Lila Ashrend – Our Daughter

From the depths of my despair a triumph has been delivered to me – I am pregnant, with child, a gift given to me by no other than Reo. Neither of us likely imagined that this could or would be a result of our isolated one-night love affair but you know what they say once is all it takes. You might ask HOW I know it is Reo's? I know because my spouse is incontinent, inept, incapable of fathering child but he'll do anything to see that doesn't go public or come out into the open. He's so desperate to keep this secret, desperate enough he'd even claim a child not his own. She is blessing, there is no doubt of that, all I have left of Reo after my foolishness of letting him go…

Lila Ashrend – Lily

I have decided to name her Lily, it is what Reo has always wanted to name his firstborn daughter. Even now the childhood memories we share are fresh in my mind and a source of great comfort. All those years ago, he was such a good sport, even though it gave the other children reason to give him grief he never refused me, never refused to play house or hide-and-go-seek. Naturally he was the husband and Daddy, I was the wife and Mother, and my dolls our children. Now in reflection I wish those play dates had become a reality but for all the things I have done wrong, finally I can do something right. If Reo wants a daughter named Lily than he shall have her…


Rapture

Beneath the Atlantic Ocean


Five Years, thousands of miles away across and below sea and somehow he still managed to regret over all that time and distance. Ever since parting with the surface and Lila he had been functioning, admirably and efficiently actually but still his social life stagnated, his social life could be explained as 'dry' at best. Rapture had been the perfect place to go, to forget or forget as much as it was possible to. Although Andrew Ryan had closed down the city many years previous, he'd been welcomed with open arms. Rapture wasn't the kind of city were he'd fit in with the scientists, artists, or techies but he'd quickly found out how high a demand his abilities were. In Rapture being able to shove your weight around meant a great deal. It wasn't any real surprise to find out that Ryan had summoned the best security force for himself and his interests, his pool ran pretty damn deep, he had almost every kind of soldier imaginable – enforcers, terrorist, gangsters, ex-military, bodyguard, special ops. He was only one damn piece of the large puzzle that was Ryan's 'hold' on Rapture. As the years had gone on he was sure that their efforts were the only thing that was keeping Rapture together but of late he'd begun to doubt even that, wondering if their efforts was what was damning it More often than not it felt like their efforts to defend the city was dooming it.

Anymore he ran a sixteen hour shifts broken by four to five hours of unsettled sleep then back in for eight or twelve hours and shutting down for a day or so. There is no way he'd be able to manage a social life, which was a little something to be thankful for. The only 'companionship' he had was his off and on mistress Maevja, more often called 'Maeve', who clearly thought him overworked and overdoing it. Maybe he was but it was a relief that it gave him excuse to avoid her sometimes, sometimes he was sure she was 'stepping over the line' wanting a lot more than he wanted or paid her for. One thing was certain in his mind she wasn't his wife and wasn't likely to be any time soon. Marriage was the last thing on his mind and for more than once he considered he very well might die a bachelor with no issue. Grim but for Ryan it had been one more plus to an already impeccable resume, no wife or children meant no dependents therefore he wouldn't 'go soft' and sympathize with others who did. It didn't mean he was unjust or mean simply that he'd not be susceptible to emotional bias. To a degree even children seemed like 'parasites' to Ryan, that was a view he didn't agree on so much though he saw the purpose of a objective or neutral task force in enforcing the laws.

The trouble was a lot of people didn't live by the law; some hadn't for a long, long time. Even he joined their number albeit discreetly, the last thing he could be considered is being a fool, even the idiots of Rapture, the spliced morons saw things weren't go 'so well' but he'd been leery of Rapture from the beginning, the society had been building up and rolling along several years before he'd been brought down here but Ryan had brought him down for a reason and in his line of work the 'reason' you called in muscle was to deal with problems. Topside guarding a few rich pricks was nothing to prepare him for Rapture, nothing topside could have because Rapture was made to be different than the surface, compared to the law and order rising from the ashes of the two World Wars Rapture could be considered to be its own state of anarchy, at first it was faint but it was there. That is why he had a back up plan, always have to have one of those even if it is a vague undefined outline, you had to have a goal in mind. As soon as he'd gotten settled in Rapture he'd looked for the smuggling rings, he knew they existed because he was instructed to ferret them out and hunt them down. Instead he found them and cut them a deal, he'd pay for their services and assure their survival as much as he was able to but he wanted them to make surface runs, to check up on his apartments, keep his affairs in order so he'd have a place to escape to if Rapture went really, really bad. At first it had been tempting to bring down mementos of his time on the surface and time with Lila but then he'd remembered he left them there to leave even her memory behind. He did however have them bring down his mail and messages, so he could manage to keep his life on the surface running smoothly even if he wasn't there.

