Prepared speech of Gus Olson, ombudsman, for the annual overseer election
Location Atrium terminal (Overseer's password)
It can be picked up as a holodisk from the speakers podium in the meeting room, one level directly below the Atrium's terminal in Vault 11's lower level. It can also be read as a terminal entry on the Atrium terminal.
Prepared Speech of Gus Olson, Ombudsman, for the Annual Overseer Election
Good afternoon. Each year it is the appointed task of the ombudsman not only to officiate the election, but to chronicle it in hopes that after the last overseer has finished his term and walked to his death in the chamber beneath his office, and the vault has become still, that one day some excavator from humanity or perhaps some yet-unknown race of super beings might find our records and incorporate them into historical canon.
But lately it's occurred to me that that's not really why. I think the real reason we do it is because we want to believe that somewhere in the archives there's an answer to all of this, or perhaps there will be one when the historical records are completed and the whole story is told. We want it to make sense. To understand why the vault's mainframe will kill us if we do not offer one of our own as a yearly sacrifice. To fully comprehend why we continue to have these elections despite the unfettered corruption that has plagued it for what must be decades by now. There was a simpler time when elections meant shaking hands and kissing babies. But now with the rise of the voting blocs and this infestation of bribery, drug trafficking, smuggling, and God knows what else, we want to know why.
Well I've been through the archives, and I can tell you you won't find the answer there. You'll find an account of the first overseer, who entered the vault as the only citizen aware of the sacrifices that would have to take place. But he didn't have the answers either. If he did, surely he would've foreseen the citizens' anger when he broke the news. Surely he would've guessed that they would want to choose a sacrifice democratically, in the way that we citizens are accustomed to washing our hands of terrible deeds, and that his name would be at the top of the polls, and that the simultaneous vacancy of overseer and martyr would forever fuse the two positions here in Vault 11. But he didn't. He had the answers no more than any of us, and the records state that after the citizens discovered that the sacrificial chamber's password was his wife Betty's first name, and its door was unsealed so he could be offered as the first sacrifice, he walked down into that room crying like a child.
I can only wonder if there are no answers to be found, and we are just going along with this because we don't see another choice. Nevertheless, I still hold onto hope that we can find one. I urge you all to take the journey I took - to remember that it wasn't so long ago that we were ruled by our civility and our dignity, and that those were times when we didn't have to be quite so ashamed. Thank you.