Chapter Four
Paupers Drop
Years spent in the companionship of perpetual dripping had made Edward oblivious to it these days, but today, it seemed louder than ever before. He sat atop the Fishbowl Diner, his legs dangling over the side, gazing deep in thought through the large oval windows overhead. He could just make out the rooftop of Siren Alley from there, and his mind was still back in those drowned corridors.
"It's true I'm tellin' ya! Lamb was abducted, stolen from us by somebody topside! It had to be the Brit's wanting her back for somethin'..." A young, limping man passed by on the ground, chatting excitedly to a spliced young woman that swaggered drunkenly beside him. "Abducted? Yeah right... nobody knows where the city is idiot! She abandoned the family - left us all down here to rot!" The young woman croaked loudly.
"She never would! We were the chosen ones, worthy!" He argued back, waving his arms above his head dramatically. They continued to argue until they rounded the corner towards Town Square and continued on until out of sight.
So it was really true, Edward thought, for whatever reason, Sofia Lamb really was gone. It burned him that most probably she had escaped to the surface alive, but that was by no means certain - nobody could possibly know who, if anyone, had been in Sinclair's escape pod when Persephone dropped into the abyss. Dr Lamb could well have been crushed, drowned and dragged down to hell. He liked that image a great deal... But either way, the fact of the matter was that the Rapture Family had just had it's manipulative, sadistic head cut off. The spliced, delusional hoards would now be roaming rampant again, betrayed, abandoned and wild with anger.
If it had simply been a handful of splicers left scattered around the city, then Edward would have thought more of a personal escape plan to the surface before the city flooded completely, but he knew enough sane people still that whilst perhaps on the peculiar or eccentric side, didn't deserve to be left to die. But moreover, it was Rapture herself Edward loved deeply, the stunning city that for a time had made his dreams come true. It was to Rapture and the survival of the Rapture dream, that his loyalties were still bound.
"You look lost today boy..." The soft, deep-south voice came gently from behind, and a warm hand came down on Edwards shoulder. Grace Holloway eased her old body down next to him, and she led her cane down. She swung her short legs and swollen feet over the edge and gently began to rock them side to side like a child on a rope swing.
"I've seen a lot lately Grace, a lot to take in." He replied, still looking towards the sea beyond the windows. "I'm sure you've already heard, but I'm sorry all the same - Dr Lamb has cut loose and bolted. Up on the surface now they are saying..."
Grace let her plump face slowly drop and she gazed down at a burning oil drum full of paper. "Oh yes, I heard she's gone, and part of me will mourn for her departure... but at the same time, I'm not sure that I've not had a fortunate escape. That woman blinded me, and filled me with a burnin' hatred that didn't need to be there... she used me." there was a sorrow in her confession. "But if you think about it, whether Lamb stays or goes, it really doesn't make a whole deal of difference anymore. We're all still here, doing what we can to get by.
"But for how much longer..." Edward added. "Siren Alley is gone..." He started. Grace blinked in surprise, "I hadn't heard about that..."
"Yes Siren Alley... the Futuristics building, Persephone... I even heard Fort Frolic, Neptune's bounty and the Medical Pavilion are waist deep these days. The city - she's going under." He sighed, turning to look Grace straight in the eye.
"Well what do you expect me to do about it son? Get mopping Fleet Hall?" Edwards stern but playful glare in return told her there was more to his statement that a mere observation.
"Well Edward, seriously what can be done? Nobodies fixin' nothin' anymore. It's only by the grace of God anything is left standing at all... we all know we are livin' on borrowed time. it's just a waitin' game now..." She trailed off, looking up at the looming ocean held back behind the window panes, waiting silently to rage in and consume them all.
Edward placed a comforting hand onto hers. They hadn't always been friendly - back when Grace had been an avid disciple of Dr Lamb and close friend of Lady Amelia, she had despised Edward and Sheridan, and until only a few weeks ago, had blamed them for Amelia's death in Dionysus Park. However, since her faith in the good doctor had been shaken and Lamb's integrity dropped into dispute, she'd been full of questions and second guessing her entire outlook on the city around her. It had been Grace that found Edward, driven from the ruins of his home in Mercury Suites and squatting in the back room of 'The Artists Struggle'. She'd wanted just to talk, and had allowed him to take shelter under her supervision at the Sinclair Deluxe. Since then, they'd not been close, but they'd been talking quite a lot.
"What if it doesn't have to be. What if there's life in the old girl yet?" His eyes rolled up towards the ceiling, gesturing towards the city.
"I assume you're talking about Rapture - because this old girl's barely standing up straight!" Grace cackled, pointing a thumb at herself. "Well... under the right circumstances I think anything can be fixed, but we haven't got a lot going for us down here - anyone capable of working is batshit crazy, buzzed up to the eyeballs on ADAM. No face it Edward, be made this bed - and now we've got to lie in it." She slapped his shoulder gently with conviction, and rose back up onto her feet.
She began to walk away towards one of the rickety bridges built across to another rooftop, before turning back. "Don't you go bringing any more tin daddy's around here though - even to fix a crapper, d'ya hear me? I'm still not too keen on 'em! I may have been harsh on that Delta Daddy, but no amount of exoneration will ever hide that damn smell!"
