A/N: SteinMon1920518 here again.
Sorry for the delay. I put my main story on hiatus to hopefully get this out, and from there, it was a downward spiral. First was the writer's block, then the lethargy set in, and then... to top it off with a cherry, the fan to the computer I was using quit working, so then I had to get that fixed. That's still in the shop, so I just got a new computer instead. The minority issue with getting this chapter out was that I didn't know if I wanted to make the Medical Pavilion a two-chapter or three-chapter endeavor. But alas, I have returned finally... lets just get this going, shall we?
Review Responses:
- MartyrFan: Sounds good, but then again, it's technically non-lethal, since it decimates all but 1 Health, and stays that way no matter how often you do it.
I think the worst part about Jack's memories is that he has them all, but most of them are forcibly repressed, and others are just fake. But we've seen throughout the game that some things keep cropping to the surface, giving us little tidbits that something is wrong. But since he probably spent the most time with Tenenbaum and Suchong, their influences had the most effect on him.
Actually, I'll have it resolved in this chapter... or at least partially. It's not quite like yours, but it uses elements that I thought were realistic, and integrated pretty well.
Ahhhh! I can't say anything without SPOILERS! Just wait and read. Reasons for what will be explored.
I'm not sure if Jack is such a moral blank slate. We forget that Jack has a whole set of implanted memories. Granted, there are a lot of holes and gaps, but what is filled in gives him some sense of right and wrong, justice and vengeance, mercy and brutality. Rapture skews those morals for sure, but that in and of itself will undoubtedly shape him.
- razmire: Fair enough I suppose. Ah! The Armored Shell tonic. One of my fav's early on. Less applicable mid-game once you have things down pat, but really nice for that final fight.
- "Joe" & "Bob": Well, here it is!
*End of Responses
Without further ado. *Que the dimming of the lights*
Chapter 5: The Cost of Humanity (To Fell a Giant)
"Subject is showing remarkable recovery rates," a strangely broken voice said in the darkness. "However, with the way the war is advancing, there is no guarantee it will survive."
"Even with the Ryan's blast'd tubes keepin' 'im goin'?" another voice seemed to sneer.
There must have been a nod, because the first voice continued. "Certainly. But it is not just about the Vita-Chambers or the machines. It will be competing with residents that have been splicing far longer than it has. Even if it can come back from death, it still has to grow stronger fast enough in a short amount of time to compete with the rest of Rapture."
"Wha' abou' all the programming? All those little tricks and skills he's gowt up 'is sleeve?"
"Please Mister Fontaine, you will do well not to refer to 'it' as a 'he'. It's barely human as is," the first voice chastised. "But those skills will still need to be utilized before they sink in. Plasmids and mental conditioning can only do so much."
"I don't need to tell you how much is riding on this and your little lab experiment, Suchong," the second voice snapped. "I need your little lab pet up and running, with customer satisfaction guaranteed."
There was a brief pause. "Th're is… one thing we could try."
"I'm listenin'."
"It will take longer to condition it, but… theoretically, there are ways to… augment him that aren't necessarily… public. Specifically, tonics. But if I'm correct, there may be a way to stall the effect. Create a delayed gene activation using the Plasmid-Mental phrasing."
"Isn't there already an activation phrase? You still haven't told me wha' it is."
"Close, but not quite. That is part of the compulsive mental conditioning program we use on the little brats. This. This will be a complete stalling of genetic activation until the phrase is said. Once activated, it will become as permanent as any Plasmid. Perhaps even more so. The problem is… funding such a project."
There was a muttered growl. "Yur a real bastard, aren't ya Suchong. Fine! How much?"
"Mister Fontaine," the first voice said with a little more cheer. "I'm sure we can come to some arrangement. Perhaps–" Kshhhhhh-brrrr-rrrrrr-shhhhh!
"'–Shhhhhhhhhhh–Krrrrrrrrrr!'"
"Uhhhhh!"
"'Krrrrksshhhhh–' 'Ello? Boyo?!"
His eyes furrowed slightly in rejection, trying to fall back asleep. He didn't want to wake up. His head was pounding, and his body was sore all over. Overall, it felt like someone had sent him head-first into a woodchipper, and he'd lived to tell the tale.
"Fuckin' door-to-door salesmen," he muttered trying to lay peacefully on his arm. Suddenly he was aware that the ground was wet, and somewhat slimy. Jack opened his eyes begrudgingly at the odd texture, and– oh…?
…Yeah. Rapture.
"Jack! Are ya there boyo?! Answer meh damnit!"
He hissed as he rolled over, his whole body jerking as he landed on his shoulders, trying to keep his own tears from adding any more saltwater to the already flooded city. His muscles hadn't felt that sore since he was a kid milking the cows for the first week. Every breath made a sharp pain stab into his ribcage, every twitch was like a hundred needles jammed into his muscles. As carefully as possible, he reached down, unhooking the radio from his pants, and brought it up to his mouth.
"Present," he groaned weakly, his tongue feeling like lead and tasting like shit. Given the unsanitary conditions he was lying in, this was a possibility. One he'd rather never think of again.
"Aw Christ! Ya gave meh a heart attack for a moment there," Atlas stated, his voice heavy with relief.
"How long was I out?" Jack asked, suddenly wishing he had a jolt or two of adrenaline to dull the pain. It had been working so far. God only knew how much of his pain was from fighting Steinman, and how much of it was simply from being in Rapture for the past… how long?
"Twenty minutes, give ur take," he answered. "Thought Steinman had done ya in."
"Nope," he groaned, pushing himself up. "Speaking of which, where is Steinman?"
As if to answer his question, Jack turned back toward the flooded area just behind him. A single Splicer lay face down in the water, unmoving. The orange scrubs Steinman had worn were scorched with holes, some of the material looking melted to his skin in some areas.
"Nevermind," Jack amended. "He's dead." And the radio still worked after being drowned in water. At least Rapture knew how to waterproof something important.
"You alright?" Atlas asked, the urgency in his voice corralled by concern.
"Maybe?" Jack wondered solemnly, unable to take his eyes away from his handiwork. "I know it's dumb, but it feels different this time. Every other Splicer was just a nameless face I could bludgeon or shoot. But I have a name for this one, so I guess… killing him just felt a little more real."
"Don' you dwell on that boyo. It was time somebody took care of that sick bastard," Atlas stated. "His mind was lost long before ADAM."
Jack took a deep breath, ignoring his screaming sides as he did so. "I don't regret it," he stated reassuringly, pushing himself to stand. He gently began to walk through the water, his toes cringing at the cold, yet welcoming the numbness it brought, as he moved for the First-Aid Station. Hacking it took a little more time than normal as he tried to work without inviting pain into his limbs, but he gave himself some space considering the state he was in. With a quick sterilization from Incinerate, he blindly paid the machine and let the needle do its work as his aching body began to slowly fade back normal. Still, it did little for the apparent exhaustion he felt. "Alright. I'm patched up and ready to go."
"Make sure you get the key off of Steinman and head back to Emergency Access," Atlas directed, a small smile to his voice. "I'm working my way to the back side of Port Neptune meself. We'll get there soon enough." And he cut out.
Jack nodded to no one, turning from the Station to a desk in the middle of the water. He quickly grabbed the Med-Kit laying on its surface, bypassing a standing safe completely. Again, for another time maybe.
He proceeded back to his fallen nemesis, the pinnacle of the Medical Pavilion, before pulling him to the stairs to properly search his pockets. He found the key – some card shaped thing with indents and ridges – along with a full magazine of Tommy rounds, as well as over half a magazine of Tommy Anti-Personal rounds. In the end – despite being a lot more difficult, and Jack knowing his name – he was just like every other Splicer Jack had encountered. Dead, and looted.