Today was another such day, a rendezvous with Fontaine's smugglers for this six month's worth of mail and the cassettes from his 'message machine'. Typically they'd use to make runs on a monthly basis but with the effort being put into hunting them down the smugglers had still 'played ball' but downscaled the operations to avoid generating too much attention. At a result personal raids got shelved for months at a time, he could pay well but not as well as an entire host of individuals thus Fontaine's smuggling priorities went to the things that could make him the most money. The inconvenience had been annoying but bearable, most of the time the mail went into the trash and the voice messages were trivial in nature – business and telemarketing. He'd never had friends on the surface so he never got calls from friends left behind but still he paid for the privilege of being able to hear the phone calls, to have contact with anything besides Rapture.

He'd dealt directly with Fontaine once, to set up the terms of his 'contract' and cover payment arrangements but other than that he met with a proxy, one of his unfortunate underlings who did the dirty work. He paid with hard cash but cash didn't exchange hands until they delivered. They met in a low profile joint, the smugglers didn't like doing business out in the open but he refused to do business right on their premises, to err on the side of caution with those types. To satisfy both sides the smugglers had to meet in public but he had to assure that the rendezvous location changed between each transaction so that no trail or tail could be put following him. This time it was a low-key Fishbowl Diner in the Pauper's Drop that was packed with traffic of those coming off from the night's graveyard shift, just like him though notably they appeared a lot more tired. He'd barely sat down and ordered his first drink, a soda, when his proxy came in, ordered something hard at the bar. He drank the shot straight up bottoms down before shuffling over to Reox throwing a thick wad of envelopes on the table as he took a seat, "Come on, let's get this over with, we both know that neither of us wants to be here longer than we have to."

Wasn't THAT true so he didn't complain, he placed his bills on the table slow enough to allow the guy to count and make sure he wasn't being cheated. They never were, Reox upheld his bargains but frankly he couldn't blame them, if their situations were reversed he'd not trust someone to blindly adhere to the terms of a business contract without robbing him blind, shorting him, or both, "You got the safe lockbox?"

For Reox it was imperative and there was no way that he'd, even drunk, allow the proxy to run off with the bills LITERALLY in hand. The system was simple Fontaine owned the heavy-duty boxes and each box had two keys; Fontaine had the master key and the client, whoever they may be, had the replica. The box was opened at the time of the exchange, the money was locked in, and considering that it was made of industrial strength materials and hack-proof the box didn't open until it got back to Fontaine.

The man who had been glancing at the money with singular attention looked back at him, his expression almost seeming dour that Reox had remembered that. The heavy duty lock boxes held the money garnered from personal transaction to make sure it went directly from the client's hands to Fontaine's without giving a chance for the proxy to take their own 'cut' of it, "Of course, I'll handle it!"

Reox smiled at that, clearly the guy thought Reox would try to filch some of the cash back while he put it into the box , "Of course," the guy sullenly slammed the box on the table taking a drink of Reox's lukewarm soda while he unlocked the box, the guy promptly scooped up the bills and put them in the box, Reox made sure to pay particular attention to make sure the proxy's hand didn't linger on the bills too long, it didn't take much to pickpocket especially not for these underworld types, stealing was more second nature than anything. The box was then it was promptly locked, the proxy rose and gave him a customary 'pleasure doin' business with ye' without much conviction or sincerity and walked off. Reox placed a few bills on the table, leaving what was left of his lukewarm cola abandoned. He was ready to take a shower and lay down.

He went right home, locking the door securely behind him then throwing down his keys while starting up the water. While waiting for it to warm up a bit since it was ice cold he used his knife to open up the envelope, spilling it of its contents, a few cassettes thankfully not damaged for the flimsy, lack-luster packaging. He popped one in and cranked the volume up enough so he could hear it over the running water as he clambered into the shower. It was as he was pulling out, toweling his hair dry that he heard the first, last, and only part of the surface he missed, suddenly the endless tirade of messages became that much more interesting. He gave no thought for what would have drove Lila to contact him, from the first syllable of her voice he knew it was her and he listened intently, not allowing his shock to ruin the pleasant surprise of even this remote, one-sided contact.

