over her paper when it was all done.
"There we go. The infamous G.O.A.T.," announced Mr. Brotch. "Pencils down, people. I'm sure most of you didn't find it so bad. Others, well.... there are always openings in the maintenance department." A smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. "Don't forget to hand your test in before you leave. You don't want to find out what happens to people who fail the G.O.A.T. You can have the rest of the day off when you're done- I'll have your answers for you tomorrow if you don't want 'em now."
For a brief moment Ellen considered heading off to the exercise facility. Then she changed her mind; better to find out now and have something to report to her father than spend the rest of the day and night in anticipation. Several of the others thought so too, by the look of things- Amata, Butch, and the Mack twins among them. Ellen flashed Amata the best smile she could manage as Mr. Brotch fed their papers into the Scantron next to his desk. "All right, now, let's see... Miss Park? They say the G.O.A.T. never lies. According to this, you're slated to be the next vault ... Chaplain."
Ellen blinked a few times. "Chaplain?" she repeated.
"Chaplain," Mr. Brotch confirmed. "God help us all."
"Well- okay, I guess..."
There was a snicker from behind her. Mr. Brotch raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't be so quick to laugh if I were you, Mr. De Loria. You're going to be the Vault's new hairdresser."
"WHAT?"
Brotch smiled again. "As I said," he noted cheerfully, "the G.O.A.T. never lies..."
Ellen winced. Bad enough that her father was the Vault's only doctor, and thus she had to get her semi-annual checkups from him, but today was the annual Generalized Occupational Aptitude Test for her age cohort. From here on out, Mr. Brotch would no longer be her only teacher- if she was lucky, that is. She liked his classes, but after the G.O.A.T. she would be trained for specific Vault job duties, and many of them meant an end to academic study. "Are you sure I can't just sign up for something?" she said, a bit hopelessly.
James shook his head. "You know what the Overseer says. 'We're born in the Vault, we die in the Vault, and each is tested to determine their abilities, that they may work for the betterment of all Vault residents.' Sound familiar?"
"I know, but-"
"The Overseer's not about to let anyone else in," continued James, "so I guess that's how it'll have to be. You're here now, and it's a hell of a lot better than being Up There."
Ellen's shoulders tensed. As far as anyone could tell, the surface was still completely uninhabitable- too irradiated by the Great War to support life even two hundred years after the fact.
"All your mother and I ever wanted was for you to be safe, and you're safe here."
"I guess," muttered Ellen, ducking her head. For a moment she contemplated asking James about her mother. Dad was always willing to talk on that particular subject.
He must have sensed the growing intention. "So! Time for you to stop stalling and get to class! Please, Ellen, please take these achievement tests seriously. The last thing I need is your mother's ghost haunting me because her only child became a, a- a garbage burner."
She smiled at that, almost against her will. "Okay, Dad."
"Take care, sweetie. Now get out of here- and good luck."
Ellen dropped off the exam table and slipped out the door, waving to Jonas (by now her father's main medical protege) as she passed him. It wasn't far from the medical bay to Mr. Brotch's classroom, normally. Today was a little different. Up ahead, clustered at the intersection of two or three of the corridors, were a crowd of all-too-familiar figures. Butch and his old buddies had found some thoroughly ancient black leather jackets years ago in Vault storage and coaxed them into some semblance of wearability, declaring themselves the 'Tunnel Snakes'. The jackets served as their gang uniform. Ellen avoided them where she could, and now was no exception. She turned to find another way around, but a voice caught her attention: "Get out of my way, you stupid Tunnel Snakes!"
That... was Amata. Ellen sighed, squared her shoulders, and turned back to see what was going on.
"Oh, I can show you a real 'tunnel snake', Amata-"
"God, Butch!" Amata scowled at him as Ellen came into sight. "Why don't you just leave me alone?"
"What're you gonna do about it?" drawled Butch lazily. "Run tell your daddy on us?" One of the others- Wally Mack, maybe, Ellen couldn't tell- made a crude, half-heard suggestion about one of the nearby storerooms.
Ellen took the opportunity to tap the nearest Snake, who happened to be Paul Hannon, on the shoulder. "Tunnel Snakes rule!" announced the dark-skinned young man as he turned to face her.
