Part 13: Are You My Daddy?

Update 13: Are You My Daddy?



"What do you mean by proper authorization?"

"You know, proper authorization. If you want to get into Vault City you need to speak to Wallace, Head of Customs. He can issue you a Day Pass."

"You keep using these words like I already know what they mean."

"A Day Pass'll get you into our city… if you've got business here. Now move along, I don't have time to talk to Outworlders."

"Yeah, I can see you're real busy here."



There was a little weasel in the front to direct me toward the person who could actually help me. Bureaucracy is wonderful tool for keeping such people employed.



He also offered to set me up with a set of fake papers, but judging by his overall competence I didn't trust the papers to actually pass a thorough inspection. Instead, I prepared my best bullshit pitch and stepped into the office.



"I'd like to enter the city."

"If you want to enter Vault City, then you'll need a good reason. Only a Vault Citizen has the right to come and go as they please. All others must procure a Day Pass."

"It's very important you let me in to speak to your leader."



"That's why it's vital I speak to her. I'll be sure to throw in a good word about how efficiently the Customs Office is being run. But if you can't help me, then…"

"Well, I didn't say I couldn't help you, it's just that… well… what is the purpose of your visit?"

"I can't tell you personally, Officer, as much as I'd to. It's for the First Citizen's ears alone. That's why it's vital I speak to her."

"Hmmmm. Well… hmmm. This is most irregular…"

"I wouldn't trouble you if it wasn't a matter of extreme urgency, Officer. I'll be sure to mention how helpful you were when I speak to the First Citizen."



The basics of dealing with bureaucracy are to make sure they see something in it for them, always address them by their title so they feel important, and make it sound like by doing you a favor they're going to be involved in something much bigger and important than their normal business. If you can line up those three things in a single conversation you'll never have trouble getting someone to help you.



"Uh… what for? And how thorough of a search are we talking here?"

"Sometimes Outworlders try to smuggle alcohol or habit-forming chems into Vault City: Buffout, Jet, Psycho, Mentats… that sort of thing. And for your second question, there's a reason we have a box of rubber gloves here."

"I.. uh.. I'll be right back. I forgot something."



"Sulik, hold these. And don't ask any questions."

"Do you actually think this is going to work?"

"Would you search him, if you were a gate guard?"

"Point made."



"It worked… but why did we do it?"

"Because if something's forbidden, that means there's a market for it."



And damned if there wasn't a bar right inside the gates, although how that squared with alcohol being forbidden I couldn't immediately figure out. My first thought was that they just wanted to establish a monopoly.



I was destined to an even greater disappointment. They were actually charging money for fake alcohol as if were real. I don't even know what some of varieties were supposed to be.

"Uh, do you have any real alcohol?"

"Once upon a time we did. A merchant had a stash."

"Well what happened to it? What's this crap?"



"You know, I travel out in the waste a lot… I might be able to bring you something back."

"Oh really? Well, if you had some real alcohol I could make it worth your while if you can keep quiet about our deal."

"How much would you be wanting?"

"I've got to hide it from the guards too, so nothing big. Let's try for 10 bottles of booze and 10 bottles of beer."

"Sulik, you heard the lady."



"You just lucky that you didn't give me more time or there be only 9 bottles left."



"What is this place? I'd say it was about house sized, but it looks kind of… bookish."

"This is the Information Center for Vault City. We're currently in the process of transforming all of our books into electronic versions so we're terribly busy."

"But…what's going to happen to all the books? Are you sure this is a good idea?"



"Oh, well I'm sorry to hear that all the books were transcribed. I'd much rather read a book than stare at a computer screen."

"Hmm… well, you know, it's not like they're keeping track of the books… these ones have already been scanned, so nobody would miss them if they were gone. I'd rather they go to someone who'll appreciate them than in the garbage."

"I'd love to have them. Thanks."

This gets us two Science books and a Repair Manual. You actually have to have an intelligence of 7 or higher to get this dialogue… evidently anybody dumber than that doesn't appreciate the value of reading.



The next stop was the Servant Allocation Center, which had a big sign that you couldn't miss as well as the only three story bunk beds I've ever seen. I don't know how they figured someone was going to fit between the top bunk and the ceiling, but I guess the people outside the cells didn't see how that was their problem.



"I'm looking for a particular Servant… Joshua, I believe. Is he here?"

"Joshua? Yes, we do have a Servant by that name. He was recently transferred from the Corrections Center. Your interest in him is…?"

I tried my best to keep a straight face. Somehow I managed.

"I suspect he has a contagious disease. You might want to release him before he infects the other Servants."



Somehow, I swear, they actually bought it. Luke's Syndrome was actually a valid diagnosis in Vault City for a few weeks until someone actually asked the regular doctor about it and he almost died of an aneurism from sheer stupidity. They let Joshua go, though, so that was all that mattered.



They even had a street corner preacher, which as far as I was concerned at the time made this the town that had everything. We stood there and listened for a minute, and I might have gotten a bit carried away...