A weary sigh stretched over the start of the message, a sigh that made the owner seem much too old, too aged, too exhausted, in that sigh she communicated a deep abiding unhappiness, "Hey, it-it's me, Lila, again…You, you haven't contacted me yet…I guess I can't blame you after everything," the audible sound as she was swallowing back tears, "I wish I had been smarter at every turn. Now at the end," Reox instantly wondered what she meant by THAT but kept his attention on the message's content, "I am left with all sorts of regrets and much to 'right'. I have no right to ask a favor of you but you have every right to know exactly what I am going to tell you. I have a child, a daughter, prettiest girl you've ever seen. My husband died a few years back, his death left me with nothing to lack for financially, for me OR her. Truth is I never denied her a Father but I denied you. It isn't from lack of trying, for several years I rationalized that I gave her the best provider I could for her future. The more I looked at the glittering realm I entered the more I realized I didn't want that for OUR daughter. I don't have much time left, I'm dying, I got leukemia and judging from the fact you won't answer me, you don't want anything to do with me. Frankly I don't blame you for that but I am looking for you now so that Lily can see her REAL Daddy."

The next message droned on as he collapsed back against wall, it felt the breath had been knocked out of him and regardless of how hard he tried to force his lungs to breath in and out, in and out but he just couldn't.

A child?

They'd conceived a child, on her wedding night to another man she conceived a love child with her one-time lover.

Oh hell…

His body felt wired, energetic, and he knew what it was – purpose, after so long of having nothing he now had a little girl. That was not the only thing he felt, he felt regret and grief anew, Lila was dying. His mind instantly denied it but he knew she'd not offer any lies or excuses to entice him into talking to her, there was desperation in that message, the desperation of a dying woman and she thought he wanted nothing to do with her, that he was avoiding her. He had done just that, avoided her but he'd still never hated her, he still loved her and the thought of losing Lila, of her dying was almost as painful as learning this late in life that he'd fathered a child.

The bastard Lila married was dead, that is what she said and he was inclined to believe her and Lila was dying, what on earth would happen to the daughter, his daughter? No, what would happen to THEIR daughter? It was clear that she'd been trying to contact him for a while, Reox instantly thought back to the previous raid knowing that he'd paid for the privilege of having mail and messages obtained but also knowing he'd not listened to them. For the past year and a half he'd paid for 'News' from the surface and he'd shelved it, never opened up the letters or listened to the messages until now and he'd almost missed out for that foolishness, for that apathy. Fueled by purpose he sat up, deciding the dig through the most recent mail and work his way backwards. An hour into his grim work he found a large white envelope with a professional looking seal, it was addressed to him from Watson & Wilkes, with that kind of name he knew it was undoubtedly a legal firm, likely a very rich legal firm. He unceremoniously ripped the envelope open, only taking a moment to see its 'post date' was one month previous from today's date.

Dear Mr.

It is my regrets to inform you that Mrs. Lila Haynes Ashrend passed away as of the early January 1958. You have our deepest condolences in your grief, it is always difficult to lose one's loved ones. Nevertheless we still have business to attend to, we have yet to settle the subject of Mrs. Ashrend's estate. You were stipulated in her last will and testament to be a beneficiary of will as well as designated to be the legal guardian for her sole issue – Ms. Lily Ashrend.

Attempts to inform you of this has been met with difficulty, we have attempted to plan a meeting time to your convenience by telephone, you currently have no line nor number thus we have also made physical attempts to plan a private meeting in person at your place of residence or in the office. We are willing to accommodate you.

Please send us word once you receive this missive that we may 'arrange' a private appointment to execute the estate. Failure to do so in a timely or efficient manner may result in your exemption from the Will.

Sincerely,

R. Watson & T. Wilkes

Ice cold realization settled itself in his nerves and gut, what time frame was considered 'timely' he didn't give a damn about the stipulations of the estate but he wanted his little girl, he not be left out of her life and if no guardian rose to claim her what would happen. One thing was DAMN certain he needed a surface run and he needed it NOW. No time to idle or waste, if he did he'd lose out on something big, something that would feel like losing Lila all over again. What kind of loser did he have to be to lose BOTH ladies in his life, mother and daughter, Lila AND Lily? God, he should have never burnt his bridges to such a degree, now there was NO way to get to the surface and that is what he needed.

