September 7th, 1958
Audio Transcript – 'Fontaine'
[There are times when you don't need Doors or Tears to see the future. Such is the case with Frank Fontaine. It's likely that if and when someone finds these audio diaries, that man will be sitting comfortably at the pinnacle of Rapture's social hierarchy. Andrew Ryan may have founded Rapture, but in light of a lack of progeny, I believe Fontaine has his eye on the inheritance. He is charismatic, intelligent… and the most ruthless man I've ever met. I shudder to think what he would do to me if… regardless, while his patronage comes with considerable risk, it is not without its benefits. Fontaine's name opens many doors in Rapture, doors even I cannot see. I just fear what I may find behind them.]
"Goddammit! The supplies need to be shipped to laboratory, not to damn library!"
Elizabeth pretended to concentrate on the books. But with the racket Yi Suchong was making, even if Elizabeth wasn't trying to eavesdrop, ignoring him would have been exceptionally difficult.
"Look, Dr. Suchong," Suchong's assistant –– the man's name was Marcel Raghnall –– glanced around the Mendel Memorial Library to make sure they weren't overheard; Elizabeth ducked behind the bookshelf, "we're playing a dangerous game, see? I don't know how I feel about your parts coming to Point Prometheus at all. This here is Fontaine's patch… bastard will have our guts for garters if he knew you were contracting out to Andrew Ryan––"
"Suchong well aware of Fontaine," snapped Dr. Suchong. "Fontaine scary son of a bitch, but Ryan and Gilbert Alexander cheap sons of bitches. Who are they hiring for such errands? Sinclair? Suchong cannot be expected to work under these conditions."
"I don't reckon Ryan or Fontaine banked on you working for the two of 'em at the same time, guv, each without the other knowing."
"No." Suchong seemed to calm down. "No. Both men desperate. They need Suchong. With the little brats going missing, Fontaine need fresh supplies of ADAM and Ryan need jump on Fontaine. I play cards right, this could be very good for Suchong."
"What about Tenenbaum? She's beginning to suspect something. You don't need rivet guns and helmets to map out nucleotide sequences and all. What if that Yid decides to tell Fontaine about the diving suits, the gene splicing, the grafting… or if any dick, tom, or harry starts asking questions about that lad Johnny Topside. We got a lot of loose ends, Dr. Suchong. Tenenbaum is the least of 'em."
Suchong's expression soured. "Tenenbaum. Quite a little monster Fontaine's dug up. Disgusting woman. Suchong would prefer she stay scarce. Fortunately, she seems content to spend her time with her dirty little brats in the genetics laboratory. Suchong has wider prospects. Ryan may be cheap son of a bitch, but he knows market. He can sell the Little Sisters as commodity, as luxury, while Fontaine simply sticks ADAM in dirty needles."
Marcel nodded. "There's hypos littering the streets of Rapture. There's just something about jabs that rubs people the wrong way. And if the Little Sisters keep going missing––"
"Then Suchong must find alternative method of producing ADAM..."
"They ain't thin on the ground yet, Dr. Suchong. The Little Sisters are vanishing, but there's still plenty of tykes to go around, what with the orphanage and all. Apollo Square is just about crawling with abandoned young-uns."
Suchong shook his head. "Soon, Ryan will move against Fontaine. Suchong suspect Fontaine's days are numbered. There are plenty of little girls, but there are plenty of dead people in Rapture, too."
"I don't follow."
Elizabeth brought her ear close to the divider, straining to hear them as Suchong lowered his voice:
"ADAM remains in body of splicer after death. Here is Suchong's problem, Mr. Raghnall: Little Ones are repulsed by corpses. Must find a way to make gathering more… attractive, maybe if we program them to see bodies as something more appealing: kitty cats, chocolate bars, some other stupid thing these children enjoy. In any case, Suchong pursuing own line of research with Dr. Alexander. If Little Sisters become gatherers, they will need protection from splicers. They will need… companions."
Elizabeth pushed aside a dusty textbook and peeked through the gap in the shelves. Yi Suchong was a small, rigid Korean man with an unfriendly face and cold eyes. He looked perpetually disdainful behind his wire-rim glasses. Elizabeth knew his type: egocentric, self-serving. An opportunist. He took to Rapture's objectivist society like Frank Fontaine took to grifts. Elizabeth didn't care for him at all.
"I don't disagree with you, Dr. Suchong, not at all," said Raghnall. "But Ryan's not gone and put Fontaine on ice quite yet. If Mr. Fontaine asks about those diverted funds, or if he learns about your little side project with Gilbert Alexander, there's going to be trouble."
"You need not worry, Mr. Raghnall. Suchong continue supply of ADAM to Fontaine Futuristics, and Fontaine say nothing. Suchong continue Protector research with Gilbert Alexander, Ryan say nothing. But if Ryan's errand boys continue sending Protector materials to goddamn library, then we have problem. And Ryan insists we cut cost by taking clinical subjects from Sinclair's prison, physically and mentally broken by plasmid use, and turn them into line of Protectors. Ryan can write off financials, but now we must deal with half-mad, metal-suited spliced lunatics from Persephone running around, attacking anything that comes in from outside of lab! I must speak to Dr. Alexander…"
Suchong stalked out of the library, muttering something into a personal audio diary. Marcel Raghnall pretended to collect several books from the circulation desk. He didn't look up when he called out: "You get all that?"
