the story in which Alex Seattle Geer is right for hating enclosed spaces,

[doubletap]

and Neil Park is blamed for his knowledge of vaults.

---

Terminal Entries:

1st Floor, Vault Entry-Room Computer:
- Data Entry 1: Year 20XX, Month XX; There's no escape.
- Holotape Entry 1: Y#4@ SDhig^8705 H98 [data corrupted]; This is hell and I want out of it.

1st Floor, Cafeteria Luncheon:
- Holotape Entry 2: Private Recording; I've had better?

1st Floor, Cafeteria Supply Room:
- Inventory List: Inventory List; A list of food....
- Data Entry 2: Shift Notes; Maybe I should tear the walls down.

1st Floor, Broken Cave:
- Data Entry 3: Preparations; Everything's fine.
- Data Entry 4: Near the End; I'll tell you the truth, but I won't give up my soul.
- Data Entry 5: Finally, the End is at Hand.; This is far enough.

1st Floor, Office:
- Data Entry 6: Vault-Wide Public Service Announcement; Get back to work everyone.
- Data Entry 7: Locked Administrative Reply; You're reaching for straws.

1st Floor, Administrative Secretary's Office:
- Data Entry 8: Drama Hoes; It is sort of funny that people aren't able to lie, though.
- Holotape Entry 3: Bill Self-Log; Byron's access still works everywhere.

Comments

[doubletap]

[ Alex snorts at the obvious embarrassment and ruffles Neil's hair. Then turns to the room. ]

Either way, we're here now. Let's see if there's anything of use in this rubble.

[goodfight]

[Creeped out escalates to disturbed. He has never admitted to such things. He would rather die than admit such things. And yet--

When Alex is distracted by the setting, Neil turns around to step toward a nearby set of booths, mouthing a "what the hell," to an invisible audience.]

[doubletap]

[ He starts rummaging, passes over radiated food and junk stock. He has enough stimpaks to survive for a couple of weeks so he's not that desperate. There's nothing else useful, not even ammunition. He's about ready to call to move on, when he notices the black and white familiar pattern half-hidden under a booth.

He remembers the Big MT, and tries to forget. Tries not to think of Moebius and Ulyssess and Christine.

He snags the holotape and pops it in to his Pimp-Boy. ]

Hey, found something.

[goodfight]

[When he's collected himself enough to sort through the first set of debris, Alex calls. Carrying away a box of Sugar Bombs, he wanders over to the older man.

At the sight of the gaudy device, Neil sniffs in disgust before eagerly opening the Sugar Bombs box.]

[doubletap]

You know it's sexy.

[ Alex replies to the disgust with a grin. ]

[goodfight]

If you like to stab your eyes.

[Says Neil with a mouthful of Sugar Bombs.]

[doubletap]

[ Alex frowns in a way that could almost be called a pout. ]

It is fucking awful on sunny days when I look at it....

[ --Sob, Pimp-Boy. Anyway, time to play that tape. ]

[simpleagain]

The tape crackles once, then is perfectly clear. There's a harsh groan that's likely familiar in context, then a sigh. A man speaks.

"Mmm, baby."

A woman, a rich alto, chuckles breathlessly.

"That was new... I guess the added excitement makes it more--"

"Risky?"

He laughs; she giggles. She keeps talking.

"I guess recording things aren't that bad.... And if you're the only one who will listen later--"

"No one else would want to listen to that, don't worry."

The woman laughs awkwardly, unsure of the joke, but keeps going light-heartedly.

"Well... Was that as good for you as it was for me?"

"Nah. I've had better--"

"What."

There's a crash, and the sound of a door slamming shut. The guy voices incredulously.

"...I've had better?"

[goodfight]

[The contents of the tape make itself known in clear and precise images in Neil's mind. Normally, he would have lost his appetite, but the ending changes that entirely.

Instead, he swallows a mouthful of cereal and scoffs.]

Ouch, haha.

[What was that guy thinking, giving the blatant truth? Only someone as callous as Neil would dare such an act at the woman's expense. Though, upon consideration, the male sounded surprised by his own answer.

That strikes Neil as odd.]

[doubletap]

[ Hetero-sex is mainly repulsive, and Alex finds nothing useful in the recording. He makes a face at it being logged into his Pimp-Boy now ("Private Recording," indeed), and drops his arm to the side.

He sighs. ]

I don't think there's anything else in this room.

[goodfight]

[The oddity soon leaves Neil's mind, and he looks around to see if there is anything else of interest.

Beyond the counter, there is an opening. He nods toward it.]

That's probably the kitchen.

[Hopefully with more substance than the dining area. Neil drops the box and heads toward the opening, dusting the crumbs off from his fingers with his pant leg.]