He quickly checked his weapons and their ammo, reloading his machine gun with his newly acquired full-set of ammunition. When he was ready, he walked back the way he'd come, his steps more stable now that he was healed up.
It wasn't until he passed his recently acquired turret and Surgical Savings that he heard the Splicers.
"Do ya think 'e got 'em?" "Is it really such a good idea to find out, darling?" "What if Steinman won?" "Maybe 'e'll let us clean up the scraps."
Of course, that all changed when they saw Jack, pistol in hand and looking like he'd been caught in an explosion (because he had).
"'E's alive! Get 'im!"
Jack grumbled, half glancing at a divider bar before Telekinesis brought it over to him. With a gentle twist of his hand, he began to spin it at the shaft. While it wasn't sharp, it didn't matter. The moment he launched it, it corkscrewed through two Splicers that had been foolish enough to line up, impaling through them like a spear.
The first one leapt at him, clipping Jack in the jaw with a piece of rebar. He barely felt the reflex, a concussive wave blasting around him, sending the Splicer flailing into the last. Jack hissed at his smartened chin, tromping over to the downed two before they understood what was happening.
Another idea formed in his head as his veins began to crackle with red fury, Incinerate licking up his entire left arm. The Splicers. They whimpered and cowered, their arms held up in surrender. Maybe. Just maybe.
"Do you want to live?" he growled, earning him flinches. He couldn't help but smile bitterly at their cowing.
"Yes, yes," one answered quickly, his ugly head nodding rapidly, keeping his palms up in surrender. "Anything," he huffed. "Anything."
The other wasn't so cooperative. "Fuck you!" He spat, missing Jack by a mile, but it was the action that counted.
Jack's fiery hand latched onto the side of his face, the flames growing hotter as it consumed Splicer flesh. The second one screamed in agony, trying to pry Jacks hand away, but only serving to burn his own hands as he touched his arm. Jack returned his gaze to the more compliant Splicer, glaring at him. "You tell every Splicer you find that Steinman is dead. And you tell them that I killed him. Understood? Otherwise–" He let another scream from the other Splicer do the talking for him.
The Splicer whimpered, nodding silently as he watched his companion from the corner of his eye, just before Jack put a pistol to the burning Splicers head, and pulled the trigger, blood splattering onto with face without a flinch. "Now go. GO!"
The last living Splicer of the group scrambled, his slightly too long arms and legs scratching and clawing to get away, not even bothering to look back at a disheartened Jack.
"Sometimes, it's better to be feared," he mumbled, keeping his tears locked away before they could catch him off guard again. He had to be hard. He couldn't let Rapture get to him. Fear was the most effective method down here. And if it got a few more Splicers off his back, even better. He just never thought that he would become the object of that fear.
He absently looted the three Splicers he killed, pulling in fourteen dollars before he trudged onward. The Surgery Foyer was thankfully devoid of life, save for the lively glow of the Vita-Chamber; the group he'd just killed probably the only ones brave enough to venture into Steinman's territory. But just as he was about to leave through the gear door, he heard another crash, and the floor shook beneath him.
His radio whirred to life. "Sounds like another tunnel collapse."
"Fucking serious?" Jack sighed. He half hoped that it didn't collapse on that Splicer he had spared. It would suck if his half-formulated plan went to shite before it had even been executed.
"I know. Welcome to Rapture: The World's Fastest Growin' Pile of Junk."
Jack smirked at that, moving into the glass tunnels. Before he'd stepped more than a foot, his vision flashed like a camera bulb, hazy images of a hand holding a cigarette gradually growing further back with each flash. As if to add to the ambiance, a distorted cry of agony seemed to accompany the display.
Jack quickly stabilized himself before he tipped over, shaking his head. He hoped that wasn't a side-effect of the ADAM. He continued moving through the hall as it continued to shake, some of the concrete overhead dusting down on him. He was quick to note once he had moved around the pillar island that the tunnel ahead was leaking water and slightly askew, the door crumpled inward. "Jesus."
Luckily, there was another door opened to his left, one that hadn't opened when he went past previously. Down it, he could make out what looked like a fallen pillar and broken piping. However–
"MMMUUUUUUUUUUHHHHHH!" something bellowed. A Big Daddy. Sounds of gunfire accompanied it, followed by a moan of agony.
"Mister B!" And his Little Sister.
Jack groaned to himself softly. 'No where to go but forward.' The least he could do was not get caught up in whatever fight was ensuing. He decided to sneak forward, so as not to draw attention to himself when he walked past whatever chaos was commencing.
A scream sounded, just before an enormous body flew through a window, smashing into a pillar with a deep wail. The Big Daddy sat in front of him, its multiple eye lights flickering as flames danced across it. A moan echoed from its diving suit, a large hand lifting toward the next room before it let out one, deep, moan. Its hand collapsed and it stood still.
"Com'ere little girl," a Splicer cackled. "Hold still so I can take yur ADAM."
"No! No-no! Go away!"
His radio whirred. "It's a little one. Here's your chance to get some ADAM."
Jack was just in front of the broken glass window, next to the door leading into the next room. A Splicer dressed in dirty white scrubs was looming over a Little Sister, a small club in his hand that he prodded almost pointedly at her stomach.
"It's just you, and me, and all the tasty ADAM I can drink," it whispered.
Jack's throat constricted at the tone. Hunger. The Splicer's tone was pure lust and hunger. The way it looked at the Little Sister, like she was a meal. It's next fix. It curdled in Jack's stomach and set the back of his neck prickling in disgust. It was such a vile sound, and Jack felt something absolutely ugly wash over him, as if the tone itself made him feel unclean. And with it came an angry swell in the core of his chest. Interesting; he didn't know what to call this feeling.
The Little Sister screamed as she tripped backwards, the Splicer's club lifted overhead with a wicked grin on his face shadowing through his surgery mask.
"Daddy!" she screamed.
Jack didn't know what he was doing. Of course he didn't. Only an idiot would intervene. Which was why he was stunned when he plowed through the window's remaining glass, tackling the Splicer before he could strike. They tumbled to the side, the Splicer's flailing smacking Jack in the back with his club, triggering a formless pulse, knocking them both away from each other.
He rolled away, gripping his pistol in both hands as he landed on his back, shooting the Splicer in the head from between his own feet. The bullet bounced off, slightly whipping the Splicer's head back; another hard-headed Splicer. He adjusted his aim only slightly, shooting the Splicer in the throat. Once. Twice. The bullets embedded into its flesh as it croaked, unable to wail from Jack's adrenaline-fueled accuracy.
Fire sprouted at the Splicers fingers. Of course! The Big Daddy had been on fire! Jack's own Incinerate crawled over his hand as the Splicer snapped. Jack felt it barely touch him before his veins began to glow molten lava up and down his body, fighting fire with fire as his own internal flames sought the Splicer's flames before they could catch hold of him. Eating. Consuming until all that remained was a shocked Splicer, and an equally puzzled, but slightly more energized, Jack.
"Oh right," he wondered aloud, vaguely remembering that his Electro Bolt had done something similar with Steinman. Although… he had been electrocuting water at the time. And half-conscious. And hallucinating. Fascinating; it was real after all. He wasn't crazy!
The Splicer was less fascinated as it grabbed its club from the ground, throwing it, and hitting Jack square in the forehead. Jack felt that jerk reflex again, this time as a blast of fire erupted around him, catching the Splicer on fire in an instant. Truly fascinating.