"Yeah, I got that. Why are you bothering Amata?"
"None of your business. Because Butch said so," Paul answered, jerking his head towards his leader. "And what Butch says, goes."
"And you listen to him... why?"
"Because he's my pal. My brother. All us Tunnel Snakes are brothers- birth to earth, womb to tomb."
"Uh huh," said Ellen. She glanced at Wally, but the security officer's son had an even more closed expression on his face. No point in wasting her breath there. "Hey! Butch!"
"Huh?" The weirdly pompadoured Butch- she had no clue how he got his hair to do that- glanced her way. "Yeah? What?"
"Are you stupid or something?"
"Excuse me?" Butch's eyes narrowed dangerously; the other Snakes fell silent.
"Harassing the Overseer's daughter right before the exam that says what job you'll be doing the rest of your life doesn't sound like a good idea to me..."
There was a moment of silence. Two.
"Aaah, I was gettin' bored anyway." Butch stood away from the wall. "We're done here. Come on, you two." Under his breath he muttered, "This ain't over, daddy's girl. And I ain't done with you either, twerp."
Ellen just shook her head and glanced to Amata. "Thanks for getting rid of them," Amata said, relieved. "Assholes. I don't know why they won't leave me alone- just because my father is the Overseer, I guess? I don't know. Idiots...."
"No kidding," said Ellen. "Ready for the exam?"
"Ready as I'll ever be."
Most of the other sixteen-year-olds were already seated as Ellen and Amata trailed in. Mr. Brotch, the Vault's teacher, met them at the door. "Well, you made it," he said cheerfully. "All set for the G.O.A.T.? Trust me, it really isn't that bad. Just something everyone has to go through."
"I guess I'm ready," Ellen said doubtfully. "You're sure we really have to take this stupid test?"
Mr. Brock almost laughed at that. "Listen," he said, "I like your dad. I might even like you, if I weren't your teacher. But the Overseer's been a real hardcase lately. Doesn't want me showing favors to anybody in his daughter's class. I might let you mess with the answers if he wasn't waiting to come down on me for the least little thing. Go on, sit down. It'll all be over with quickly."
Ellen slid into her desk and picked up her pencil. Mr. Brotch scanned over the classroom, made sure all the seats were filled, and moved to the slide projector near the front of the room. "All right," he said. "Since everyone's found the classroom- no talking, and keep your eyes to yourselves. Question one..."
It went on, and on, and on. There were virtually no academic questions of any kind, mostly hypotheticals and multiple choice ethical questions. Even the math segment was more slanted towards everyday issues of resource allocation than the sort of math they'd been learning so far. It was a bit of a shock, really. And it was definitely a relief to turn over her paper when it was all done.
"There we go. The infamous G.O.A.T.," announced Mr. Brotch. "Pencils down, people. I'm sure most of you didn't find it so bad. Others, well.... there are always openings in the maintenance department." A smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. "Don't forget to hand your test in before you leave. You don't want to find out what happens to people who fail the G.O.A.T. You can have the rest of the day off when you're done- I'll have your answers for you tomorrow if you don't want 'em now."
For a brief moment Ellen considered heading off to the exercise facility. Then she changed her mind; better to find out now and have something to report to her father than spend the rest of the day and night in anticipation. Several of the others thought so too, by the look of things- Amata, Butch, and the Mack twins among them. Ellen flashed Amata the best smile she could manage as Mr. Brotch fed their papers into the Scantron next to his desk. "All right, now, let's see... Miss Park? They say the G.O.A.T. never lies. According to this, you're slated to be the next vault ... Chaplain."
Ellen blinked a few times. "Chaplain?" she repeated.
"Chaplain," Mr. Brotch confirmed. "God help us all."
"Well- okay, I guess..."
There was a snicker from behind her. Mr. Brotch raised an eyebrow. "I wouldn't be so quick to laugh if I were you, Mr. De Loria. You're going to be the Vault's new hairdresser."
"WHAT?"
Brotch smiled again. "As I said," he noted cheerfully, "the G.O.A.T. never lies..."