Jack Ryan (
did_unkindly) wrote in
weathertop2013-02-23 02:59 am
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darling it's better down where it's wetter
It's been a day, it's been a day, it's been a whole damn day -- as near as it's possible to tell in this soggy excuse for a city. It's been a day since he killed Fontaine. And Jack is no closer to getting out. He's still down here. He did everything he was supposed to do and he's still down here.
All he's found is locked-down bathyspheres. Broken submarines. Even the goddamn boats are out of service. Where's Tenenbaum? Where's his fucking rescue?
Jack stares about into the greenish gloom, checks the ammo in his pistol, and then kicks and yanks off the rusting panel of a vending machine. His hands are soon full of little wires and pipes. A few seconds later, he straightens up with a grunt, and the machine gives him a tidy discount on a couple glowing hypos of EVE.
With his visit extended indefinitely, he's begun to wonder how many of them are left.
Now arbitrarily divided into chapters!
Part One: A Scene at the Rapture Adoption Agency ~or~ You Found [Pot of Ham]!
Part Two: Come On-A My House, I'm Gonna Give-A You Candy ~or~ Sinclair? More Like Sin Pantalones!
Part Three: Dream Sequences are a Fresh New Concept in Fiction ~or~ It's My Existential Trauma and I'll Cry if I Want To
Part Four: Southern Education Jokes ~or~ Engineer, Engifar, Engiwherever You Are ~or~ The Grave Escape
Part Five: Golfing Accident Memoirs ~or~ Mom... Dad... I'm Immortal ~or~ How To Make Friends And Immolate People
Part Six: Is It A Pie? Is It A Plane?? ~or~ Two's Company, Three's a Row
Part Seven: Escort Missions! In Rapture! Council's In An Uproar ~or~ Bioshock: Cheesecake Edition
Part Eight: Bread, Milk, BATTLE! ~or~ Pleasant Conversations, How They Bore Me
Part Nine: Choices, Schmoices ~or~ Baby's First Moral Philosophy ~or~ Go Away I Want To Take A Damn Bath
Part Ten: A Man Snoozes; A Slave Delays ~or~ The Four Second Rule Applies To Drugs
Part Eleven: A Hearty Meal ~or~ Skeletons In The-- That's Not A Closet
Part Twelve: We All Live in a Secret Submarine ~or~ Plasmids: Not Even Once
Part Thirteen: Paging Dr Tenenbaum To Surgery ~or~ Bribery And Deduction
Part Fourteen: The Prodigal Son Returns
All he's found is locked-down bathyspheres. Broken submarines. Even the goddamn boats are out of service. Where's Tenenbaum? Where's his fucking rescue?
Jack stares about into the greenish gloom, checks the ammo in his pistol, and then kicks and yanks off the rusting panel of a vending machine. His hands are soon full of little wires and pipes. A few seconds later, he straightens up with a grunt, and the machine gives him a tidy discount on a couple glowing hypos of EVE.
With his visit extended indefinitely, he's begun to wonder how many of them are left.
Now arbitrarily divided into chapters!
Part One: A Scene at the Rapture Adoption Agency ~or~ You Found [Pot of Ham]!
Part Two: Come On-A My House, I'm Gonna Give-A You Candy ~or~ Sinclair? More Like Sin Pantalones!
Part Three: Dream Sequences are a Fresh New Concept in Fiction ~or~ It's My Existential Trauma and I'll Cry if I Want To
Part Four: Southern Education Jokes ~or~ Engineer, Engifar, Engiwherever You Are ~or~ The Grave Escape
Part Five: Golfing Accident Memoirs ~or~ Mom... Dad... I'm Immortal ~or~ How To Make Friends And Immolate People
Part Six: Is It A Pie? Is It A Plane?? ~or~ Two's Company, Three's a Row
Part Seven: Escort Missions! In Rapture! Council's In An Uproar ~or~ Bioshock: Cheesecake Edition
Part Eight: Bread, Milk, BATTLE! ~or~ Pleasant Conversations, How They Bore Me
Part Nine: Choices, Schmoices ~or~ Baby's First Moral Philosophy ~or~ Go Away I Want To Take A Damn Bath
Part Ten: A Man Snoozes; A Slave Delays ~or~ The Four Second Rule Applies To Drugs
Part Eleven: A Hearty Meal ~or~ Skeletons In The-- That's Not A Closet
Part Twelve: We All Live in a Secret Submarine ~or~ Plasmids: Not Even Once
Part Thirteen: Paging Dr Tenenbaum To Surgery ~or~ Bribery And Deduction
Part Fourteen: The Prodigal Son Returns
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"Of course." She takes the final drop of whiskey, looks at him without warmth, and stands.
"If only there were more alive to wonder." Matter of fact. He's a smart guy, he'll know what she's referring to.
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It hurts to say. She has given Jack more than his share of chances, paid that debt -- and if he and Sinclair collaborate to reach the surface, her girls will be in danger -- but it hurts. It hurts to say. And that, in part, is what gives her voice so much gravity.
"It is to give advice about the child. Help him if you choose, but do not expect him to remember the kindness."