'Save the introspection for later!' he chided himself.
Jack snatched his shotgun latched to the satchel at his side, firing literally from the hip as the buckshot slammed into the Splicers head, spraying its brain behind it in a gruesome display that he was already used to. Hard head or not, his weapon was deadlier at close range.
He sighed as his head limply fell back to the floor, closing his eyes for a moment to reconstitute himself. When he opened them again, yellow orbs were right over him, staring down with ghoulish fascination. Startled, he leapt up too quickly, both of their heads ramming into each other.
"Ouchie," the little girl complained, rubbing her forehead.
"Ow," Jack groaned, scooting away from the Little Sister as he tried to regain his bearings. Right. She had ADAM. He looked back over to see her fiddling with his dropped pistol. "Hey! Don't play with that!"
Startled, she dropped the weapon, causing it to misfire into the wall with a loud ricochet that Jack swore was too close for comfort. "Jesus Christ kid!" he snapped, his hands half-covering his head as his gaze darted around, as if the bullet would somehow sneak up and bite him in the rear.
She back away, whimpering and tripping over herself as she moved toward her extinguished, but very dead, Big Daddy; grunting as she tried to push up its enormous arm and hide under it.
Sighing irritably, Jack walked over to his fallen weapon, bending down to pick it up, but his ire didn't last long. Half-chuckling to himself in amusement at the near miss, he began moving toward the little girl, still unsure how he was supposed to get ADAM from her. Maybe from one of those big-ass needles he'd seen before? There was that glowing red jar on it.
Click-click! "Don't. Move." Something thin and cold pressed against the back of his head, causing him to inhale sharply. "You will stay away from her, or it is you who will be shot next." Jack swallowed nervously. Sure there was probably a Vita-Chamber somewhere nearby, but why test fate, right?
Despite his impending death and resurrection, again, his voice fell short before it could even form. His eyes widened slightly, and his face lost all its tension. His breathing hitched as he tried to inhale, shuddering as he swallowed heavily. Once again, tears threatened the corners of his eyes, and he felt… happy? … truly, for the first time since setting foot in Rapture; and yet it felt like years since the last time he'd felt it.
And he didn't know why.
Thankfully….
"Easy now, Doctor," his radio responded for him. Despite his rather brisk appearances, Jack gave Atlas one thing: impeccable timing. "He's just looking for a wee bit of ADAM. Just enough to get by."
The click of heels drew Jack's attention as he watched someone move around from the corner of his eye, the gun barrel's pressure leaving his head, but clearly the aim was still true. He risked a glance up, meeting the eyes of his captor. He'd say one thing: she was easily the most normal looking person he'd seen in Rapture thus far.
Her more mundane attire was hidden under a long pink swing coat, large brass buttons holding it closed. The material was dirtied with grim, and the buttons were faded, and yet the current application clearly wasn't aesthetic, but for warmth in the underwater city.
The woman herself was younger than he had anticipated. Mid- to Late- thirties at least. And… German? Austrian? Jack didn't know a lot about accents, but it was his best guess. Her brunette hair was surprisingly well kept, her face clean; despite the conditions of Rapture. She appeared cosmetic free, with a slight pout or frown to her lips that made her seem indifferent; but made even less so by her hardened green eyes that bored into him accusingly.
At his radio's broadcast, she turned, eyeing the radio clipped to his pants before quickly looking back at Jack, reassuring him that she wasn't going lax in her aim. She gently nodded to Jack, and he slowly pulled up the device in understanding.
"I'll not have him hurt my little ones," she growled at the radio, still giving him that stink-eye.
"Hurt?" Jack asked, clearly missing something. "Why would I hurt her? I just want her ADAM."
"Unwissender Dummkopf," she hissed at him. "That will kill her."
That revelation settled in Jack's stomach like a block of lead, turning to look at the Little Sister still hiding under the arm of her Big Daddy, peeking out slightly to watch what the adults were talking about. His shock must have shown, cause the woman also looked surprised as she lowered her gun. "You did not know?"
He didn't answer, still processing what he was hearing.
"It's okay, lad," Atlas reassured. "That's not a child. Not anymore it ain't. Doctor Tenebaum saw to that. The ADAM's produced by a slug in that little monster's stomach. All ya gotta do is take it out." Okay, gruesome. But if the Little Sisters were really like the rest of Rapture, than they were beyond saving, regardless of what Jack thought of the methods.
But still, Doctor Tenenbaum? Thee Doctor Tenenbaum from the audio diaries? The voice had been familiar enough he supposed; but realizing now that he had a name to the face was something else altogether. And, as an added bonus, she was in her right mind, even if she had been pointing a gun at him. But, from what he had to go on about her, he shouldn't be all surprised she had created the Little Sisters.
Still though, there was something… familiar in her voice. Every time he'd heard it, he'd felt something… strange.
He shook his head. Survival was key. He couldn't hesitate. There might not be forgiveness for the things he'd have to do, but if those children were so far gone that they couldn't be saved anyway… well, Jack didn't like it, but mercy didn't always come cheaply. And if some good came from his sins, then who was he to judge?
As if sensing his intentions, Tenenbaum's hand snagged his wrist before he could step anywhere. "Bitte, do not hurt her!" She ensured her hold was secure before staring him straight in the eye, her tone only half-pleading. The other half was easily prepared to put a bullet in his brain. "Have you no heart?"
"Aye, that's a pretty sermon coming from the ghoul who cooked up them creatures in the first place. Took fine little girls and turned them into that, didn't you?" Jack watched as Atlas' words seemed to physically strike Tenebaum, her grip slackening on Jack's wrist. She seemed to notice something else about where she had gripped, because her face seemed to age right before his eyes.
He lifted his arm for his own inspection, wondering what had caused such a reaction. Well, there was the glow of a Plasmid in his veins. It let her know he was armed. Maybe the track marks on his arm from the Med-Kits and Hypos? It wasn't exactly appealing, especially dotted along his upper forearm. He looked like an opiate junkie.
"Listen to me, boyo: you won't survive without the ADAM those… things… are carrying. Are you prepared to trade your life, the lives of my wife and child for Tenenbaum's little Frankensteins?"
That was thee question indeed.
"Here," Tenenbaum said, her tone much softer. "There is another way." Jack turned to see her holding out a Plasmid bottle (unlabeled… again), its whitish glow reminding him of moonlight.
"Um," he hesitated, taking the bottle. "What does it do?"
"This will free them from their torment," she answered. "It will allow you to cure them."
"There is no cure for the Little Sisters boyo," Atlas rebuked. "Jack, you need every edge you can get in Rapture. It won't hesitate to sink its claws into ya."
He looked at the Plasmid, then at the Little Sister peeking at him, then back at Tenenbaum. "Why?"
"To give you another option… because you are among the few left to freely choose," she whispered. "But your choice must be soon. She will not last long without her Big Daddy. If you will do nothing, than I will take her with me." Tenenbaum retreated to the door, holding her elbows as she waited for his decision.
"Boyo?"
Atlas was right: he needed ADAM. He could get it from the Sister, but that would require him to… kill her. However, if she was anything like the residents of Rapture, then it would be better off if the poor thing was dead. He'd get his ADAM.
But Tenenbaum said she had a cure. She was the woman who had created the Little Sisters in the first place, and Jack wasn't sure how far he could trust her. But… what if? What if it really did cure the Little Sister? If he had the opportunity to cure her, but chose instead to kill her, would he be able to live with that.
