Chapter 36
Minerva's Den - Office of Dr Lydia Wells
Dr Lydia Well's had tried desperately to slow down on the ADAM jabs she'd been giving herself. She'd never been one for full immersion in the drug, she'd seen too many people consumed by it even in its early days, and her devotion to her job as a Senior Programmer for Reed Wahl and Charles Milton Porter had always been stronger than her yearning for ADAM.
Yet, her intake of the glowing Red substance had increased over the last few days. The stress had been almost overwhelming, trying to maintain and programme 'The Thinker' almost single handed, with only a few of her subordinates left with more than half their marbles able to provide some level of assistance. That was her excuse at least. But as Lydia Wells sat in her chair and gazed out her viewport into the sea beyond, it was not her work that pulsed through her mind. She found herself plagued with the images from the security cameras in Dionysus Park, of Grace Holloway's tired old face looking back at her as she'd let in the floodwaters safely from her terminal there in the Operations wing of Minerva's Den. It was guilt, that the Doctor was now suffering from. It was an alien emotion to her - her life's work had always kept her looking forward, not back, and by its very nature had hidden her away in dark rooms away from any opportunities to make mistakes that would affect anyone but herself.
She gasped in relief as the last of the ADAM slipped through her veins, and she could finally yank the syringe from her arm. As she closed her eyes and let the liquid stimulate her senses and tingle in her bloodstream, Lydia felt the sudden return of a recurring itching on her forehead. She was developing a rash there - and she couldn't help but lift a hand to violently scratch at it in hope the itching would subside. As she tore at the rash with her fingers, she could feel her skin was toughening, almost going lumpy and leathery.
"Doctor Lydia Wells - notification. Unauthorized access to Minerva's Den. Entry - Rapture Central Computing - Operations" The Thinker called out from the small speaker positioned on her desk beside the computer input panels.
She sort of heard the computers warning, but she did not comprehend it entirely. She let out a further sigh as a thick fog seemed to cloud her mind, and sparks of electrobolt began to dance involuntarily from her fingers as the rush of ADAM caused her limbs to convulse.
The Thinker repeated its monotone alert message a second time. Lydia Wells giggled, and began to hum a tune. "Oh no... Edward won't be happy about that..." she sang clumsily. Almost in an instant, her emotions flipped over, and a crash of depression and mania swept through her, and again she was confronted with the images of Grace Holloway racing to escape the flood waters. From seemingly every angle, she could suddenly hear shrieks and screams, calls for help from the many that had died in the recent floods across the city, all a result of her obedience to the instructions of Edward Carson.
Minerva's Den - Rapture Central Computing
Jack stood over a broken desk, sifting through an enormous pile of computer print outs, that made as much sense to him as one of Sander Cohen's paintings. If there was proof of Edwards alleged atrocities here in the Den, Jack was becoming more and more convinced he was not the person to send to find it. It could have been there staring him in the face on that very desk, and he wouldn't know it. The reams of paper were filled with numbers and equations, barely ever containing so much as a single intelligible sentence.
Throwing the last handful back down onto the desk, he turned to his two girls that were guarding the doorway. Neither had chosen to remove their helmets, as carrying them would slow them down in the event they had to defend against a splicer attack. But Jack could already notice the lack of confidence in the way they both stood - they seemed nervous, their legs slightly bent and their backs arched. It was still a bugger to try and get them to mutter much more than a 'yes' or 'no' to his questions, and neither would still offer full eye contact.
"Come on my dears, let's move on. There's nothing here that makes any sense to me..." He held out each arm as he approached them to offer a reassuring pat on the shoulder.
"What have I done? Oh sweet Christ, what have I done?" The howling scream came from up a flight of stairs across the hallway, and made all three jump out of their wits. "Forgive me, forgive me for my wickedness! For the murder I have committed!"
Jack, pursued closely by Ellie and Beth, took off down the hall in search of the person making the noise. They were not the only ones it attracted however, as a mob of men and women in technicians coats seemed to pour into the same corridor from further doorways, hatches and holes broken through the walls and ceiling. Whilst some were blindly being drawn to the distinct possibility of finding someone with ADAM on their person, many others stopped in their tracks to observe the intruder and the two Big Sisters who flanked him. The sight of the latter was enough to cause them to hesitate, but only for a moment before they instead began to draw all manner of weaponry from their cardigans and corduroy trousers. Jack ran at first, not used to the fact that upon arrival he had injected the smallest amount of EVE back into his system for just such a confrontation. As Ellie and Beth fought to block him from the bullets and projectiles, Jack span around, and with both hands unleashed the strongest blast of Incinerate he could muster after such a lengthy abstinence.
The wave of fire was so ferocious that even the two Big Sisters leapt from its path, before it struck the aggressive gang of technicians. They began to scream and scramble away towards water, crying out "Have Mercy! Put it out! Put it out! I'm on fire!" Their wailing followed them from view, through the burning corridor until each of them fell silent, and only the crackling of the scorched floorboards remained.
Jack, still holding his hands out in front of him, was frozen in horror at what he had just done. He could feel the sweat he'd broken over the immense heat, turning cold and pouring down his neck as his heart beat hard in his chest. Pulling his arms back quickly, he clasped his hands together and pulled them to his chest, as if terrified he may unwillingly release a second inferno. "My god... I'm sorry!" He whispered. He looked back at the two sisters watching him, their heads tilted and their postures leant back, cautiously. "I'm sorry!" He cried to them both, horrified that they had seen him loose his cool and kill so easily. Almost as easily as he had done all those years ago... in this fucking, godforsaken city.