Vault 112
The garage, when Ellen returned, still had that musty, dank smell to it that she'd found in many a structure across the Wasteland. Two hundred years of silent standing with no residents but the radroaches and the occasional mole rat would do that to a place. Well, no matter. She wasn't going to be here long, now that she'd spent the night in Milliways. Possibly long enough to rip some wires out of the dead cars in the workroom and rummage through the storage closets to see if there were any pre-war supplies left... ah, yes, there they were. Well, no reason not to try those schematics out here, right? There was a workbench for car parts along the back wall, next to what looked like a power switch for the room lighting; she could work there. She deposited the wires, turpentine, and Abraxo on the bench, unshouldered her pack, and went to throw the switch just in case there was any juice left in the building at all.
There was. But it did not light up the ceiling.
Ellen stared with wide, startled eyes as the doors in the garage floor slid apart. Beyond lay, not the storage room she half-expected, but a long, well-lit flight of stairs and a metal-walled room of a familiar design. She started down the stairs, then froze before her foot could come down for the third. Just because no one was in the garage when she found it didn't mean it would stay empty any length of time. Once she'd shoved the grenade components into her pack, she heaved it back on and started down the stairs, Dogmeat at her heels. The room quickly gave way to a short, stone-walled tunnel, lit here and there by lamps that flickered into life as Ellen and Dogmeat approached them.
The last set of lights to switch on lit up the great round door to Vault 112.
Ellen didn't realize until the pain struck upward through her legs that she'd fallen to her knees in shock. Her vision blurred a moment. Tears of pain, probably, she told herself- but when Dogmeat nosed at her with a worried whimper she threw her arms around the dog and all but sobbed with gratitude. It was real, it was real, it was real and she didn't have to search any more... Eventually she let him go and wiped at her cheek ineffectually. "Well," she said as she pushed herself awkwardly to her feet. "Shall we see what's inside?"
Dogmeat shook himself off and gave a faint whuf of reply. Ellen laughed, and tapped in the same Overseer code she'd used on Vault 92. Sure enough, after a heart-stopping moment of silence, the sirens began to blare and the door ground oh-so-slowly back and to the side. It might have been Ellen's imagination, but the door's motion sounded less labored than she'd expected- could it have been opened recently? Had Dad been here? Was he still here?
Well, if he was, he wasn't in the control room that lay just on the other side of the door. And he wasn't in the arch-roofed supply foyer beyond that, either. No one was. On the other hand, both the rooms were as shiny and clean as Vault 101 had ever been, in perfect condition and full functioning operation. That, Ellen figured as she opened the next door, was a good sign-
"Welcome to Vault 112, Resident!"
She whirled on one foot and came to a stop with her alien pistol pointed squarely at the central mass of the Robobrain that had spoken. Like all the others she'd seen in the Wasteland, the robot was somewhat taller than her, its bulky torso supported by twin treads and the dome that housed some ancient human brain on top pulsating with light, but its wiggling, snakelike arms hung neatly at its sides. It showed no sign of aggression. In fact, it merely continued speaking in that same cool, synthesized, almost-female voice. "According to sensors, you have arrived 202.3 years behind schedule. Please re-dress in your Vault-Tec issued Vault suit before proceeding. If you have misplaced your suit, I am authorized to distribute a new one."
"My what?" Ellen said, blinking. "I'm not here for-"
The Robobrain turned and opened a box that lay against the wall nearby. Ellen and Dogmeat tensed, but it simply extracted a folded bundle of fabric of a blue color Ellen knew all too well. "Once dressed," it said, "please proceed down the stairs to the main floor so you may enter your assigned Tranquility Lounger."
"My-" Ellen stopped, shaking her head. "Never mind. You're not going to shoot me?"
"I am not programmed for the gratuitous employment of force," the Robobrain answered. "I am merely the greeting staff. Please re-dress in your-"
"Yes, yes, I get it. Which way do I go?"
"Through the door to your left. The changing rooms are down the corridor, and the Tranquility Loungers are at the bottom of the stairs at the end of the hall."