Jack thought fast. God only knew how fast. There was so much to consider, and so little time to sort through it all. But there was a way to satiate his conscience. He had an idea, but–
His head pulsed and pounded, a faint ringing in his ears seemingly causing his vision to swim and warp. He held his head for a moment before noticing his nose was bleeding. Sighing in frustration, he wiped it with his dirty undershirt.
Sighing heavily with a slight groan as his head cleared, he brought the radio to his lips. "Atlas…."
"What is it, Jack?"
"…I'm gonna cure the Little Sister." Jack watched as Tenenbaum's gaze rose to his, her eyes wide with surprise, and brimming with unshed tears of relief.
"But wha' about–" "Oh, thank y–" They both tried speaking over Jack at once.
"There's a catch," he interrupted, glancing at Tenenbaum, making sure his next words sunk in. "A compromise. If I can save the Little Sister, than I will. But if this turns out to be a fluke, or another dud, or just some whoppin' can of bull, I won't hesitate to give her peace. Even if it means killing her." He didn't even know he could sound so cold. So menacing. He was half taken back at his own words and tone.
"I'm not doing this for you Tenenbaum," he clarified, glaring at the woman who could do that to little girls in the first place. "I'm doing this, because she deserves the chance to get better." Because that's what it was, wasn't it? A sickness?
Tenenbaum's words failed her as she opened her mouth to speak, but only nodded in understanding, accepting his conditions.
"What about my wife?! My son?! They deserve the chance to leave this city, don't they?!" Atlas snapped.
Jack's lips tensed as he brought the radio closer. "I promised I would help, Atlas. But what would they think if there was a chance to save someone else down here?"
"This is Rapture kid. It's everyone for themselves, and Tenenbaum is playing you for a sap. Even if those Sister's look like wee little girls, looks don't make it so. You'll need all the ADAM you can get to survive, mark my words."
Jack inhaled sharply. "Then I guess it's lucky for you and your family that I'm not from Rapture. You know, since everyone here is out for themselves." Atlas went silent after that, and Jack couldn't be happier for the moment.
Ultimately, it was his choice, and he had made it.
Jack plopped down on the ground in frustration, pulling out his needle and going through the motions of injecting a Plasmid. Unlike the other duds, the veins around the injection sight didn't go black. 'Huh. Is it like Telekinesis?' There had been a slight delay in activation.
"Is it supposed to work like this?" he asked Tenenbaum, raising an inquiring eye.
She nodded hesitantly, turning to look past him. "It was made to work in contact with the little ones."
Jack followed her gaze to see the Little Sister had come out from under the dead Big Daddy's arm, slightly hunched over and head turned; like she was trying to see around his back to what he was doing. 'Probably wondering why I haven't attacked her yet?' He didn't smile at her, only stared. He wasn't going to smile when he might have to take her ADAM; ergo: kill her. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to get it, but he wouldn't worry about that until it was necessary.
He held up his hand, offering it to her, like… like she was a little girl that needed help. She flinched back, beginning to whimper in that dual tone of hers. 'Oh God! If she starts crying-' He didn't even know if he could fight a Big Daddy right now.
"It is okay little one," Tenenbaum encouraged quickly, catching the girl's attention. Strangely, neither of them seemed afraid of each other. "It is okay. He is nice man."
The Sister looked back at Jack again, her eyes widening as she looked at the Splicer he had killed, before looking back at him. "He saved me from the bad man and made him an angel." She said this as though she had just come to this realization herself. "Is he a knight?"
Jack couldn't help the twitch that threatened the corner of his mouth. If she wasn't so creepy looking, her antics would almost be adorable… in an eerie sort of way.
"It is okay," Tenenbaum ushered, smiling as both her and the Little Sister slowly approached Jack. Within a few moments, he sat cross-legged between Tenenbaum and the Little Sister. The latter was still shying away from him, leaning more toward Tenenbaum than him. He guessed they were conditioned that way, since Tenenbaum did sort of… create them. "Here, Herr Jack."
Tenenbaum gently pulled his hand from his knee, guiding it over to the child. He hesitated, flinching back just a hairsbreadth from feeling her grayed flesh. He was afraid. Something so small, and he was afraid of her, even as she looked at him with those innocently haunting yellow eyes. The Sister evidently didn't like waiting, so she slapped her palm on his. It was strange, to see a hand so small compared to his own.
She was cold. That was the first thing he noticed. The second was that she smelled like sewage and rot; probably from living down there for so long. Those creepy yellow eyes looked down at their palms, her eyes widening in confusion.
"It's not working Doc," Jack stated.
"It is like any other Plasmid," she stated, as though it were obvious. "You must activate it."
'Great,' he thought with an exasperated eye-roll. All his other Plasmids required him to draw some association, some reason to be released. If he could cure her, then that's what he wanted. Then he could be on his merry way. For all the killing that would fall on his head, he wanted to save someone for a change, even if it was only to alleviate his soul. Because deep down, didn't this little girl deserve the chance to be free?
A soft white light slowly edged its way across his veins, pulsing slightly with his own heartbeat. The Sister 'ooh'ed at the light, sending an involuntary flinch up his arms as she poked at it. It was then that he noticed that the as the light spread into his hand, it began crawling up her little arm, glowing brighter by contrast against her dark grey skin.
Her small brows furrowed, moaning uncomfortably as the light continued like an infection through her veins, and Jack watched with fascination as the pigments of her hand began to lighten swiftly, revealing a pale hand that had yet to feel the sun. He watched. He watched until it moved to her eyes, watching as the yellow glow faded from her orbs, and slowly revealed a pair of calf-brown irises.
"Do you see this, Herr Jack? This is your doing," Tenenbaum stated, her tone smiling with her, even as the last of the child's grey flesh faded, and the glow died from both Jack and the Sister. It was mere seconds, but it felt like he was watching it in minutes.
The little girl's eyes widened as she looked around, like she was seeing it for the first time; both in wonder and in fear. "Woah!"
"It is okay child," Tenenbaum stated, slowly picking her up. She then turned to Jack, her eyes exuding gratefulness. "Thank you. The path of the righteous is not always easy, yes? The reward will become clear in time… be patient. I will make it worth your while."
Jack looked up at her, and the distracted little girl in her arms. "I didn't do it for a reward."
Tenenbaum smiled all the same. "But you will not refuse." Damn! She had him there. Before he could stand though, she held something out to him. One of the Little Sister needles, the red liquid filled jar atop brimming. "You need the ADAM, yes? Best to pick these up when you can."
Jack slowly accepted it, looking it over carefully. "What do I do with it?"
"Your guide, Atlas, will help you with that," she responded, gently rocking the little girl. "But be careful, mein erstgeborener. I fear the balance of power is shifting."
Jack didn't understand German but didn't put too much thought into it as he stood up, watching as Tenenbaum guided the little sister over to the vent. By the looks of it, they'd be safe in the room for the moment.
"What's that mean?"
Tenenbaum helped the Little Sist – errr? Hmm. Former Little Sister? – into the vent, whispering something to her before the little girl disappeared through. "Will she be okay in there?"
The doctor smiled. Again. He must be doing something right. "She will be fine. I have sent her to a safe place where the other little ones I've rescued are."
Jack curbed his suspicions for the moment. Until she gave him a reason not to trust her, there was no sense in being paranoid. Well… not too paranoid.
"But to answer your former question," she stated more seriously, "there are matters that I must look into now that you have arrived."
'What the hell does my being here have to do with anything?' he wondered in confusion.
"In the meantime…." She pointed toward the back wall of the room. He turned, watching as a panel opened, revealing one of those cursed chiming Gatherers Gardens. 'With a snap of my fingers,' he thought cheerily, blinking before cursing how catchy it was. "…use that. I trust you will take good care of him, Herr Atlas."
