Chapter 1: Exposition
Thank God.
The vault doors slide closed just as Kelvin manages to get inside. He looks around, hoping to see people he knows inside as well. Instead, he sees no one. Is he the only one? Then he sees her. A woman you'd have to be dead not to know the name of. Zeta. Kelvin stares at her for a moment, unable to speak. Then finally, words. Just as he almost speaks, Zeta holds up a palm towards him.
"Whatever you are about to say, don't. Yes, I think we are the only ones in here. No I won't pose for a picture. You will not speak to me unless spoken to. Whoever you are, you dont mean anything to me and being locked in here changes nothing."
Suddenly red lights and sirens blare.
"Vault sealed successfully." A few moments pass, then. "All external sensors are offline. Unexpected radiation levels have prevented connection to the Vault-Tec network. All servers are offline."
Kelvin looked around, finally recognizing that he was completely alone. He would be in this vault until he died, the radiation outside would take decades before anyone could even safely open the entrance to the vault without killing everyone inside.
The tinny voice comes again from the speakers. "Vault 84 is now the last known bastion of humanity. Your role is now imperative to the future of mankind. Survive and prepare your descendants to return to the surface."
Kelvin looked at Zeta. Descendants? The look of disgust she had anytime she looked at him told him that would never happen.
"That will never happen," Zeta scoffs. "I guess mankind's turn is over. Move over for the cockroaches."
Zeta walked dismissively out of the entry area without another glance at Kelvin.
He watched her go, then muttered to himself, "Well, that wasn't the welcoming committee I was expecting."
He looked around, taking in the vastness of the vault. "At least it's big enough so I won't have to see her all the time," he thought. He started making his way towards the control room, remembering the layout from the blueprints he'd studied.
Meanwhile, Zeta had found herself in what appeared to be the living quarters. She looked around, her nose scrunching up at the sterile, utilitarian decor.
This was not the luxurious penthouse she was used to. There were no high-end designers, no plush fabrics, no art on the walls. Just cold metal and harsh fluorescent lights. She felt a pang of panic rise in her chest. She tried to push it down, but it was hard. She was used to being in control, being the center of attention. Here, she was just... another survivor.
She found a row of doors, each with blinking red lights next to what looked like ident pads. Probably some form of personal spaces set to be claimed by the vault dwellers.
Well, she would just claim every room In this hallway. This way, that man, she hadn't even learned his name, would have to find somewhere else to stay.
She immediately began going from blinking pad to blinking pad, scanning her prints and claiming each room for herself. Finally having finished her plan, she opened one of the doors at random and stepped inside.
What lay inside upset her almost as much as when that machine had tried to tell her to prepare future generations.
There was a bed, a mirror, and a dresser, all a uniform slate metal color. When she opened the dresser, she saw it was filled with multiple, identical blue outfits with gold trim and the number 84 emblazoned in bright gold on the breast. She gagged. It seemed she would be wearing her current outfit until it fell apart.
A mechanical voiced chirped from the dresser. "The standard garb of all vault dwellers, this outfit can be tailored to fit your exact measurements." The door of the room popped open and in came a Mr. Fix-It bot.
Zeta had owned several before, mostly for the status, only one was really needed for most cleaning, but the sight of them had always slightly unnerved her. It glided into the room, hovering over the ground with multiple appendages spinning around and stretching in and out.
"OH, no. I'm fine. I don't need any tailoring right now. I've got clothes that fit just fine, thank you very much." Zeta backed away from the spinning machine, but it didn't halt its advance.
"To discourage animosity amongst those dwelling in the vaults, all personal articles of clothing must be disposed of. Uniform garments have been prepared for all members of vault 84."
"No no no." Zeta screamed. "No one else will care if I wear this dress. I will not wear that... that horrid outfit."
The robot continued to glide closer, stretching out appendages to block her escape, while other arms reached out, snipping her outfit across the shoulders and down the sides, causing the luxury fabric to fall to the ground in neatly snipped pieces.
Zeta now stood before the Mr. Fix-It robot completely naked. Two of its arms dipped adeptly into the dresser, pulling out some bright blue and hold pants and shirt, then reached out to her.
"I will not wear those clothes." Zeta gasped, shocked at the robots efficiency at destroying her only memento of the outside world. She knew it was only a robot, but she still worked to cover herself while trying to avoid the outstretched arms trying to fit her into the uniform.
"Listen to me, you metal monstrosity! I am Zeta Karvo. I've modeled for the top designers in the world. I've worn clothes that cost more than this entire vault. I will not wear this... this... jumpsuit!"
The robot paused, its multiple appendages retracting slightly. Then, in a voice that echoed around the small room, it said, "Zeta Karvo, you are now a member of Vault 84. All personal belongings and clothing must be discarded. This is for the good of the collective."
Zeta stared at the robot, speechless.