Jack VIII
Jack stumbled over his own feet as Liz tugged him away from poisonous gas, nearly pulling her down with him. His knees slammed hard against the metal floors, pain shooting through his body. When he forced himself back up, he glanced down to see a massive rip in the knee of one of his jeans. He felt blood trickle down his shin and calf, seeping into the denim cloth. He nearly gasped, only for Liz to press the scrap of fabric harder against his mouth. When he looked up at her, Liz shook her head as she started pulling him along again. Finally, they rounded a corner and shoved themselves through another shutting door. Then and only then did Liz let Jack lower the rag.
"I can't believe that Ryan is willing to destroy the entire ecosystem of Arcadia just out of spite!" he gasped, resting his back against the wall as he caught his breath.
"We've got a bigger problem," Liz said grimly. "If all the plants die, then Rapture will run out of air!"
Dread pooled in Jack's stomach. He had a lot of time to consider the ways he'd rather not die since coming to Rapture and while suffocating wasn't number one on his list, it was certainly up there. "How long do we have?"
Liz bit her lip, brow furrowed. "Hmmm, it's hard to say. Depending on how far spread and far-reaching that poison Ryan is pumping into the vents is. Theoretically, it could be days or even weeks, but the actual calculation is a little more complicated. If you trapped a man in an airtight room without furniture that has a volume of 357.6 cubic meters, 21% of that volume would be oxygen: almost 75.1 cubic meters, or 75,100 liters. Now, an average 70 kg adult male requires 250ml of oxygen per minute to sustain basal metabolic rate by doing minimal exercise, like sitting in a chair. Of course, if the man were exerting himself hard, he could quadruple that. Still, assuming the man is sustaining a basal metabolic rate, all the oxygen in that room would last him 300,384 minutes, or 208 days. Roughly."
"Of course, the man wouldn't be able to breathe all the oxygen content to zero. He'd only be to survive until about 10% oxygen in the air, so we'd have to half that first estimate and say they could survive about 100 days. Well then we have our next problem, the air in that room isn't just oxygen. Our man in the room will also produce about 200 ml of carbon dioxide every minute, assuming he eats normally. Again this is at rest. At 1% CO2 in the air, he will become uncomfortable. This will happen after 15,000 minutes or 10.4 days. At 5% CO2, his judgment will be severely impaired and he will struggle with simple tasks such as opening a door or turning on the light. This will happen in 52 days or so. After that point, our man will struggle to remain conscious. Once he permanently falls unconscious, death will be right around the corner. Likely at day 53, if he is lucky."
Jack blinked at her. Did Liz have all info tucked in her mental back pocket or did she do all those calculations on the spot? Either way, it was impressive. " So, what does all of that mean? That the accumulation of CO2 is going to be our biggest problem?"
Liz sighed. "It means that... I don't know how much time we have. And that we need to find Julie Langford as soon as possible if we hope to stop this hellscape from deteriorating even faster." She paused for a minute before adding, "And that I tend to do math problems when I'm nervous. I find that the familiarity of formulas and numbers is... comforting, solid, and understandable when things get tough. Does that make sense?"
"I guess," Jack shrugged. "I mean, math is probably healthier than smoking. And that's how I deal with stress."
"You have no idea how right you are," Liz said with a small smirk. She glanced down at his leg and winced, "Ouch, did that happen when you fell earlier?"
"Yeah, no big deal."
"It's not a big deal now, but we're in a hot, damp environment filled with dirt and god only knows how many pathogens. We need to get it cleaned up and healed so we don't have to deal with an infection setting in." Liz crouched down to examine the wound, lightly tugging the fabric aside. "The good news is that this would be pretty easy to patch up. Give me a second."
Jack felt his face heat up. "You don't need to do that. I'm not a baby."
Liz smiled up at him. "It's fine, you can return the favor next time I'm injured."
Jack winced. "Ugh, I really wish you wouldn't say things like that. It feels like tempting fate."
With a shrug, Liz poured water over the cut to wash away some of the partially dried blood and dirt. "It is what it is. As much as I would love to get through the rest of this without so much as a papercut, we both know it isn't happening."
"Still, is it so wrong to be a little more hopef- AGH!"