The radio crackled, silent at first, before Atlas spoke up. "I will. My family still needs help." Yeah. He still sounded pissed.
Tenenbaum nodded before looking Jack in the eyes. "Good luck, and be careful. We will meet again. Of this, I am sure."
She quickly made her way over to the doors, her posture suddenly guarded as she redrew a pistol, and set back out into the vile lands of Rapture in the province of Medical Pavilion.
Even as she disappeared, Jack looked at the large needle in his hand, and its glowing red jar. If ADAM was such a precious commodity down here, then she had just gifted him with something coveted. He might not completely trust her, but so far, she was off to a good start. Plus, he was sure he could find a use for the needle itself; if he could just tell the difference between those hard-headed Splicers and the regular ones, he might just stab the hard-headed ones through the eyes to kill them. Then again… he still had that scalpel.
Absently, he approached the Gatherers Garden, looking at the machine with no small amount of loathing. The small funnel-like reception near the top he assumed was for ADAM, along with a lever he assumed was for depositing the liquid-red
"If you cross paths with any more of them Gatherers Garden machines, make sure you pick up a new Plasmid or two," Atlas directed. "That is, if the price ain't too dear of course." The sheer mockery in his voice had Jack gritting his teeth.
"Either help, or don't, Atlas," he growled, looking at the needle point just inside the machine slot. It was the same as though he injected it himself, just done by a machine. He was looking closer at the machine, noticing a slot just below the needle dispenser. "What's this for?"
"Can'' exactly see ya boyo."
"It's a small slot, just below the dispenser."
"Ah Christ! Of course! Bloody Andrew Ryan had those installed on the Gatherer's Garden's," Atlas explained, no longer sharing his dispassion at Jack sparing the Little Sister. "Wha' ya need is a genetic key. Specifically, one built for you; so tha' one from Steinman won't work. It keeps track of all the little changes that go on in those genetics of yours with some sorta… baseline. Makes them accessible and monitorable to Rapture's big Think-tank. Hold on one second."
Jack was startled when a couple moments later, he saw one of those rotor bots fly into the room, its green eye looking over him quickly before approaching. Hanging underneath it by a chain, was the same strange card-like key he had picked up from Steinman, only completely blank.
"Now don't lose that," Atlas directed. "Those blanks don' grow in clams, but that thing there is rarer than any ADAM you'll find. If you don't 'ave it, you can't get more Plasmids. It's why most of Rapture doesn't have a bunch of superpowers already. People don't go mad solely from the Plasmids; it's all the raw, unaltered ADAM they keep shooting up with because they lost their genetic keys like the bunch of mad idiots they are. Only a few of the top-tier were smart enough to keep their keys."
"And you happened to have a blank one?" Jack asked, almost humored. The guy was prepared, he'd give him that.
There was a pause that made Jack pay attention. "That one was for my family, in-case they needed a little more protecting. My wife… she was none too keen on splicing, but if need be, that was their trump card to get some Plasmids." Just when Jack thought they were on the outs, Atlas went and pulled something like that. "I'll admit, that puts you at more risk with all the ADAM and side-effects, but like I said boyo, you're my best shot. I trust you more with half-a-dozen Plasmids than Moira with a kitchen knife. Gal was always more liable to accidentally take off one of her fingers peelin' potatoes. God, I love that woman." Honesty, and humor. Jack may not have liked all what was said, but he couldn't stay mad at him for that. The man just wanted his family safe, and Jack couldn't fault him.
Without another word, Jack plugged the key into the Garden, listening as the machine whirred to life. "Hey there!" it exclaimed in that high-pitched little girl voice from the jingle, causing Jack to flinch. Perception and reality were two very different things. "It looks like you haven't registered yet. Would you like to?!"
A small light flickered to the side, showing his options on rotating paradigms like slots. "Yes" and "No". Easy enough. Jack pressed the "Yes" slot, both slots rotating closed as the machine chimed up again. "First, please put your arm under the needle. We'll need to take a genetic sample, so your key can be custom fitted!" This machine was way to peppy, but Jack obeyed… right after the needle got a quick sterilizing taste of Incinerate. "And remember! Be careful not to move to much! It'll hurt less if you hold still." Not encouraging at all, especially in that creepy voice. Was it bad that he preferred an actual Little Sisters?
Before Jack could argue with the machine, the needle shot down, breaking the skin just above his wrist in his forearm. He could feel it edging deep between his radius and ulna bones, hissing as he took a deep breath to steady himself.
Ding! "All done!" it said as the needle pulled out. "Wow! You have a Black Pearl membership! Thank you for supporting Ryan Industries!" Then the slots along the sides glowed to life, showing him what the machine had to offer him. This time–
"Labels!" he exclaimed. "Sweet merciful God! That's the most beautiful sight I've seen in ages."
A chuckle rose from his radio. "It hasn't been that long boyo."
Jack could beg to disagree but chose otherwise. "What did the machine mean by "Black Pearl membership"?" Jack asked into his radio, feeling a little overwhelmed with this whole vending thing. All he wanted was to buy some Plasmids, to save some Little Sisters, to save Atlas' family, to leave Rapture, all ultimately so he could go home. Was that too much to ask?! He didn't want a membership to any exclusive clubs Rapture had to offer. That sounded like a dangerous thing.
"It means you struck oil boyo," Atlas stated cheerily. "Genetics run things here down in Rapture. It means you're in the same genetic pool as someone with a lotta pull in Rapture. Bonuses and discounts. Even the gobbledygook's and Parasite-hangin' extremists never said no to a cheaper Pep Bar. The higher the membership, the better the rewards. Black Pearl is about as elite as you can get ya bloody superstar." Now he was just trying to embarrass Jack. "You have a cousin or aunt that up and disappeared? Biological father that skipped town maybe?"
"I know my biological father," Jack stated defensively, slightly offended. Pap had taught him everything he knew about hunting, a skill that wasn't lacking down here… not that he could remember anything about their hunts. Huh? Strange. "But I didn't even know I had cousins until… about two days ago? So it's possible."
"Still, no point in questioning good-fortune," Atlas stated. "You get what you think you need, and we'll go from there. I recommend the EVE or Health Upgrades. Those'll keep ya alive long enough until ya get more ADAM for Plasmids."
Jack complied, looking over his options on the sides. "Um, Atlas… the slots aren't showing EVE or Health Upgrades."
"What?" That wasn't a normal sound for Atlas: complete surprise.
"Just some things called Enrage Plasmid, Armored Shell Gene Tonic, and EVE Link Gene Tonic," Jack explained, suddenly blinking in confusion. "What's a Gene Tonic?"
"That shouldn'uh happened," Atlas stated, ignoring Jack's question. "Must be a glitch in the machine. Nothin' you can do though. If there was one machine that Ryan made absolutely sure was unhackable, it was those Garden's."
Oh right! He could try hacking! Jack almost beat his head into a wall for completely spacing that he could do that. Then again, he didn't have the time to try, especially since Atlas just said that it was made to be unhackable, unlike the other machines. 'Probably because it has ADAM,' he reasoned. Maybe later though, when he did have some time to kill looking for supplies, he could come back for all the rooms he skipped over, all safes, and for the Garden; see if he could get into them. The fewer resources tapped into now, the more he had later… if some Splicer didn't get into it first, as unlikely as most of those would be.