Elizabeth emerged from behind the bookshelf. "Yes. Discretion doesn't seem to rank very highly in Dr. Suchong's list of concerns. His egocentricity really is astonishing."
"Look, I ain't searching for fuss." Marcel shuffled from foot to foot. He avoided eye contact with Elizabeth. "But when this mess comes to a boil I don't want to find myself looking down the dangerous end of Frank Fontaine's pistol, right?"
She handed Mr. Raghnall a roll of Ryan dollars. The young man pocketed the money. "Mr. Fontaine values loyalty," Elizabeth promised. "He simply wants to know who took Sally, and if that person intends to take any more Little Sisters."
"It's not the good Doctor, Miss Elizabeth, rest assured of that; Suchong's got too much staked in this plasmid business. Besides, he's had his own fair share of difficulties working with that toff Alexander."
"What sort of difficulties?"
"Can't get the little brats to imprint, can he? You know, like baby ducks imprinting on their mums."
Elizabeth smiled thinly. "I know what imprinting means."
"Dr. Alexander's been testing pheromones and the like down at the Persephone detention center. That fat bastard Sinclair provides Suchong and Alexander with human test subjects, usually whatever seditious slimeball so much as looked at Ryan sideways in the last week. They're turning 'em into monsters down there. And it's all on Ryan's dime; Fontaine doesn't know a damn thing."
"I wouldn't count on that, Mr. Raghnall. Frank Fontaine sees a lot."
Marcel paled. "Uh, right. But, but… the work's not going nowhere, right? The bleeding brutes won't pair with their brats. Suchong's desperate to find some way to get the two of 'em to bond, so that when Ryan cops off Fontaine, which we all reckon'll happen sooner rather than later, Suchong'll have some bargaining power over the Little Sister gatherers. Can't make a profit if you can't protect the little tykes, what with them splicers screaming all over the place."
Elizabeth conceded the point.
Yi Suchong was a narcissistic son of a bitch. Despite being a capable scientist and a smart businessman, he was universally despised by his coworkers. It hadn't taken too much of Frank Fontaine's money to get Marcel Raghnall to talk. And based on the Genetic Research Department payroll, Suchong was officially under contract, but he had never completely discontinued business relations with Ryan Industries. According to Raghnall, several months ago, Andrew Ryan had made contact with Suchong through Augustus Sinclair, the owner of the Sinclair Solutions research firm, and something of a cloak-and-dagger man –– polishing the stains on Ryan's gleaming utopia.
One of Sinclair's associates, Dr. Gilbert Alexander, knew the Little Sisters were coveted commodities, and that they would need protection in the foreseeable task of gathering ADAM from Rapture's dead. Suchong had opened a slush fund, funneling resources from Fontaine to fund private gene splicing projects with Alexander. Behind Fontaine's back, they were working on mental conditioning programs that forced Protectors to guard the Little Sisters.
"Suchong would sell his own mother for project funds." Elizabeth noted, "But you're right: kidnapping Little Sisters doesn't conform to his business interests."
"Are…" Marcel swallowed, "are you going to tell Fontaine, about Suchong's work with Dr. Alexander? I didn't have anything to do with it, Miss Elizabeth, honest…"
Elizabeth felt a stab of pity for Marcel Raghnall. She had been working undercover in the Mendel Memorial Library for several weeks, and everyone lived in constant fear of Frank Fontaine. She found it hard to believe that anyone in Fontaine's employ would even entertain the notion of a double-cross. Suchong none withstanding, fear of bloody retribution at the hands of Fontaine's splicers kept most people cowed.
"No, Mr. Raghnall," she said quietly, "my business isn't with Suchong or his private projects. I just want to find these missing girls."
"You look into Tenenbaum yet?" Marcel suggested. "I mean, she's a clever clogs and a bloody good worker, but she's always been a queer sort…"
"Where would I find Brigid Tenenbaum?"
"That's the question, innit? She's got posh digs up in Mercury Suites, but she makes herself scarce nowadays."
Elizabeth nodded. "Do you think a man named Zachary Comstock could be responsible for Fontaine's missing Little Sisters?"
Raghnall scrunched his face. "Never heard of him, love. Unless he's one of Sinclair's lot down in the detention center––"
"Never mind." She gave Raghnall another roll of Ryan dollars. "Thank you for your help. Frank Fontaine values your loyalty."
"Suchong won't hear a dickie bird from me."
Elizabeth left the Mendel Memorial Library. In the main hall, just outside the Rapture Metro, she checked a map of the city. Mercury Suites was one of the residential housing areas in Olympus Heights, just short of Apollo Square.
… I seen she had a blanket half-knitted by her bed. It was nice, you know, black and red, real pretty… didn't seem right to leave it lying there, lying there all by itself…
Elizabeth shivered. She looked down at her own attire: black and red. In the shadowy foyer of Point Prometheus, her crimson necktie looked like a bloodstain under her collar. Perhaps a harbinger of things to come. Perhaps an echo. Elizabeth felt as though she was walking on the face of a mirror, caught between the reflections of all things. Pain and violence facing each other and recurring eternally in the speculum of infinity.
