The Plan of a Master, Part One

By Andrew Vittoria, AKA True Raven

“Mereua, you know we’ll get in hot water for this,” a slightly slender young man said, “I mean, sure we’re doing something good for the Vault, but I want to see the outside whenever the doors are supposed to open.”

Richard Mereua, Head of Scientific Studies of Vault 8, looked up from the computer screen and a small smile creased his lips. A fit, trim man in his early 30s, with dark brown hair and a short, curly brown beard, Mereua was the most intelligent man in the Vault by far. “Sam, trust me. I’ve taken all the necessary precautions. And if, by some miracle, we are caught, I will take full responsibility. You have nothing to worry about, trust me.”

Sam Boyarsky unconsciously touched the small ring on his left hand for a second before answering. “Rich, you know I trust you. I’ve just got a future to think about now.” Sam was a young man in his mid 20s and one of the few men in the Vault who could hold more than intelligent conversation with Richard Mereua. With short, light brown hair and a face old women loved to pinch, Sam sometimes looked more like a schoolboy rather than Assistant to the Head of Scientific Studies of Vault 8.

Vault 8 was home to 6,749 residents whose parents had made it to safety after the Nuclear War that destroyed the world. World War III, as it was called by some, had been the most horrific plight the world had ever known. Most thought it would have ended the human race, ended all life forever. But, as a wise man once said, life will find a way.

The United States built massive Vaults before the war. Very few know how many there really are but they were designed to provide safety for people who may then start over and make up for the mistakes of their ancestors. Vault 8 was just an ordinary Vault, with the ordinary rules. Each Vault had an Overseer who was the equivalent of a President. When the first people of Vault 8 arrived, they decided that they were to emulate the former United States to make sure the Overseer didn’t become too powerful. Therefore, Vault 8 citizens elected a Vault Council to counteract the Overseer. When a member of the Council dies or becomes too ill to do his duty to the Vault, a new Council member is elected. Of course, any Overseer could be a bad apple in disguise. Only the Vault Council can remove an Overseer, and they needed evidence he was that proverbial bad apple.

“Sam, we all deserve to know the truth about why we are here. The Overseer seems to think that this Vault is not the democracy the United States once was. If we are to re-establish the former United States of America, as he says we are, then why does he limit our ability to vote on which direction the Citizens of Vault 8 should take when we emerge from this technological hell-hole? Why does he force his will on us with his “Vault Police”? The Communistic Theory he seems to be implementing here lead to the destruction of the world for Pete’s Sake!” Mereua was red faced and scowling, far from amiably, towards Boyarsky. Mereua had a temper and more than once spent the night in the Vault 8 Detentional Facilities.

Slowly Mereua took a deep breath, as if he knew what the other man was thinking. “Sam, I know that filthy bastard is hiding something in his Overseer Logs and if I have to hack into it to expose him for the fraud he is then damnit I will!”

“Rich I trust you, just understand that I don’t want anything to happen to Lucy. I haven’t been married long, but I know that without her I couldn’t find the will to keep going.”

Slowly the knot that had been forming in Mereua’s forehead began to loosen and the red in his face went away. “Always remember one thing my friend, you can always trust me. And you do, yes?” After a quick nod from Sam he continued, “Now let’s get back to business here.” A small frown came across his face. “Hmmm, it seems as if our friend the Overseer has put up some new defenses around his spot on the Vault Records. I think I can get around them, if the inventor of the program could maybe give me a hand?”

Smiling broadly, Mereua motioned to the seat next to him. Boyarsky seemed a little hesitant, but sat down and looked at the screen. Strings of code filled his eyes as Mereua scrolled down the seemingly endless series of nonsense that is computer code.

“Stop there,” a slightly jittery Boyarsky murmured, “fifth line down after the ampersand. His password is ‘VaultFallout’.”

“Humph. If we’re right someone will be ‘falling out’ won’t they, Sam?” A slight movement of the head was all Mereua saw before continuing. “Now shall we read some records our friend to Overseer has deemed too important for public viewing? But where to start…” Another frown turned his mouth. “How about here? The Overseer was acting a little bit odd on Thursday wasn’t he? Yes, that’s where we should start.”

The soft tapping of Mereua’s fingertips on the keyboard was all that was heard in the room for seconds before words filled the screen in front of the two men. Then the silence was broken abruptly with a slow gasp from Boyarsky and another scowl followed by a deep growl from Mereua. After scrolling down for a second, these words filled the screen: 

Thursday May 12 

To: drgrandua.vt8 

Mereua’s face was scarlet and a vein was throbbing in his right temple. His right hand was visibly shaking as he spoke in the most thunderous whisper Boyarsky had ever heard. “That bloody bastard! Not what I was looking for but if anything else now I know what he wants. And Dr. Grandua too. Boyarsky help me post this to the public forum. If we can get it there we can surely-”

Mereua was silenced suddenly by the Vault 8 alarm system. The doors around the room opened and a flood of men dressed in the blue and red of the Vault Police stormed in. All were armed with Cattle Prods and Colt Pistols, and none wore more than a devious smile on their faces.

“So my dear friend Richard Mereua and his assistant Sam Boyarsky how are you?” A man best described as a small giant entered the room. Henson Reliche was a man who was seldom opposed by other members of the Vault. With close cut blond hair, a face seemed carved from stone and almost black eyes that seemed always searching and piercing, Reliche’s face alone would have sent most men running. Add to that his exceptional height of roughly 6’6, a close fitting Vault Suit that showed all his rippled muscle and deep voice that would have set the bravest man to quaking knees, you had a man who seemed destined for leadership. That is, if not a good fight anyway. Reliche never seemed happy but now he looked more than ferocious and his voice boomed.

“The two of you would have much explaining to do if I didn’t already find you guilty of treason to Vault 8. Hacking into our confidential files? Tsk tsk. I would have thought a man with your smarts would have known that to be wrong Dr. Mereua. No matter, now. Let’s get on to what to do with you.”

A smile that barely touched his lips somehow seemed to make his face all the more intimidating, but Mereua didn’t even blink. Instead he looked defiantly into the eyes of his accuser and began to speak, “Overseer Reliche, how are you? I hope you are quite well, really I do. I want you to be in perfect heath, in mind and body, when I expose you for the fraud you are. I want you to hear every statement at your trial and I want you to remember every detail of the setting. If it was possible I would want you to remember the pain of your indefinite execution.” Mereua then smiled a smile that could have broken steel; “You will go down, Overseer, one way or another.”

If Reliche looked dangerous before, he now looked more than villainous. A small vein started to throb in his temple as he restrained himself from lashing out in a rage. A leader can’t look like a madman or crack from anger and still keep the trust of his command, Mereua knew this and that the only man in Vault 8 with a worse temper than himself was the Overseer. Playing mental chess with the Head Scientist was always ill advised.

Slowly he calmed himself and the Overseer spoke, “Guards take them to the Detentional Facilities. They will get one meal a day and water twice. Just enough to keep them alive, mind you. There will be no trial but I believe I have the perfect punishment for these fine young scientists. Take them now!” Somehow grinning gleefully yet angrily, the Overseer disappeared back into the doorway from which he came.

Guards then handcuffed Boyarsky and Mereua and lead them to their cells to await a punishment unjustified, from a man who could be crueler than most humans could imagine.


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