He looked back over his options, trying to find something that might be productive to get. He wasn't too stoked about the Enrage Plasmid, especially after he had seen the aftermath of that experiment. No thanks. The Armored Shell looked promising, especially if he couldn't get anything else. The sign said twenty ADAM, though he wasn't sure how he was supposed to measure that out. Shrugging, he carefully unscrewed the top off the needle jar, reaching up to pour some of it into the funnel.
"You have thirty ADAM deposited Mister!" the machine proclaimed, causing Jack to wince, pulling up his wrench in case some Splicer caught him with how loud the machine was being. Not that they'd be able to use his Key, but they would certainly like his ADAM. "Would you like to apply your discount bonus?" He could do that?
"Yes," he muttered, pressing the proper slot.
"Perfect! Your Black Pearl discount gives you a twenty-five percent bonus off all purchases! That's the price of being Elite!" Eh, he wasn't going to complain, but who's idea was it to install membership systems. He guessed the harder you worked, the more you earned, the less you had to spend. Rapture sure had some weird ideals on Capitalism, but then again, that's how you kept customers rolling in and working hard. If they could get that discount later, they could spend what they saved on other things. Not a bad system all things considered, especially if it worked in his favor.
He looked at the Armored Shell Gene Tonic (still not sure what those were) and pressed the slot. Twenty-five percent off twenty was fifteen. Five ADAM saved. It didn't seem like much, but Jack figured it would add up eventually.
"Alrighty! Stick your arm under the needle, so we can give you your shot!" God it was never-ending with the instructions, but he complied. No sense in getting pissy over a damned machine. If it was really that bad, he'd take out his frustrations on a Splicer in a moment or two.
Like the duds he'd used before, his veins blackened around the needle entry. Huh? Maybe only the Gene Tonics did that, whatever those were. To say the least, he didn't feel any different. Did he look any different? He patted his exposed arms, looking down at his torso through his undershirt. No… not really. But, he did see a briefcase at his feet, and another of those recordings.
"All done! Was there anything else you wanted to get?!"
"No." And the slot was pressed. EVE Link sounded fine, but he wasn't having any problems with his EVE. Strange, he hadn't needed to use a Hypo… for a while now that he thought about it.
"O~kay! Put your ADAM carrier under the needle, and pull the lever above, and we'll deposit your remaining ADAM back to you. Would you like to use our ADAM Bank? Your Key will keep track of all the ADAM you have deposited!"
"No," he responded again. While the ADAM would be safer in a Bank; in Rapture, he trusted that machine about as far as he could hack it at this point. Nope, he preferred cold hard ADAM anyway. Kept him honest in his spending.
"O~kay!" And with that he held the Little Sister's needle jar under the machine's needle ('God, there's a lot of needles.') and pulled the lever. His excess ADAM began pouring into the jar. It looked about right, but he might need a bigger jar later on. He capped off the needle jar before retrieving his brand-new genetic key, putting it in his unoccupied back pocket and tying the chain to a belt loop. Now, back to the grindstone.
He bent down, playing the recording he found while he looted that suitcase. Steinman, "Gatherer Vulnerablilty".
"Not only are those little girls veritable ADAM factories, they're nearly indestructible. They regenerate any wounded flesh with stem versions of the dead cells. But their relationship with the implanted slugs is symbiotic… if you harvest the slug, the host will die. 'So you see it's not like killing,' Tenenbaum said. 'It's more like removing a terminal patient from life support.'
If this wasn't just an act for her, clearly something had changed for Tenenbaum; for her to go from that cold scientist to this terrified mother. Jack didn't know. The more he learned about Rapture, the less he was sure about anything. But he didn't think too long on it, especially when his suitcase search yielded him Armor-rounds for his pistol, and tommy rounds.
There were crates nearby too, so he went ahead and checked those. A Med-Kit, buckshot, pistol and tommy bullets. As prepared as he was going to be after that intense reprieve, he headed back out into wastes of Rapture.
He was immediately greeted by another crate as he stepped through the sliding door, looting it for the supplies as quickly as he could. Bright side was, he now had a full magazine of anti-personal tommies. He could already hear the Splicer's, so he equipped his wrench in his right and his pistol in his left, letting Electro Bolt course through the wrench jaws with a crackling spark; he wasn't about to mess with a system that worked.
He stepped out, back into the Medical Pavilion, the stairs down to Dental just in front of him. He turned left, immediately spotting a lady Splicer walking right toward him. She stopped fast, freezing like a deer in head-lights, looking him over quickly before running away. "It's the monster! Save me. Save me!"
"Looks like it worked," he muttered aloud. 'So, that Splicer wasn't caught in the tunnel collapse.' Yeah, it was certainly easier to be feared… if not a little disheartening.
He began heading back toward the Emergency Access once again. At least he wouldn't have to fight through a swarm of Splicers to get there.
"Time to go Mister Bubbles!" Oh God! Another one. And this time, he could hear the lumbering footsteps of the Daddy in question. No more freebies by the sounds of it.
His radio whirred to life again. "Missing Upgrades aside, you're ready now. It's time to take on one of them Big Daddies."
"The fuck you say?" Jack sputtered. He looked down at his undershirt, ripped pants, soaked shoes, wrench, and pistol. Yeah! He looked totally prepared for that. "What in God's deep blue sea makes you think I can take one of those things on?!"
"It won't be easy, but it's the only way to get to them Little Sisters… and the ADAM they carry."
Double-whammy! To save the girl, he'd have to fight the Big Daddy. To get her ADAM, he'd have to FIGHT THE BIG FUCKIN' DADDY! He groaned, watching as the brute lumbered around the corner, led by his Little Sister.
And, some jackass had smashed the turrets he'd hacked! There weren't even any expended bodies to loot. Sighing, Jack went over to them, crouching down to look at what was left. That sucked. He couldn't use them to help bring down the Big Daddy. At least their clips had been ejected, leaving behind some ammo. He looted both of those before he did the natural thing and sat down in the waiting room with the Health Station. He quietly began filling his weapon magazines, unsure if he'd need them, but hating to be unprepared all the same. He quickly checked his gear count, trying to keep things at least mildly organized and accounted for. Whenever he caught a Splicer trying to stalk closer to him, he glared, earning him a yelp and the shuffling of their scattering. Like rats.
'Twenty-nine pistol, fifteen armor pistol, two-full tommies and a half, one-full personnel tommy and some change, sixteen buck, six electric,' he noted, including what was already locked and loaded. There was also a pipe wrench, a scalpel, and a Little Sister needle. Somehow, he didn't think those would do much, being caught in melee range was unappealing after having seen what a Big Daddy could do up close and personal.
He also took a few moments to watch the Big Daddy as it passed by, content with simply following the little girl. It had the standard large drill he had seen with previous Big Daddies, but now that he had time to observe, it also had a large tank on its back, and what he presumed was the engine for the drill. The engine should run on fuel. It was also worth noting that the tank had a large valve at the top, though he doubted that anything he shot at it would damage the tank.
Unless, he had armor-piercing rounds.
He quickly changed out the ammo on his pistol. He'd only have six decisive shots at the maximum for the revolver, and they needed to count. The Big Daddy probably didn't carry that tank without reason, so it was obviously important. The drill engine was the most obvious vulnerability though. It might not stop Jack from getting stabbed, but it might stop his insides from getting blended beyond repair. Up close and personal wasn't really an option, so range was his safest bet. Things should go smoothly, not short of intense, as long as no Splicer's got any ideas.
Shotgun pumped, pistol cocked, tommy primed, Plasmids charged; and Jack did the stupidest thing he'd done since coming to Rapture so far: He picked a fight. With something twice his size and that easily outweighed him five times. He was a flyweight by comparison.
