The Mistral was gleaming and sleek, a state-of-the-art science vessel that was well-suited to its task. There were two four-man submersibles, named the Demeter and the Persephone. Joan, Jack and Bridgette were given comfortable, if small, cabins. As the ship made its way to the middle of the Atlantic, Henri invited his guests to a briefing in one of the conference rooms aboard. With Court, there were four other crew who would make up the dive-team. Two were Frenchmen, like Henri, the other two were Russian and American.
"We don't have blueprints or maps of the city," Court explained to the group, "but the tower that hosted the original bathyspheres is still standing, so we'll use that as reference. It shouldn't be too difficult to come up on the city from enough distance to allow for a scan of the area. We'll send the Persephone down first with myself, Milos, Paul and Jack. The Demeter will follow with Jean, Joan, Bridgette and Seth."
"I want to go down with the first crew," Joan said quietly.
"Joan…" Jack began, but when he saw his sister's expression, he just sighed and nodded. "She can take my place. I'll come down on the second sub."
Henri didn't argue. "All right. Once we've found a safe place to touch down, I'll radio back and you can join us." He glanced between the group's faces. "You all know that there is every chance that we will see very unpleasant things. If any of you feel this is going to be too much for you, I need to know. Now."
No one spoke. Court straightened. "All right," he said, rising from his chair. "We'll be in position tomorrow morning at eight o'clock. Be ready."
~*~
Joan was up at sunrise, sipping from a cup of very hot, very bland coffee and watching the horizon when she fist caught sight of the tower.
Her first reaction was surprising – she was overwhelmed at how beautiful it was. The architecture was a marvel and the edifice itself was grand, imposing and ornate. She had thought it would look menacing and evil. Instead, she found it eerily inviting.
"He knew what he was doing," said a voice quietly behind her. She glanced over a shoulder and watched Jack come to stand beside her at the railing, his own gaze focused on the spire.
"It's incredible," Joan murmured. "I mean…this one part of it, this bathysphere port…it's so impressive and elegant. How much could this have cost Andrew Ryan?"
"It wasn't an issue for him, Joany. Money, logic, none of that matters to a man building a dream," Jack replied. "More and more, I understand that he had a vision in his mind and he wouldn't compromise or stray one iota from it. I get the feeling he had imagined even the way the individual rivets of the girders would look, and he made them that way." Jack paused before speaking again. "I suppose that's why it always feels like I'm looking at him. Walking through his mind."
Joany shivered, but made no comment. The silence held for a little while before Jack finally turned to her. "Don't go down there, honey. Don't. It's a bad place with so much misery. I wish I could explain it to you." His expression contorted slightly. "There's nothing more horrific than a failed dream, Joany. Nothing. Stay here on the ship and I'll go and tell you what happened."
"I can't, Jack. I'm sorry." That was all she said, before touching his arm and walking away. Jack watched her and closed his eyes slowly.
~*~
Two hours later, the ship was a flurry of activity, the crew preparing to launch the submersibles. Joan had been given instructions on the procedures and was now waiting to climb into the Persephone. Jack and Bridgette stood close by, the latter smoking nervously. When it came time for Joan to board the small sub, Tenenbaum stepped forward and clasped her daughter to her tightly. "Be careful. Be smart. You are my good girl and I will see you soon," she promised, kissing Joan tenderly on the cheek. Joan gave Bridgette a fierce squeeze, then moved to embrace Jack as well.
"For better or worse, Joan, Rapture was just as much yours as it was anyone's. Remember that, and don't let it shove you around," he murmured. Joan nodded and disengaged herself from his arms, moving to the Persephone and carefully climbing into its belly. After her came Milos and Paul. Finally, Henri himself reached to climb up and in. He paused to look at Bridgette and Jack. "She will be safe," he promised gravely. The pair nodded, and Henri disappeared inside the sub, closing the hatch after him.