There was something creepy about the thing, but there was something creepy about all Robobrains, and it sat in a dome full of gel at the top of the robot's neck. Ellen could handle Mr. Handies and Protectrons. Just not robots with parts that had once been human. "Thank you," Ellen said, and hurried past.
She glanced only briefly at the changing room door. There hadn't been any such facility in Vault 101, she knew that much- and what the dickens was a tranquility lounger? Some kind of sleeping ... apparatus....
The Robobrain had mentioned stairs at the end of the hallway. It had not mentioned the view from the top of the stairs.
The central room of Vault 112 (nothing this big could be anything but central) held cluster after cluster of huge, egg-shaped pods that reminded her uncomfortably of the simulation room in the Outcasts' armory. That had been one device, though, and it had been surrounded by mainframes and cables in every direction. These things were clustered in groups of a dozen or more, all arranged in circles around central pillars shot through with banks of glimmering red lights. Blue-white lights set into the floor blazed up at either end of each pod, and on the nearest pillar, monitors shone, one for each pod. Ellen counted at least six or seven pillars total before dropping her hand and looking down to her companion. "Dogmeat," she murmured, "what is this place?"
"This is Vault 112, Resident," came the voice of a Robobrain from the bottom of the stairs. "Once you have changed into your Vault-Tec issued Vault suit and entered your-"
"My assigned Tranquility Lounger, right," said Ellen. "The first one told me. What's a Tranquility Lounger?"
"A Tranquility Lounger is a support pod designed by the finest Vault-Tec scientists to care for every possible physical need of Vault 112's residents while at the same time protecting them from external harm," the Robobrain answered. "Its internal interfaces also provide its inhabitants with a sophisticated simulation of daily life to keep up mental stimulation and attend to the user's psychological needs until the all-clear signal is sounded."
A sophisticated- "Virtual reality," she hazarded. "You're talking about virtual reality."
"Overseer Braun has indeed used that term to describe it," the Robobrain confirmed.
"Overseer- Braun? Stanislaus Braun?" Ellen exclaimed, darting down the stairs until she stood face-to-dome with the Robobrain. "The man who invented the GECK?"
"Doctor Stanislaus Braun is in fact the appointed Overseer of Vault 112," the Robobrain confirmed. "You are the second recent arrival to make that inquiry."
Ellen could scarcely speak; her heart was suddenly hammering in her ears. When it had subsided enough for her to hear herself think, she said, "The other recent arrival. Was he about a head taller than me? Gray hair, beard, looked very much like me?"
"I am not programmed to assess similarities of appearance," said the Robobrain smoothly, "but he currently occupies the fourth Tranquility Lounger from the left. I do not possess the authorization necessary to terminate his connection or release his Tranquility Lounger's locks, which cannot be picked or levered open. Pounding on the outside of the Lounger and shouting threats will not accomplish anything either. If you wish to speak with him, I suggest you put on your Vault-Tec issued Vault suit and enter the simulation, as both he and Overseer Braun are currently connected and may be reached in that manner."
Ellen stepped away from her father's pod and eyed the robot with something like loathing; then she sighed. It was only doing what it was programmed to do. "Wait," she said. "Braun is still alive?"
"The undamaged Tranquility Lounger is capable of sustaining life and health for far longer than the standard human lifespan. So long as the appropriately low level of physical activity is maintained, residents of the Tranquility Loungers have nothing to fear from old age."
"Huh." Ellen eyed the pods, considered that- and considered her alternatives, which were few on the floor right now. And it wasn't like she hadn't survived a simulation far, far worse than anything a simple Vault program might offer. "All right," she said. "Give me a moment and I'll go get changed. You're sure I can reach him this way?"
"All Vault 112 residents except for yourself are currently connected to the simulation and can be found within it."
"Thank you," Ellen said, and strode off to the changing room. Well, at least the suit fit... She eyed her pile of armor and her backpack, then shrugged and returned to the vast main room. "Say," she said to the Robobrain, "I left some things upstairs. No one's going to touch them while I'm in there, will they?"
"So long as no need occurs to move them, your possessions will remained untouched."