"Breath through it," Liz advised, unleashing the trigger on the health pack injector. When all the medicine had drained into Jack's thigh and the cut had already started to knit itself back together, she pulled out the needle and tossed it aside, smiling once more. "There, much better."
It was only then that Jack realized the position they were in. More specifically, the physical position that Liz was in: on her knees, right in front of him, while Jack stood, leaning against the wall. The heat moved from his face to his ears and down his neck.
Before he could stop himself, a joke slipped out of his mouth. "It's still a little sore. Maybe you could kiss it just to be safe."
Immediately after the words left his lips, Jack bit his tongue so hard it nearly bled.
Thankfully, Liz just laughed at his stupid joke. "You should be glad I threw that injector away. You don't need a giant needle in the femoral artery, mister."
She rolled back onto her feet. "C'mon now, we've gotta keep moving. Finding Langford is the first step to saving those trees. And our own skins."
"Yeah, I don't give a damn about saving the Rapture. As far as I'm concerned, this entire city can be left to rust into nothing at the bottom of the sea. But there are still people down here who need help, Atlas, Tenenbaum, and all the Little Sisters, both cured and uncured," Jack said. "For them, and anyone else who might be sane, we need to keep this place going."
The smile Liz flashed in his direction made Jack feel better than all the chocolate and painkillers in the world.
"Glad we're on the same page," she said. "But, more than that, until that gas is cleared up, all the ways in and out of this section of Rapture will be closed off. We won't be able to leave."
Jack winced. Atlas had something similar. 'Those two don't seem to agree on much, which makes the lack of escapes a bigger issue. We've got to get this going.'
Beautiful as Arcadia looked, he didn't want it to be his grave.
"Do you want to lead then or should I?" he asked, shouldering his shotgun.
"I will," Liz said after a moment. "You cover my back. We should be close enough to the labs, but that might mean we could be close to a ton of boobytraps and splicers."
"You got it, ma'am."
And, with that, they returned to their push through Arcadia; silently working together to take out the different splicers and security measures they came across. After dealing with the third ambush they came dealt with, it struck Jack just how well he and Liz had come to fight together! They had only known each other for... maybe a whole twenty-four hours, yet they picked up on each other's tells and intentions from just body language alone. More than that, Jack could trust that Liz would stay out of the way as he was blasting away with his shotgun, dancing around the fight with her handguns or crossbow.
'I don't think this is what people mean by soul mates, but I've never met anyone I trusted this much,' Jack thought, reloading his shotgun after stepping over the body of a dead splicer. He went to compliment Liz on her sharpshooting when a feral shrieking from down the hall altered him of more foes nearing. "Shit!"
"The lab isn't far, let's run from it!" Liz said, nodding towards a doorway. When Jack gave a quick nod of agreement, she turned on her heel and bolted down the hall with Jack close behind.
It was hard to say how long they ran -time hadn't had much meaning since Jack's arrival in Rapture- but he was panting when they approached a large doorway, all the lingering aches and half-tended to injuries lighting up in pain.
As they got closer, a twin set of television monitors lit up with the distorted, black-and-white image of a woman in glasses appeared.
"My trees! It wasn't you, was it?" the woman asked, her voice harsh and angry, even over the static of the speakers.
"No!" Elizabeth called back. "You're Dr. Langford, right? Julie Langford?"
"...Yes, and who are you?"
The feral shrieking getting closer, Jack shouting up at the television. "People who are trying to save not only your treats but everyone left in Rapture! People who are trying to bring down Andrew Ryan!"
"Hmmm, that is a big claim from someone running scared. Still, I've been watching your escapades through my security system and you two seem reasonably sane. I shall let you in, and then we can discuss saving my trees."
The thudding footsteps of the approaching enemies were scarily close, likely within twenty yards, when the door slid open before them. Not waiting a single moment, Jack and Liz both threw themselves through the opening. A loud shriek rang out from behind him, but it was drowned out by the sweet, sweet sound of the door sliding safely shut behind them.
"Thank god," Jack panted, sucking in as much air as he could.
"There is no god here."
Jack looked up to see the woman, Dr. Julie Langford, glaring at him and Liz.
"Put your weapons on the ground," she demanded. "Right now! Or I'll kill you both where you stand."
"How?" Liz asked, glancing Langford over. Jack followed her lead, seeing no gun or other weapon on Langford.
