No tengo nada.
Regius
The crisp sound of pressurized air escaping the bathysphere signaled the arrival of royalty. Jack's head poked out the slightest bit before the rest of him came into view. The sling full of weapons jostled against the beige sweater that still smelt of the sea. His boots made a light noise that echoed off the walls. Jack crept along with his ears straining for every drop of water, every creak of metal and possible enemies' footfall. He had mostly cleaned out a sizable chunk of Arcadia, but there was really no telling who was and was not out there. Jack silently slid out of the bathysphere station. His swivelling eyes beheld a fairly vast expanse of green interspersed by bodies. Everything seemed to be in the clear. Still, Jack wouldn't be hanging around long enough to see that state of affairs change.
It was fairly silly, honestly. Tenenbaum already had a secure home for the girls away from the splicers. What had compelled him to come here? Maybe it was the lack of propaganda spilling over the airwaves. Perhaps it was the relative lack of destruction ,here where everything was organic and green. He set out in a steady jog for Julie Langford's place. Maybe he would find what was calling out for his attention.
The spongy earth gave way to the metal of the tunnel sooner than Jack would have liked but he was not thinking about that. The hole that splicers had cut in the doorway of Julie's Laboratory grew nearer as Jack kicked more corpses aside. Outside the doorway he hesitated. No sounds presented themselves. Nothing moved. The scent of sulfur hung heavily in the air. The shotgun barrel rasped agaisnt the grenade launcher. A low ringing grew louder in his ears.
"Mongrel!" Jack turned to see a frost covered splicer raising an attack. The sound of thunder reigned supreme and she was looted before being laid to the side of the tunnel. Rapture was rotting with enough bodies already, he didn't need anymore getting in his way. Jack tromped on inside. Ryan's offense on the labs lay on the ground smelling strongly of rot and chemicals. Jack groaned with his new Big Daddy voice like a mournful whale. Rapture was already a disaster, the places that were clean couldn't afford to start a downward spiral as well. Jack worked, taking corpses and dumping them outside the door. As he did so he saw more and more detail to the mutations of prolonged splicing. Womens' skin had grown through their pretty dresses. Mens' noses had receded into their faces. One man had what appeard to be three extra hands growing out of his lower leg. Hands covered in slimy blood trembled under the forces of nasuea before he ended his task and followed the tunnel up to Julie's chamber.
Julie Langford lay stiff on the floor. He hadn't had much time to pay her corpse any attention. There were no markings on her, no mutations, no scratches or pus bleeding wounds. She had died of poisoning, not splicing. She had died by the hands of a man, now dead himself. She died healthy. Her weight laying in his arms, told him so. Her golden brown curls bounced in his periphrial vision as he bounded down the steps and out into the rolling hills. Distantly an alarm rang coupled with screams before trailing off. Disregarding the noise he continued his one man funeral procession.
The small freshwater stream sat uninterrupted near the doors. Jack half wished he could peel off his clothes and take a dip in it . He knew enough to know that doing so would be asking to get caught unaware so he hurried on past Julie Langofrd in her new grave towards the bathysphere to Hephestus Core. He had one more stop to make today.
The last time Jack had been here he had to pry the doors open and had been greeted by shaking and rumbling in the darkness. Now the doors open before him and the halls light up where ever he walked. Nothing came near him, there was nothing here. Nothing at all but him and a man. Andrew Ryan had been, in turns, a visionary, a leader, a figurehead, a murderer and a madman. He had also been his genetic father in a world where genes meant so much. A distant part suppossed he should have felt something towards this man, something besides the cold indifference he had. Jack reached down and yanked the twisted metal golfclub out of his head with a sickening squelch. It clanged on the floor as he reached out towards the shell of a man on the ground.
Andrew Ryan's hand rasped on the floor as Jack dragged him to the bed in the next room over. A trail of blood lengthed from Andrew's head back to that damning golfclub. The shiny brass buttons on his coat glinted as he was heaved onto the soft coverlet. Andrew's arms were crossed with an honor he may have deserved in some other time and place and the brown bedding was wrapped around his body. Jack sat on the edge of the bed. His head low, he felt the blood on his hands, on the backs and palms and between the fingers.
Jack gently rose and left the room. He spared a glance back before the door closed. The dark leather boots clunked against the polished wood. He strode over to the golf club on the floor. It couldn't have been more than half a pound, a small scrap of metal. Yet it felt heavy in his hand. He set it in the sleeve of clubs and turned to leave. The air lock turned automatically as he came near. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. For one more night, Andrew Ryan would own the city. It was his pride and joy, let him have it one last day.
Jack turned the heavy wheel on the otherside until the door opened. He exited and headed for the nearest bathysphere to Olympus Heights. He would be safe with Tenenbaum for the time being. He would have a lot of work to do, but for now he needed rest.