He followed behind the Big Daddy for a little bit, until he could find a place to hide behind. That's when he shot first. Three bullets flew from his pistol into the tank. Even with armor-piercing rounds, the most that happened was it dented. "Oh fu–"
"RRRAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGHHHHH!" Well… that plan didn't work. He was immediately met with a multitude of glowing red eyes.
"Unzip 'im Mister B!" Thank you, Little Sister.
The drill whirred angrily as the Big Daddy stomped, sending out a quake that disbalanced Jack. Thankfully, Jack had set this up next to a wall, forcing himself behind it as he tried to reformulate a new plan. He heard something crash behind him, peeking around the corner to see the Big Daddy right there in front of him, its drill smashed into the wall just a few inches from him.
"Oh, hi," he greeted weakly. My that drill looked bigger up close. The Big Daddy roared.
Pistol still in hand, Jack aimed up at one of the eyes, and fired quickly. The first one didn't penetrate the glass while the next one did, the light in that eye going out as the helmet began to depressurize through the hole. The Big Daddy began fumbling around, trying to use his free over-sized glove to stop the leaking. Jack used those few seconds to move, putting his pistol away while pulling out the tommy gun. He opened fire, just as the brute yanked out its drill, pulling stone and plaster with it. It removed its hand, revealing that while the light was still out, the helmet was no longer leaking.
'Great, they have countermeasures for that,' Jack thought, liking his chances less than when he'd started. Then it charged drill first. Jack reacted, Electro Bolt launching from one hand while he continued to fire away with his tommy.
"MMMMRRAAAAAHHHHHHH!" It charged again, this time too close as Jack was slammed into, its fist sending him flying across the Pavilion and into a wall. He coughed as he hit the ground, tasting copper. Oh, he hoped that armor shell thing worked, cause he felt like shit. He blinked his eyes open to an electrically stunned Mister B.
'Oh yeah,' he mused, pushing himself into the sitting position. 'Getting hit now makes my active Plasmid backfire.' He stopped his musings when the Big Daddy stopped jolting and made another angry groan. 'And it doesn't last long.' His head beat against the wall, rolling slightly as he tried to push himself up, only to flop back down. He was so tired.
Its drill spun as it stomped toward him slowly, almost as though it were fully aware of his current state of ouch.
"You hurt Mister B, and you'll be sorry," the Little Sister called.
Jack started chuckling hysterically, spitting the blood in his mouth off to the side. It couldn't be quick like the last two times. The Daddy just had to draw out his death, and the Little Sister was cheering it on. Not cool. He fumbled with his bag, reaching into its organized contents and pulling out a Med-Kit.
"The worst part is," Jack spoke as he thought. "I really don't want to die, even if I know I'm coming back." He chuckled again, as his laughter broke into huffed sobs. Who was he kidding? He was talking to a mindless field drone designed to protect the little girl he was trying to cure. Ready to face a Big Daddy? Yeah, right. One hit had sent him flying.
He breathed, letting himself calm again as he pulled out the syringe, sticking into his leg. He'd already been shot in the head and turned into modern art by a rocket turret. Being turned into shredded Jack cheese wasn't a pleasant thought.
The drill continued spinning as the giant cocked it back, prepared to run Jack through. So Jack beat him to the punch by squeezing the contents of the syringe into his leg without another word.
The Daddy struck, the drill grinding into the wall as Jack dived to the side, the medical syringe still in the process of healing his wounds as he landed with a grunt. The Big Daddy roared, trying to pull his drill out, only for it to tug back. Without a second thought, it tried stomping on Jack with his giant metal boots, only for Jack to push away in time to watch the floor tile crack underneath the massive impact.
Jack sprung to his feet, whipping around with shotgun-satchel in hand aimed at the drill's engine. He didn't hesitate to fire off two shots before he had to step back at the flailing Daddy. With an angry groan it ripped the drill from the wall, swinging it like a club at Jack, and Jack didn't hesitate to push back.
He lifted his hand, his tendons tensing as Telekinesis pinched a nerve in his head, meeting the Daddy's force full on. Reasoning? If one can lift objects with their minds, it stood to reason they could stop them too. Jack just over-played his hand a little, if the blood running down his nose was any indication from the physical-turned-mental jarring. His face contorted as the drill continued to move, albeit slowly, toward him.
Sniffing uncomfortably, he dropped his secure shotgun, raising his other hand. With two "hands" far stronger and more versatile than his own, he stopped the drill… barely. Jack struggled, to maintain his projection as he felt his shoes physically sliding away.
'You idiot!' he thought to himself. 'Don't fight the Big Daddy head on! In terms of strength I'm weaker!'
'Than what do I suggest?!' he thought back, letting Telekinesis slip as he ducked under the continued swing. 'I'm open to suggestions!'
'You have Plasmids, multiple weapons, a smaller agile body, first-hand experience with death, and a brain! Use it!' Wow. He was just great at giving himself pep-talks.
He sent a finger of lightning first, stunning the Daddy before lifting his shotgun with one hand, resting the barrel against the drill engine again before blasting another round of buck into it. It finally started spurting liquid as the giant knocked Jack away with its elbow, taking another backfire of electricity. By the time it recovered, it tried revving its drill again, only for oil to guzzle up from the bit, coughing up all over the Big Daddy's helmet.
"It's nothing personal, but right now, it's you or me," Jack stated as he stood up again, one hand holding his side, pointing a finger at the creature as his middle finger and thumb came together. He knew it didn't choose this. That it was just another monster created by Rapture. If Jack knew a way to save it, he would have used it. But right now, the best he could do was save the Little Sister. "I promise, I'll save her." It was all he could offer.
He snapped, Incinerate lighting up his veins and the Big Daddy. It's diving suit was engulfed immediately, partly from the Plasmid itself, but Jack knew that the oil certainly helped. The pained moan it let loose tugged at Jack, like he was no longer just a killer, but a torturer now too. The Daddy crumpled to its knees, using its drill as a crutch, unable to pick itself up as it weakened from the bullets and Plasmids Jack had hit it with. The oil-fueled fire had done its job.
Jack pulled out his pistol, only one of the armor-piercing rounds still loaded as he aimed at one of the many glowing eyes. "Nighty-night, Mister B," he whispered, keeping his voice resolute. The giant groaned at him, it's glowing eyes flickering between red and green before Jack pulled the trigger. And Mister B slumped forward, helmet clunking onto the ground, the metal giant never to rise again.
Jack stumbled back, breathing a shallow sigh of relief, especially since that last hit felt like his ribs might be cracked. Another enemy; another weakness exploited. And he didn't feel any better about it. It had been a close call, and he hoped he didn't have to encounter that every time he fought a Big Daddy. Then again, it was his first, and his techniques would only evolve. Still… it was sad to see something so dedicated to protecting someone down there, fall, even if it didn't choose this life.
"Wake up Mister Bubbles!" Jack turned to see the Little Sister pushing on the burning corpse's arm, her resonate cries and sobs hitting him square in the chest. "Wake up! Mister Bubbles? Mister Bubbles!"
Jack knelt next to her slowly, making sure not to aggravate his side or startle her. There was nothing he could say to let this soon-to-be child know how sorry he was. But… he could try. "It's okay," he stated softly. "Mister Bubbles is sleeping. He gets to be an angel now."
He didn't know where that came from; only that it felt… right.
The Little Sister peeked out from behind her hands, rubbing her yellow eyes as she stared at the man who had taken her guardian from her. There were no tears. Jack didn't even know if they could cry tears, but as she sniffed, she didn't look at him with anything resembling hate or fear. She just looked at him. Then again, he wasn't trying to hurt her, so who knew what was going through her head.