The woman smirked coldly and pointed to the grated section of the floor they were standing on. "Ryan is not the only one with access to poisonous gas. And, no, you will not be able to avoid it."
Liz's eyes narrowed. "You're joking."
"Maybe, do you want to risk it?"
"No," Jack said quickly, putting his shotgun down on the ground before shedding his other weapons. After the incident with Peach Wilkins, doing so didn't thrill him. But, on the other hand, the EVE in his veins meant that he could still fight if need be. And Langford looked a lot easier to take down with his bare hands than Wilkins was. "As I said, we're just here to help."
When he met the woman's eyes, Langford almost reeled back. He blinked at her. "What?"
"...Nothing," Langford said, shaking her head. "You just... looked like someone I knew a long time ago."
"He's Jack, I'm... Liz," Jack's ever so constant companion said, drawing attention to herself. "And you're Dr. Julie Langford. The scientist responsible for creating and maintaining Arcadia, and the owner of Langford Research Laboratories."
"Yes, though I'm not certain the latter still stands true." Giving them both another once over, Langford sighed and nodded towards a smaller doorway. "Come, follow me. I'll make us some tea."
Jack glanced at Liz, silently asking what she wanted to do, and his partner nodded. Retrieving his weapons and securing them back into place, Jack took the opportunity to scan the room around them. It was large, yet cramped by the many strange, box-like machines, each with small plants inside lining the walls. Tables were cluttered by beakers and test tubes, along with many sheets of paper and open books. Along one wall was some sort of control command, with monitors that displayed different scenes of Arcadia.
'It looks like Langford has kept busy,' he thought, following the woman through the secondary doorway into a smaller room.
This one was clearly a living space, with a small, neatly made bed in one corner framed by a dresser and a bedside table with a lamp. On that bedside table was a pad of paper and pen, looking as if they'd been left there the previous night. A long, single shelf jutted out from the wall, running most of the perimeter of the room. On it was a mix-matched collection of books, knickknacks, potted plants, and other things like folded blankets and sheets. Tucked away in another corner looked like an old-fashion wash tub, with racks of drying towels and clothes. There was even a kitchenette area, containing not only a stove and sink but also a refrigerator and cabinets. A narrow, final door that led to what Jack could only assume was a bathroom completed the apartment, making it truly livable.
'This is actually pretty cozy. I wouldn't mind living here,' Jack thought when Langford waved for Jack and Liz to take a seat at the little table in the center of the room.
He nearly groaned in relief when he sat down, his body sagging under the weight of exhaustion and pain, and he could feel the blood rush back to where it belonged. A look across the table told him that Liz felt that same way. Langford, however, sounded positively cheerful as she filled a tea kettle with water from the sink and set it to boil on the stove. Pulling out some mugs from one of the cabinets, Langford also filled a large bowl with something from the fridge before wetting two washcloths.
"Dried fruit," Langford explained, putting the bowl down on the table. "I had to dry it myself in the oven but it tastes sweet enough. You both look famished, getting some food in you will make it easier for you to save my trees."
She handed them each a wet rag. "But first, please, clean yourselves off. I'd rather not have my home dirtied."
Under different circumstances, Jack might have found such a thing insulting. Yet, at the moment, the bowl of food looked so appetizing that he wordlessly scrubbed his face, neck, hands, and forearms the best he could with the cloth. When he finally put it down, Jack nearly gagged at how dirty it now was. Still, that hardly mattered when Jack got his first handful of dried fruit, cramming the sweet treat into his mouth and audibly moaning in delight. This only increased when Liz pulled out some of the remaining rations and water from her bag, sliding half over to him as she too ate.
"My, you two have certainly been through the wringer, haven't you?" Langford asked, sprinkling some small leaves into the mugs and adding steaming water.
"That's putting it mildly!" Liz said around a mouthful of food. She swallowed hard and eyed the older woman. "But you... you look barely bothered by the city coming down around our ears. Why is it?"
"Well, that is a long story," Langford said. She brought over their tea, putting it down on the table. "Would you like to hear it?"
Welcome back! I've always found Julie Langford an interesting character so she'll have a bit of a bigger role here than in the game. Oh and, yes, Liz's math calculation about how quickly someone would run out of air in a sealed room was based off of a problem one of my college professors had us do for an exam. He was a weird guy.