Ellen nodded, clambering up onto the side of the opening Lounger. "And can you look after my dog? I shouldn't be in there long."
"Your dog will be taken care of," the Robobrain assured her.
"Thanks."
The pod's upper half closed over her. A monitor descended in front of her face, first flashing a test signal, then the green grassy expanse of somewhere she'd never seen. For an instant, a child's face flickered past her vision, but then it was gone....
There was. But it did not light up the ceiling.
Ellen stared with wide, startled eyes as the doors in the garage floor slid apart. Beyond lay, not the storage room she half-expected, but a long, well-lit flight of stairs and a metal-walled room of a familiar design. She started down the stairs, then froze before her foot could come down for the third. Just because no one was in the garage when she found it didn't mean it would stay empty any length of time. Once she'd shoved the grenade components into her pack, she heaved it back on and started down the stairs, Dogmeat at her heels. The room quickly gave way to a short, stone-walled tunnel, lit here and there by lamps that flickered into life as Ellen and Dogmeat approached them.
The last set of lights to switch on lit up the great round door to Vault 112.
Ellen didn't realize until the pain struck upward through her legs that she'd fallen to her knees in shock. Her vision blurred a moment. Tears of pain, probably, she told herself- but when Dogmeat nosed at her with a worried whimper she threw her arms around the dog and all but sobbed with gratitude. It was real, it was real, it was real and she didn't have to search any more... Eventually she let him go and wiped at her cheek ineffectually. "Well," she said as she pushed herself awkwardly to her feet. "Shall we see what's inside?"
Dogmeat shook himself off and gave a faint whuf of reply. Ellen laughed, and tapped in the same Overseer code she'd used on Vault 92. Sure enough, after a heart-stopping moment of silence, the sirens began to blare and the door ground oh-so-slowly back and to the side. It might have been Ellen's imagination, but the door's motion sounded less labored than she'd expected- could it have been opened recently? Had Dad been here? Was he still here?
Well, if he was, he wasn't in the control room that lay just on the other side of the door. And he wasn't in the arch-roofed supply foyer beyond that, either. No one was. On the other hand, both the rooms were as shiny and clean as Vault 101 had ever been, in perfect condition and full functioning operation. That, Ellen figured as she opened the next door, was a good sign-
"Welcome to Vault 112, Resident!"
She whirled on one foot and came to a stop with her alien pistol pointed squarely at the central mass of the Robobrain that had spoken. Like all the others she'd seen in the Wasteland, the robot was somewhat taller than her, its bulky torso supported by twin treads and the dome that housed some ancient human brain on top pulsating with light, but its wiggling, snakelike arms hung neatly at its sides. It showed no sign of aggression. In fact, it merely continued speaking in that same cool, synthesized, almost-female voice. "According to sensors, you have arrived 202.3 years behind schedule. Please re-dress in your Vault-Tec issued Vault suit before proceeding. If you have misplaced your suit, I am authorized to distribute a new one."
"My what?" Ellen said, blinking. "I'm not here for-"
The Robobrain turned and opened a box that lay against the wall nearby. Ellen and Dogmeat tensed, but it simply extracted a folded bundle of fabric of a blue color Ellen knew all too well. "Once dressed," it said, "please proceed down the stairs to the main floor so you may enter your assigned Tranquility Lounger."
"My-" Ellen stopped, shaking her head. "Never mind. You're not going to shoot me?"
"I am not programmed for the gratuitous employment of force," the Robobrain answered. "I am merely the greeting staff. Please re-dress in your-"
"Yes, yes, I get it. Which way do I go?"
"Through the door to your left. The changing rooms are down the corridor, and the Tranquility Loungers are at the bottom of the stairs at the end of the hall."
There was something creepy about the thing, but there was something creepy about all Robobrains, and it sat in a dome full of gel at the top of the robot's neck. Ellen could handle Mr. Handies and Protectrons. Just not robots with parts that had once been human. "Thank you," Ellen said, and hurried past.
She glanced only briefly at the changing room door. There hadn't been any such facility in Vault 101, she knew that much- and what the dickens was a tranquility lounger? Some kind of sleeping ... apparatus....