"We'll accommodate you…," he muttered to himself as he paced, finally he gave into his urge and took a shot of vodka, it only made the urge to spring into action intensify. The damn question was if they'd come to the bottom of the ocean to 'do their business' with him accompanied by a questionable escort and the real possibility of death if discovered. Regardless he had to try and if that failed well then he'd really see about slipping out, bailing from Rapture - risks and consequences be damned.

Rejuvenated by this purpose and these 'fears' he donned his clothes and full gear in less than three minutes then headed for the Atlantic Express, traversing the high pressure railway from place to place until he got to Neptune's Bounty would be a pain in the ass, it would take him time to get around Rapture because he DIDN'T live in the lower class parts of town, this midnight jaunt would likely cost him whatever sleep he'd hoped to catch up on so he was going to make damn sure the night went his way. Having no physical energy left he was only propelled forward by force of will but he had a hell of a motivational drive now. He managed to get snatches of sleep, mere naps in the underwater railways and bathyspheres but never falling into a fast enough sleep that he missed getting off at his stops.

On the way there he'd been thinking on how he and his life would have to 'change'. By no means was he a 'family' man but he intended to be the Father that Lila had made him in bringing Lily into this world. There was also the fact of how he lived; with no one living with him and Maeve merely 'dropping by' from time to time he'd never given too much care into how his place looked. Now it was going to matter, he had to make it clean, sanitary, and safe. Not that it wasn't safe but clean and sanitary not so much, it was a damn bachelor pad and it reflected his loner ways. He'd have to request a few vacation days off to clear out the apartment and scrub it down. God knew he had the time; he never requested time off and was never sick, so he had plenty of vacation days and sick leave to burn. Thank god he lived in a decent part of town or he'd have to consider moving altogether. He would not see his kid raised in Pauper's Drop, Neptune's Bounty, or any other area that was part of Skum Row – all the interconnected lower class areas. He wasn't wealthy but he could afford the extra expenditure of security.

It was not the first time he thought bad thoughts with the good though, he was eager as hell but the kid might not be especially considering she'd likely been raised in a lap of luxury. Even the upper class of Rapture wasn't like what she was used to on the surface, how was he able to compete with that? He wouldn't, he could only give her his best, love her as best as she deserved and give her as much as he could, financially speaking. His thoughts turned back to a room in his apartment. There was a spare bedroom that was, of course, much smaller than the master bedroom where he slept. For a long time it had been used for storage, he could clean it out and give her that though it was notably…bare. Maybe he could fix that when he smiled to himself, no doubt she'd have fun decorating and designing her room. Maybe it was a project they could do together for fun and bonding.

Greatly reassured by that he finally stepped off the train and directly onto a pier, as if the sight of the well-worn wood wasn't enough to advertise where he was the stench definitely would – the stench of the sea and death. No matter where you were in Neptune's Bounty it smelled like a fish had been gutted and left out to die which wasn't likely far from the truth. Fontaine Fisheries were the primary source of 'food', income, and employment down here but frankly the smuggling operations were more important to him. Who cares if a spine was left in a 'boneless' fish shipment bound for the Adonis Luxury Resort but if his surface runs were jeopardized heads would fly. Everyone knew that smugglers were hiding out of Neptune's Bounty but no one came to the direct conclusion that those cutting the guts out of fish were the smugglers gutting Ryan's underwater economy with their activities. If he'd have been good he'd have sold things out to Ryan a long time ago but then he'd also have NEVER found out about Lily and would have no way of getting her to and from the surface. For once it felt good to make a decision he wasn't made to regret.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Reox smiled at that, at the familiar voice of his downtrodden proxy who looked none too happy to see him here, it looked like he'd been roused straight out of bed to intercept him, he probably had.

"You know we aren't supposed to bring business home, draws attention and the like."

"Ah but then you'd miss out, miss out on a very important…contract."

"What kind of contract?" His proxy licked his lips nervously but there was a bit of eagerness to it, if there was a lucrative contract to be had then theoretically there was a good cut for the proxy. Typical, no smuggler could resist the lure of money especially the kind Reox dealt with - cold hard cash.

"Ah, ah, ah, I need commitment first."

No promise of money was enough for his proxy to turn stupid and promise Fontaine's resources in something with no contract laid out for consideration, "You know the rules, we can't and I won't!"

"Got a secure locale?"

"Nothing you are going to like, means stepping into the spider's web so to speak," wasn't THAT the truth and his proxy was right, he didn't like it but there was a lot he'd do for his little girl.

"I don't care, take me somewhere secure so we can hammer this out."