He slowly stood back up, wincing softly. And being as careful as he could, he offered his hand to her. She looked up at him, some faint glimmer crossing her yellow eyes, but something in that delusional mind of hers must have stuck out, because she reached out to him too. The moment her cold fingers curled onto his, he held her hand back as he lifted his radio.
"Tenenbaum, are you there?" he asked.
He waited a moment before he heard, "What is it Herr Jack?"
"I've got a Little Sister here. Could you send one of your girls to pick her up? We're in the Lounge next to the… Enwell Life and Health Group counter. It wouldn't be good if she got lost in the vents."
"You saved one already?!" She sounded surprised. Not that he could blame her. "Alright. I will let my girls know. There should be a vent on your way to the Foyer."
Jack nodded, even though he knew that she couldn't see him. He quietly picked up her giant needle before carefully leading the Little Sister back over to the nearby waiting room, taking a few dollars out to pay the Health Station for an injection. His body began to feel better again in moments.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a pair of Splicers – one of them the one that ran away screaming – staring at him quietly. And at the little girl by his side. He supposed that even though word had gone around that he killed Steinman, some were either very brave… or very stupid. Jack opted for the latter. He stepped pointed in front of the girl, glaring his fiercest as Electro Bolt lit up his wrench. They scattered quickly, but Jack kept a careful ear out after that.
He quietly led her over to the vent, which he could see from where he stood.
"Is it beddy-bye Mister B?" she asked up at him, glancing at the vent.
"I'm not Mister B!" he snapped, wincing to himself as she flinched away. He sighed, crouching down to meet her at eyelevel. "I'm not Mister B. I'm Jack."
"But you look like a Mister B," she stated, her ghoulish nose scrunching slightly at him.
He groaned slightly. 'Does everyone who saves them look like a Mister B? Or a knight?' Maybe that's all it was. An association; knights saved people. Mister B saves them. Jack thought for a moment, rubbing his chin before smiling to himself.
He flipped over his hands, exposing his tattoos. "Do Mister B's have these?" She shook her head softly. "That's because I'm Jack. Jack has these."
Her eyes widened in understanding. "So… if Mister B is a Daddy, then Jack is a…." Her hand covered her mouth with a happy gasp as she bounced up and down excitedly. "Then Jack is a Big Brother."
'No! She doesn't understand.' Jack almost face-palmed right then and there. At least she didn't think he was Mister Bubbles anymore. "Sure, kid. I'll be Big Brother, okay? But call me Jack."
She nodded, all grey skin, yellow eyes, and beaming smiles. "Jack. ~Jack~Jack~Jackjackjack~Big~Brother~Jack~," she began singing in that dissonant tone, skipping around him.
"Hello?" Jack looked up to see a normal little girl peeking out of the vent. "Are–are you Jack? Momma Ten-baum sent me for a little girl. Like me."
The Little Sister at his feet stopped at hearing the new voice, looking up at the other little girl. They weren't afraid of each other at least.
"Yeah, hold on," he said, returning his attention to the Little Sister. "Alright, I'm going to… here." He carefully picked up her hand, placing it on his palm. "There's going to be a glowing light, okay?" He smiled as she nodded, looking at his hand with more interest. Probably for the glowing light.
Jack felt the Plasmid crawl through his hand, his veins turning a soft white once more. And just as before, he watched as that white light in his veins began going through the Little Sister's veins via their connected hands. It was an interesting, if not beautiful sight to behold: Watching the grey fade away from her skin. Soon, a little girl with dark brown hair and blue eyes was looking back at him.
'It worked again,' he thought, more than happy that it did.
"Hey there," he stated, pointing up at the little girl in the vent. "You're gonna go with her, okay? You need to go to Tenenbaum."
The former Little Sister looked at him. "Momma Ten-baum?"
"Right. Momma Ten-baum," he said. He opened his arms quickly. "C'mon. I'll help you up."
She was easy to pick up, his hand lifting her by the armpits has he helped her to the vent, the other little girl backing down to make room for the new addition. Once she had her arms secure in the vent, he used his hands to give her something to push her bare feet off of. Within moments, she was sliding down the vent.
He smiled to himself slightly, before he turned to walk away.
"Big Brother!" He turned back, looking at the little girl now staring back at him from the hole in the wall. She lifted her arm out, holding out a large pocket wallet. "This was Mister B's for nummies. Since Mister B is an angel now, Big Brother can have it if his tummy gets the rumblies."
He took it carefully, looking over the old accessory before looking at her. "Thank you."
She smiled, then disappeared back into the vent.
He watched for a moment more, before moving through the door just to the right of the vent, a small smile lingering on his face.
Author's Notes: Would You Kindly Read & Review! :)
Hey guys!
I'll admit, I wasn't exactly sure how this chapter was going to go. With realism in mind, it makes sense that Jack would use his superiority to his advantage (even if he doesn't like the result). Fear is a powerful tool to the person who knows how to use it, and having Jack take advantage of the Splicer's terror was a good start to his rise in Rapture.
I also wanted the encounter with the first Little Sister and Tenenbaum to be more... personal. In the game, Tenenbaum is this stand-offish character that the player has no real connection with, so having her up close and in Jack's face with a pistol felt more immersive as far as content. I wanted the same thing with Atlas. While we don't necessarily even see Atlas, he's an integral part of the story, and making him real is how I want things to be. Having Jack decide between "Rescuing" or "Harvesting" the Little Sisters was a difficult decision. While I personally am always in favor of the "Rescuing", I did want some struggle in Jack's mind. The weight of that decision ultimately came down to a compromise, and I hope I executed it well.
As far as the Gatherer's Garden, I like to think it made sense. Not everyone in Rapture has Plasmid capability (almost every Splicer later has some sense of Incinerate or fire capability, which made sense since Incinerate was the most advertised Plasmid from what I can tell), even if they have a couple Gene Tonics here and there. But why? As often as people seemed to Splice before the Rapture War, it didn't make sense why so few in-game had Plasmids. Hence the Genetic Keys. As far as the memberships go, realistically, its how people promoted their goods and business: by creating exclusive or tiered membership (kind of like Costco); I think I explained it in-story.
The fight with the Big Daddy wasn't the moment to kill Jack again. You'd think that with how tough they are that Jack would have to come back at least once, and normally, I'd agree. But a couple things stood out to me as I played, reloaded, and continued observing. The drill engine and the tank on the Big Daddy's back for one. The tank I'd think would be reinforced, especially since the helmet seems to be atmospherically contained (which explained the countermeasure to fill in the hole Jack put in one of the helmet's "eyes", otherwise the portholes would be huge vulnerabilities) and therefore could pose a threat if so easily damaged like a common gas tank. The drill engine was another vulnerability, as demonstrated (but it still took three heads on shotgun blasts to even damage it). For two, Splicers have very simplistic fight styles (charging in for melee, run-and-shoot for ranged, etcetera), that are generally covered by the Big Daddy's counter-moves and quake-stomp, making them relatively easy for a Big Daddy to dispatch (but even a small force of Splicers has been known to take down Big Daddy's, albeit, with casualties). So hard, but not super hard. Jack is learning after all, even though its only been a short time in Rapture.
Take care, and don't forget to Review! Let me know your Questions, Comments, and Concerns (QCC) :)
Until next time. Possibly to be called Chapter 6: Into the Briny or A Shark Among Fish. (I know I'm a little ahead on the chapter names, but that just goes to show how dedicated I am to finishing this story)