The Robobrain had mentioned stairs at the end of the hallway. It had not mentioned the view from the top of the stairs.
The central room of Vault 112 (nothing this big could be anything but central) held cluster after cluster of huge, egg-shaped pods that reminded her uncomfortably of the simulation room in the Outcasts' armory. That had been one device, though, and it had been surrounded by mainframes and cables in every direction. These things were clustered in groups of a dozen or more, all arranged in circles around central pillars shot through with banks of glimmering red lights. Blue-white lights set into the floor blazed up at either end of each pod, and on the nearest pillar, monitors shone, one for each pod. Ellen counted at least six or seven pillars total before dropping her hand and looking down to her companion. "Dogmeat," she murmured, "what is this place?"
"This is Vault 112, Resident," came the voice of a Robobrain from the bottom of the stairs. "Once you have changed into your Vault-Tec issued Vault suit and entered your-"
"My assigned Tranquility Lounger, right," said Ellen. "The first one told me. What's a Tranquility Lounger?"
"A Tranquility Lounger is a support pod designed by the finest Vault-Tec scientists to care for every possible physical need of Vault 112's residents while at the same time protecting them from external harm," the Robobrain answered. "Its internal interfaces also provide its inhabitants with a sophisticated simulation of daily life to keep up mental stimulation and attend to the user's psychological needs until the all-clear signal is sounded."
A sophisticated- "Virtual reality," she hazarded. "You're talking about virtual reality."
"Overseer Braun has indeed used that term to describe it," the Robobrain confirmed.
"Overseer- Braun? Stanislaus Braun?" Ellen exclaimed, darting down the stairs until she stood face-to-dome with the Robobrain. "The man who invented the GECK?"
"Doctor Stanislaus Braun is in fact the appointed Overseer of Vault 112," the Robobrain confirmed. "You are the second recent arrival to make that inquiry."
Ellen could scarcely speak; her heart was suddenly hammering in her ears. When it had subsided enough for her to hear herself think, she said, "The other recent arrival. Was he about a head taller than me? Gray hair, beard, looked very much like me?"
"I am not programmed to assess similarities of appearance," said the Robobrain smoothly, "but he currently occupies the fourth Tranquility Lounger from the left. I do not possess the authorization necessary to terminate his connection or release his Tranquility Lounger's locks, which cannot be picked or levered open. Pounding on the outside of the Lounger and shouting threats will not accomplish anything either. If you wish to speak with him, I suggest you put on your Vault-Tec issued Vault suit and enter the simulation, as both he and Overseer Braun are currently connected and may be reached in that manner."
Ellen stepped away from her father's pod and eyed the robot with something like loathing; then she sighed. It was only doing what it was programmed to do. "Wait," she said. "Braun is still alive?"
"The undamaged Tranquility Lounger is capable of sustaining life and health for far longer than the standard human lifespan. So long as the appropriately low level of physical activity is maintained, residents of the Tranquility Loungers have nothing to fear from old age."
"Huh." Ellen eyed the pods, considered that- and considered her alternatives, which were few on the floor right now. And it wasn't like she hadn't survived a simulation far, far worse than anything a simple Vault program might offer. "All right," she said. "Give me a moment and I'll go get changed. You're sure I can reach him this way?"
"All Vault 112 residents except for yourself are currently connected to the simulation and can be found within it."
"Thank you," Ellen said, and strode off to the changing room. Well, at least the suit fit... She eyed her pile of armor and her backpack, then shrugged and returned to the vast main room. "Say," she said to the Robobrain, "I left some things upstairs. No one's going to touch them while I'm in there, will they?"
"So long as no need occurs to move them, your possessions will remained untouched."
Ellen nodded, clambering up onto the side of the opening Lounger. "And can you look after my dog? I shouldn't be in there long."
"Your dog will be taken care of," the Robobrain assured her.
"Thanks."
The pod's upper half closed over her. A monitor descended in front of her face, first flashing a test signal, then the green grassy expanse of somewhere she'd never seen. For an instant, a child's face flickered past her vision, but then it was gone....