Joan felt the sub descending, and she stared out the small porthole, amazed at how quickly the water grew dark. She was silent, letting the three men run their instruments and carefully pilot the small vessel down into the depths.
"I have it on sonar," Milos declared quietly. "Veer left, about…thirty degrees."
Joan felt herself tensing. She wondered if she'd be able to recognize anything from the rubble…if anything would spark a memory.
"What's that?" Paul voiced.
"It's…I think it's light," Henri replied in a stunned murmur. "Light from under us."
Joan felt herself go cold.
"Oh, my God," breathed Court. "It's here."
And it was. Not rubble at all. Not ruins. No. To be sure, buildings had flooded and fallen, rotten and crumbled, but only a few. Here, still, was the city itself, illuminated and alive. Preserved. Joan saw the neon signs touting Fort Frolic and Fontaine Futuristics. She pressed herself against the glass, staring wildly at the sight, stunned and disbelieving.
"It has power," Paul said, his voice filled with wonder. "It's still got power, for Christ's sake."
"We have to tell Jack," Joan whispered. There was no response from the crew. She pulled back and looked over at the three men. "Get on the radio. You have to tell Jack. We need….we need to go back up."
The three men just regarded her without expression. Joan's own shifted from urgency, to confusion and, finally, to dawning realization. "You bastard," she choked softly at Henri.
"I understand your misgivings, mademoiselle," Court told her politely. "But they are, to me, unfounded. This is an unexpected development, but not an unanticipated one. And with it comes a new obligation on my part as an explorer and scientist. It would be remiss of me, even unethical, to allow such a discovery to go uninvestigated. After all, there may be survivors in the city."
"Jack told you what those survivors are like," Joan said furiously. "They're crazy and dangerous. How can you do this? You'd put our lives at risk just to explore Rapture? Didn't you listen to what my mother said? The place is a death-trap! The people -…"
"I would like to verify for myself the condition of the city," Henri replied tonelessly.
"Like hell," retorted Joan. "You smug little weasel – you want to get your hands on some ADAM."
"A fair compensation for risking my life and the life of my crew, wouldn't you think?" Court asked. "Now, mademoiselle, I must ask you to be silent. Further distractions will make our final descent more risky than I think you would like."
Joan leaned back, dazed and frightened. She watched the three men guide the Persephone into the city, searching for an empty bathysphere dock. Once or twice she eyed the radio console, but knew they'd be on her long before she could warn Jack and her mother.
Finally, the sub glided into a hatch, which automatically locked behind them and drained of seawater. Joan peered again through the porthole, unable to stop trembling. Carefully, Henri and the two crewmen opened the top of the sub. Paul went first, Milos after. Court looked over at Joan and motioned that she was to exit next. Mutely, white-faced, she did as bidden, easing herself up and out of the Persephone. As she climbed down the small, curving side-ladder, she looked at her surroundings.
My God, I know this place, she thought in horror. It was near Neptune's Bounty. She remembered walking here, walking alone in the darkness.
No. Not alone…
"Move," Paul said brusquely. Joan came out of her reverie and took a few steps forward. Henri came behind her, regarding the area with a critical eye.
"Amazing," he said. "Simply amazing. Twenty years and it still stands. Look," he declared, moving over to the nearest wall. "Advertising for…what? A theater? Incredible."
The group began to walk. They made their way through the dock and to the actual wharf itself. Joan was silent, but every moment that passed and every step they took increased her dread, until finally she couldn't help but speak.
"Henri, listen to me," Joan pleaded. "You have to listen. There's no way this city could have survived if everyone was dead. The place was falling apart when we left. I remember the flooding, and Jack told us that it Hephaestus was on its way to exploding. If this place is still here, it means someone's alive. Enough people alive still to repair things, to - …"
"I think that is enough from you, mademoiselle," Court decided. "It will be difficult to give news of your death to the Doctor and Monsieur Ryan, but they both knew there were certain risks involved."