"If I led you directly to our hideout, client or not, they'd still gut me and decorate Fontaine's office with my entrails. Fisheries are the best you'll get."

"That works for me," anything worked for him, he wasn't exactly drowning in alternatives. Frankly he wasn't all that 'disappointed'. Even going to the fisheries made him wish he was packing more heat. Not that he'd be allowed to carry it, he was sure he might be 'patted down' especially if he had to meet with Fontaine face-to-face. God he hoped it didn't come to that though it probably would.

The proxy led him there and into a bare room, instantly he opened up a pack of smokes and lit one up, "Want one?"

His courtesy threw Reox off guard, normally when he was stressed he was always up for a good smoke but frankly he wanted to get this shit done, taken care of, so he declined, "No thanks," no need to add he had no clue where the guy's stock came from. The guy opened his pack, lit one up, took a nice long drag and then finally talked, "Okay, what you want now? Normally you don't ask for shipments more than once a month and you've worked on our time tables."

"I need a run done now."

"That is not possible," the proxy's tone was flat, final, matter-of-fact, too bad Reox didn't have it in his mind to listen.

"You better reverse that answer else we are going to have problems, this CAN'T wait, that is the reason I am stalking you to your doorstep at this ungodly hour of night. You don't want me knocking down Fontaine's office door now do you?"

The proxy again got nervous and predictably fell in line, "What do you want done?"

"I'm a lucky man, a Father, I have a daughter orphaned topside. I want you to bring her down."

"You are crazy, you want us to bring down a fleshie!"

Fleshie – slang for human and also the ULTIMATE taboo. In Rapture there was one absolute law – nothing that could expose Rapture to parasites was allowed. It meant that contact with the surface was zilch. Rapture was cut off, meant to be autonomous except it would have been if not for Fontaine's smuggling which mean that he was Reox's only chance but Reox's contract was a HUGE liability, if this contract went afoul then it could jeopardize all smuggling operations, topple Fontaine's illegal economy. Humans from the surface were an unpredictable risk factor, one that the smugglers couldn't control very well, "How fucking old?"

"Five."

"No fucking way! Keep track of a five year old worse if she runs off and gets us all an early morning appointment with the hangman's noose. No damn way in hell I'm taking this to Fontaine."

In that moment he appreciated the fact his proxy was a goddamn idiot, he'd NOT removed what he was packin' but that said he was also stupid to tell Reox an outright no. It was something he learned too late, Reox drew his pistol from a holster on his belt and brought it to rest beneath the proxy's jaw, making sure it was pressing against his jawline hard enough to bruise. The guy knew the dangers of its placement. Reox could shoot him, he'd not need to aim. The gun would go off and the bullet would be self-guided going directly upward into his brain.

"You really think Fontaine will let you get away with this?"

"I don't think Fontaine will give a fuck what the hell I'd do to you so you'd best play nice and listen up because I have you by the fucking balls. We're going to go to his office and outline this contract or I'll bring Ryan down on all your heads."

"That won't be necessary, what the hell is going on here?"

Thankfully Reox had been smart enough from the get-go to put a solid wall at his back but it was a bad thing he'd been so 'stirred up' that he missed the fact Fontaine had crashed their argument without him being any the wiser, "A disagreement. I was negotiating a contract and he tells me it can't be done."

"Anything can be done for the proper motivation," that was his smooth way of saying for a price. Fortunately Reox was willing and able to pay up a fortune.

A typical run, just for his mail and messages cost $150 per run, it was expensive but considering what he was paid the loss of income was nothing. He had to offer enough to entice Fontaine and keep him strung up until he delivered. By now he was craving a smoke but he didn't want to do it in front of Fontaine, last thing he needed was for him to figure out that the bastard made him nervous, "I have a daughter, her mother is dead and she's an orphan, I'm all she's got, I need an escort and transport for the kid and the lawyer. I'm willing to pay more than double the usual amount, $400 upfront if you agree to take the contract," and now to ensure Fontaine wouldn't drop it he'd offer more, "I'll pay $600 more once the contract is completed. The entire contract will be valued at $1000. Satisfied?"

"More than, we'll get it done, I am guessing since you are so stirred up that you have a few stipulations."

"The contract's got a time limit, I'm paying well because I can't wait, I need you guys to set out right away. Tonight if you can, tomorrow if you can't."

"Tomorrow but you've got a commitment, we'll prepare tonight, get going tomorrow," of course, after all no damn way Fontaine would turn down that kind of profit, risks be damned.