We talked for a while about what shitheads the people in Vault City were, which I could see even though I'd been here for all of about a day.



Next thing I knew, I was agreeing to deliver a mysterious briefcase to someone named John Bishop in New Reno. I was just hoping by then that it wasn't as common a name as it sounded like.



The next building over just about gave me a heart attack. I was only 20 so having a woman older than I was call me dad probably shouldn't have provoked that reaction, but I guess it was a pretty deep seated fear. Luckily, she was talking to Vic… although we had to sit there through their argument.



The argument didn't do anything to improve her disposition. Honestly, Vic's daughter was a lot sharper and more caustic than he'd ever dream of being.



I ended up giving her the wrench we'd found and a set of pliers as a peace offering to help her tool collection. That woman loved her tools… those were even enough to make up for being a friend of her dad's.



"Raiders? Do you need some help with that?"

"What, you some kind of good Samaritan? I don't buy it."

"Funny thing I've noticed… if I help people, I usually find out that I somehow make out pretty well myself in the process."

"Hmm. Well, I ain't going to turn down any help at this point. You find their base, or even better, wipe them out, go tell the First Citizen."



"Wait, they stop before they overrun your guards? How many raiders are we talking about here?"

"I've seen them do it. The last attack, they disabled a laser turret on the western perimeter. They had a clear shot into the city. Then I saw one of their "captains" ORDER them to fall back. Makes no sense."

"What doesn't make sense to me is that you guys actually have laser turrets. Where the hell are these guys coming from?"

"They keep retreating south. I can't spare any men to go scout the area, and the entire place is a maze of canyons. You can try if you want, but the only way they'll let us find them is if we use a map."

"If that's what it takes, that's what I'll do."



Further on down the street the Council building loomed over the rest of the city like some kind of ponderous mushroom. It looked kind of cobbled together, but it was probably the largest and most impressive building I'd seen out in the wastes.



"Wait, I just have to take a test? Does it involve small radscorpions, plastic explosives, or musclebound jerk-asses trying to beat you up?"

"What? Good God no! Just some advanced mathematics, spatial relationships, deductive reasoning, language comprehension… oh, and there is also a thorough physical examination?"

"You guys are determined to probe me one way or the other, aren't you? At least this is a doctor instead of a guard… anybody else taking it?"

"I don' think so mon, only math I know is hammer and bones means another spirit to talk to Grampy Bone."

"I don't think I'd pass the psychical, with my ticker."

"I think I'll just stick to having my daughter bring me in."



"Oh come on! That test was rigged!"

"Well, I regret to inform you that I cannot grant you Citizenship at this time. If I may say so, your grasp of spatial relations borders on imperceptive."

It is possible to pass the Vault Citizenship test, but you need to have a perception, intelligence, and luck of at least 9. You can use drugs to make up the difference… but that requires having access to Mentats already, and no drugs will do anything for your luck.

Out of luck with that avenue, we took to wandering the halls of the Council building in hopes of finding someone who could help us. What we found instead was...



I wasn't sure, but First Citizen seemed like it was likely to mean that she was in charge of the entire place.

"I am in search of a Garden of Eden Creation Kit, First Citizen. Does your city have one I might purchase?"

"Where did one such as YOU hear of a Garden of Eden Creation Kit? Such technology is not meant for Outsiders!"

"Hey, who are you calling you? I'm the descendant of the Vault Dweller and I need that Geck to help my village… First Citizen."

"Descendant of the Vault Dweller? What do you mean?"

"I am the great grandchild of the first Vault Dweller."



"I don't know… you see, I'm trying to find the Vault my ancestor came from. It's been about 80 years, so our ancestral memory is kind of foggy."

"I find your story highly suspicious. What proof do you have?"

"I have this Vault jumpsuit, and this canteen. They belonged to my ancestor."



"Oh, now you're all helpful? Do you have a GECK or not?"

"I'm sorry, but we used ours to start Vault City. I do not believe there were any spares, but you could check the Acquisitions office."

"So this is what a GECK does? This is actually pretty nice."

"Okay, my ancestors came from Vault 13. Any idea where that is? Maybe a record in your computers?"

"I'm afraid that access to our computers is restricted to citizens. You will have to speak to Proconsul Gregory and take the citizenship test."

"Yeah, about that…"



"I think I see where this is going."

"That's the kind of place this is, kid. All high and mighty until they need something from you."

"Alright, so what do I have to do for you?"



"They're poisoning the groundwater? That's terrible!"

"Those… things… are operating a damaged atomic power plant. You see, THEY are immune to radiation… they don't care that they are slowly killing us with their poisons."

"Wait… do they even know they're causing a problem?"

"I want you to go up to that town and solve this problem. Come back when the issue is 'resolved' and I'll make you a citizen."

We left after that, trying to figure out what to do. Lynette had just tried to get me to commit genocide in exchange for citizenship in Vault City. There had to be a better way, and to find it I was going to have to go to Gecko and take a look for myself.