He motioned slightly to Paul and Milos. Nodding, the two men started toward Joan. She took a stumbling step back and then screamed.
Almost immediately, a distant, groaning bellow answered the cry.
The three men froze. Joan was shaking violently, but she too held still. Henri frowned slightly, his attention leaving the young woman and focusing instead on the last echoes of the noise. "What was that?" he wondered aloud.
Before his crew could offer theories, the ground beneath their feet trembled faintly. A moment later, all four perceived a slight glow illuminating a doorway a hundred meters or so to their left. It was red.
"Holy shit," clipped Paul. "Run!"
But it was too late.
The thing stormed out of the doorway and barreled toward them. It was hulking, huge, humanoid in shape but dressed in some sort of bizarre diving suit. Its helmet bore metal grating and the red glow was its huge, round face-window. One arm had been replaced by an enormous drill. The thing was monstrous. And it was angry.
Joan watched as the three men tired to escape. The creature was surprisingly swift, and bore down on them easily. Henri was hoisted into the air and thrown forty feet to crash into a wall, tumbling down and not moving again. Milos was grappled and Joan heard him screaming madly as the monster tore into him, tearing at flailing limbs. Slamming Milos into the ground over and over until his was silent, the brute then charged Paul. With a shrill whirring noise, the drill came to life and tunneled through the man's stomach.
Joan screamed again and dragged herself quickly into the darkness and used the distraction to hide behind a stack of half-rotted boxes. She could hear Paul's rattling gurgles as he died, and she bit her lip hard to keep from screaming again. There was a thud as Paul's body was dropped and, for a moment, silence came over the wharf.
Then she heard the heavy fall of the thing's diving boots. It was coming toward her. She whimpered in terror and pressed her back hard against the damp wall. Her eyes were fixed on the crates that kept her hidden from its view. He felt the ground shaking, and then the crates were knocked aside and she was staring directly up at it. She screamed again.
The creature started, as if surprised. She actually saw it jolt. It swiveled its head from left to right, looking around, and then focused back on her. Then, slowly, it leaned over and reached out the non-drill hand toward her.
Joan's breath came shallow as she stared up at it. Suddenly, she was drowning in memories. She had been here before, crouched and frightened, and this thing had come as it came now, to reach for her. And, like before, she found herself taking his hand and letting him draw her to her feet. For a long time, she just stood there. Then, tentatively, her hands reached out and began to dance softly over the contours of that enormous diving helmet. The creature not only permitted this, but seemed almost overjoyed for it to be occurring. "I know you," Joan whispered. "I do. I…remember. You were with me, down here. When I was walking…." Another flash. "When I was harvesting ADAM from the dead. You were with me."
The thing gave a low, keening sound. Joan's breath caught. "Oh, God," she whimpered. "Thank you. Thank you, Mr. Bubbles…" And she threw her arms around the thing's great neck. "You saved my life," she sobbed.
With both tenderness and a sort of dutiful professionalism, the Big Daddy picked her up. He tried to tuck her neatly into the crook of his arm but she had grown quite a bit, and the effort was made somewhat awkward. She found herself chuckling bleakly as the poor thing shifted her this way and that, and finally settled on just using both arms. Her hands hooked into the grating of his helmet and held tight. For a moment, Joany simply savored the feeling of reliving the only comforting memory she had of this place. However, she soon collected herself and peered up at him. "Mr. B, we need to go back to the bathysphere station. I need to radio the surface so they can come get us."
Without a sound, the Big Daddy wheeled about-face and started in the direction of the dock. Joan kept hold of him, trying to figure out how she'd warn her mother and Jack that Henri's men were dangerous. Suddenly, she gasped. "Oh, no."
The Big Daddy stopped, and Joany stared at the place where Henri had been flung. A place that was now empty. "He's alive," she breathed. "Oh, God." Her face peered frantically into the creature's helmet. "We have to get to the dock. Fast!"
