Chapter 38
Fort Frolic
Edward tugged on his brand new jacket, ensuring it sat properly on his shoulders. Since trying to impress Jack Ryan, he'd been more than a little conscious of the deformities ADAM had inflicted him with, and he was keen that his new Jacket would do something to hide the slight sagging of his spine. He kept reminding himself that Jack Ryan wasn't Andrew Ryan, and therefore didn't warrant the same hero worship the great man used to, but Edward couldn't deny either that despite the potential hazards and disappointments Jack Ryan posed, he was quite taken with him. He hoped that his fresh suit and and keen smile may help them to work closer, and then they may be able to avoid some of the confrontations Edward foresaw on the horizon.
Since Dionysus Park had been permanently taken off the grid, the increase in available power had permitted Edward to have the pumps repaired and restored to full power in Fort Frolic. Despite its chequered past and Edward's own grim memories of the district's former owner - the psychotic Sander Cohen, Fort Frolic was an iconic part of the city, and one of great importance in Edwards plans. It had been one of the very first public spaces to open, and had hosted the true creme de la creme of Rapture Society.
None of the neon lights were currently lit, many of which were broken beyond repair and would need replacing, but still having brought the water level down and dried the place out was a start. Edward gleamed with pride as he looked up and around at the vast atrium. With Hephaestus now ticking over at a stable fifteen percent capacity, and Mercury Suite's renovations speeding towards completion within the week, Jack would turn his attention, and all the splicer workers he could spare, to re-building Fort Frolic, with Poseidon Plaza close behind it.
He turned to look at his tailing posse of less spliced Rapture Citizens, whom Edward planned on forming into the new Rapture Council. The group had swollen considerably in just a few short days. Those that had seen fit to avoid the ADAM and whole themselves up best they could in relative safety had now been able to come out and enjoy a position of relative comfort and power in the new order that was forming, as long as they had some level of expertise or skills to offer of course. Andrew Ryan wouldn't have had it any other way.
"My friends, this is to be our next renovation project!" Edward gleamed and threw his arms out in excitement, picturing himself already on the reconstructed Fleet Hall Stage. It was to his outrage therefore, when an expression of pessimism raged through the group of people like a plague. As Edward lowered his arms and let his smile dull, Herbert Finch, a balding, fat man who was the former owner of Twilight Fields Funeral Home, hesitantly stepped forward.
"I'm sorry Edward, we're all behind you on bringing Rapture back, you know that." He began.
"But." Edward snapped slightly, humiliated by the groups taking the wind out of his sails.
"But don't you think a music hall should be way further down the list of priorities? The workforce we're having to make do with is lackluster at best, rife with insubordination and insanity. To stretch such an unreliable workforce to encompass a massive renovation such as this would almost bring a halt to the far more pressing issues!" Finch emphasized, looking back to the others in the group for their supportive nods of agreement.
"We have Mercury Suites to live in comfortably, we have Hephaestus to power it..." Edward fought to reel off as many of the recent accomplishments as possible.
"Yes Edward, but that just sorts us out. We have a mass of thousands crammed down in Paupers Drop all begging to be fed, and all off the efforts of two fishing submersibles out of Neptunes Bounty that are only just holding together. We need men to work on restoring further fishing vessels before we have an accident down there. We need men working on further living quarters, we need men working to restore further power from the Geothermal Core..." He continued.
Edward clenched his jaw and held his tongue. He was furious, being lectured on what had to be done by people that had hidden away in bolt holes and shat in buckets whilst he had been actually out doing something to save the city from destruction! What infuriated him more, was that he knew they were right. He could almost feel Sheridans hand on his shoulder, whispering in that soothing tone 'I'm sorry my love, but you know they are right'. He knew that was what Sheridan would have said.
"I've already done more for those people down in Paupers Drop than anyone else, more than Lamb or Fontaine ever did! I saved them! Now its time they start working to help themselves. They have air, light and warmth - to an excess that borders on charity on my part! Now if they wish to live as we do now in Mercury Suites, let them pick up the tools and work for it. If they want fish, then they can find a way to compensate a fisherman for his efforts. If they need to rebuild the submersibles, they can find a way to compensate a mechanic for the sweat he puts into it. I wanted to bring Hephaestus back to life, so I paid those sorry fuckers in ADAM to get it beating again. That is Rapture, there is no place for Altruism here!"
Edward stopped, and turned away. He'd justified himself, and reiterated the principles upon which Rapture was built, and would be re-built. Yet he knew, in order to keep the loyalty of these people, that he would have to concede on this point.
"I will delay the renovation of Fort Frolic, until Hephaestus is up to thirty percent of capacity, we have both a viable fishing fleet, and restoration of at least one agricultural district. But I will not deny us the benefits of a little comfort and entertainment when we have worked so hard to earn it! And Fort Frolic will be open to anyone from Paupers Drop that has earnt the money to pay for a ticket! As Andrew Ryan would have had it."
"Just don't expect a full house anytime soon Edward. Tickets to a show may be on your list of priorities, but it won't be for the rest of the city. Be careful, the great chain pulled away from Andrew Ryan. It can pull away from you just as easily." Mumbled an older woman at the back, Ms Lily Van Zant. Edward glared back with a seething rage at the disrespect and insubordination of that remark.
After a long, awkward silence, Edward waved them away. "Well go on then, get out then before I have it all shut back down." He snapped as he began to herd them towards the exit. Some desperately tried to appease him and calm him from his upset, "Don't undo the work you've done in draining it Edward, I'm sure we'll be back to work on it soon!" one man cheered, "Chin up old boy - we'll have Fleet Hall jumping to a live band before you can blink, just got to iron out the kinks elsewhere first!" Another added whilst patting Edward on the back.
He didn't respond, but silently waited until they had all taken the Bathysphere from the Metro station back to Olympus Heights. Once he was alone, he threw a powerful kick at a trash can that sent it tumbling through the station with a thunderous crash. He'd been made to look a fool, and the embarrassment was gut-wrenching.
He already had Grace Holloway and most likely Jack Ryan casting doubts upon his integrity, and now his own city council were calling him out on poor decisions and questioning his motives. How he desperately wished Sheridan was still alive, there with him. He would have commanded nothing but respect and blind obedience, just as any great man could. Just as Jack Ryan seemed to already be gaining support and popularity without so much as lifting a finger to save the city, after abandoning it years ago!
Edward stood alone in the metro station, and looked up out of the overhead canopy, wishing he could be as great as Sheridan had been, or Andrew Ryan. He felt so very alone at that point. As he began to walk back to take one last look at the Fort Frolic atrium, something struck him. He was alone now, because Sheridan and Andrew Ryan were both dead. They had been great men, certainly, but neither of them, or Jack Ryan for that matter, had been great enough to hold on to Rapture, to save themselves from its parasites and its doubters. Edward was, in comparison, very much alive. He had faced the trials they had both faced, and come out of it still in one piece.
"Fuck it." He declared suddenly. "Fuck it!" He repeated, louder. He may not have been a great man, but he'd beaten the rest. That stood for something. So now, whatever it took, whatever he had to do, he would do it. Edward Carson was going to be the very greatest man of Rapture's history. But unlike all the others, he would not hesitate to rid himself of doubters before they rid themselves of him. And he was going to start with that bitch Lily Van Zant.