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He holds the door for her, but doesn't follow.
Maybe she's right about Jack. After all, apparently she knows him better. But he can't make himself buy it. He's not sure it's something he could explain if he tried.
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"Good evening."
And she leaves -- noting with considerable relief that Jack is still asleep. It's time to go home, with a little more knowledge than before, and a lot more discomfort.
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He doesn't need Jack to repay him anything. All he needs is to get to the surface. Once that happens, he'll have so much that he won't even remember what Jack might owe him. That's not an issue.
The issue is what everyone is hiding. Something to do with where Jack comes from, something to do with Andrew Ryan and that plane crash. All of these miscellaneous parts, and nothing to stick them on. It's exasperating.
What he needs right now is that bath. While Jack's still asleep. Just soak for a minute, change his bandage, he'll feel better in no time.
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Yeah.
About that.
Jack's a light sleeper.
There's just something about mom and dad arguing that makes the world a much safer place with the blanket over his head, and his eyes closed tight.
One set of footsteps has left. The other is going to the kitchen, then the bathroom. He thinks it might be safe to come out.
Quiet footsteps pad after Sinclair's. Jack has the blanket wrapped around his shoulders, and his eyes are anxious and wholly awake.
"...Mister Sinclair?"
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"Kid," he laughs, "I thought you were sleeping. How're you feeling?"
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Worried, confused, kinda mad...
"...Why was Doctor Tenenbaum here?"
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You know about that huh.
Well uh.
Sinclair smiles at Jack, although it's a bit crooked. He'd just assumed Jack was out cold. He probably should have known better.
"I ran into her on the way back from the store. We stumbled upon some splicer trouble and she helped me out so I figured I at least owed her a drink."
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So his whole face is frowning.
"Why did she go? I - I said I wanted to talk to her."
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Yeah. Yeah, that's plausible.
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No. No it's not.
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Sinclair sighs and turns off the tap, leaning back on the edge of the tub.
"I can't say I blame her, sport. Those are her little girls you've been killing off for ADAM. But I told her you didn't have a choice."
Because you didn't, of course.
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"I don't!"
He doesn't think it through, but agrees, because the scary side of making choices is blame.
"She made them, they're not even people, how can she be mad?"
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And maybe that makes him heartless, agreeing that they're not human at all. He does feel a certain amount of sympathy. They're just children, and what happened to them is horrible. But Sinclair's feelings on the matter aren't going to save them. It's what he says and who he says it to that makes a difference. That's the only thing he can control here.
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"But she shouldn't," he says miserably, as if that'll explain it.
Then--
"I'm gonna follow her."
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"If she didn't want to talk to you when she was here willingly, she's not gonna talk any easier if you go busting down her door."
Then, softer, "Let it lie, son. You'll get another shot at it."
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He puts a hand on his face, then drops it and wrings his wrench instead. He should listen to Sinclair. Sinclair knows how to do... you know, people things... better than Jack does. But that doesn't make Jack's worries go away.
True confession time: "I think she hates me."
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Disappointment was the ruling emotion he picked up there, not actual hatred. But that wouldn't make Jack feel any better, he's gonna keep that to himself.
"Don't worry, we'll see her again. I think if we can reach some sort of understanding, we may be able to help each other out. You'll get your chance, kid, promise."
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You shouldn't get mad at something you made for doing what you made it to do.
You shouldn't.
He doesn't speak for a little while -- in part because jeez, he doesn't want to cry in front of Sinclair again, that was a bad time.
But there is a question he wants to venture. He's been more or less sure of the answer at various times, but he's never thought to straight up ask somebody. And in the end he asks it with a tone that expects a yes-or-no answer, a tone you'd hear in the classroom -- Is Oxford the capital of England? Is two plus two four?
"Is it wrong to kill them?"
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He pauses, searching the tile floor like he'll find an answer there.
"I don't know," he says finally. "I think that's a personal choice, son."
And that's the wrong thing to ask in a city that was founded on the belief that trying to decide between right or wrong is a waste of time and a hindrance to research.
"I know Doctor Tenenbaum thinks it's wrong," he offers. "For whatever that's worth to you."
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Concentrating on issues of philosophy is less stressful than thinking about Tenenbaum, at least.
"...That seems like a really important thing to be a choice."
Surely it'd make more sense if someone was just right or wrong about... whether something's right or wrong. I mean if it's up to interpretation anyway then why is there a word for it? This 'man chooses' stuff is more complex than the brochure promised.
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He says it with a laugh, but man. This is a really sheltered kid. Even Tenenbaum thinks of him as a child, sometimes it seems like he'd never faced any real problems until he came here. Maybe things were just that simple for him in Kansas.
That's a terrible thing to leave behind. Especially for something like this.
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Jack pulls a face, still frustrated. More choices. And choices are a lot better than what he was doing before, don't get him wrong. But he wishes they could be as simple.
They don't even always work, that's the worst part. He chose to leave Rapture, so he should be out of it by now, right? Apparently not! And it's kind of starting to eat him alive, like maybe he didn't want it enough, or maybe he just inherently can't make successful choices, was never meant to.
"Well... choices should be easier."
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