Disclaimer - I own no rights to the Bioshock universe. Though I'd love to own my own little slice of Rapture.
A/N – I decided to do one more small chapter before diving back into my other writing project. Hope you like it.
Kratos-god-slayer-101 – Things are starting to heat up, indeed! Keep reading.
"The fastest way to Port Neptune's gonna be through that bathysphere," Atlas said. "But ya might not all be able to make it in one trip. Gonna be a pretty tight squeeze for nine people."
"There's no way we're splittin' up," Evelyn said into the radio. "Not when you could be leadin' us straight int' a trap."
"Suit yourself, t'en. But it's not gonna be t'e most comfortable ride."
The golden orb was floating beneath the "Metro Station" sign. Twitch was the first to jump in.
Jack followed as the others poured into the bathysphere, trying to find room on the red vinyl seats. When Jack climbed in, only standing room in the center of the sphere remained.
Evelyn was the last in. She shared the center with Jack, her body forced against his.
"Sorry," Jack said, embarrassed.
"Don't be," Evelyn replied, breathing gently in his face. "Like he said, it's gonna be a squeeze."
"Everyone cozy?" Atlas said. "Then would you kindly press the button for Neptune's Bounty on the control panel?"
Jack obliged, and the bathysphere lurched, shaking its inhabitants. The rumbling pushed Jack and Evelyn even closer together, caused their chests to rub against each other's.
Jack tried to concentrate on the viewing panel, watching Rapture's skyline as the bathysphere made its way to its destination, passing through a ring and into a winding tunnel.
The bathysphere lurched to a stop at the next Metro Station. This time, Jack and Evelyn tried not to make eye contact. He studied the ceiling of the sphere while she brushed her bangs out of her enormous blue eyes.
They were jostled by elbows and shoved around the sphere as the others pushed their way out, eager to have room to breathe and their feet on solid ground. Jack and Evelyn were the last to hop out.
Giuseppe stood at the gate at the end of the station.
"Knock, knock."
He bent down and grabbed the bottom of the gate, decorated with an etching of waves and fish. The he threw the gate open.
"You've arrived at Neptune's Bounty," Atlas said.
Jack turned and noted the security camera, with its green light, suspended from the ceiling above the bathysphere, aimed at the band of survivors he had joined up with.
He was astonished as he stepped through the gate. He could still see the ocean beyond the glass walls around him, and he could still watch the fish swimming by.
But he was also looking at water inside the dome. What he was seeing looked like a typical seaside fishing resort. The air smelled like salt water and sea food. And a series of wooden docks rose above what looked like the sea.
"There's a system that allows water to drain from the ocean into the wharfs," Langford explained. "But it regulates the water level so the docks don't flood. You're looking at Rapture's main source of food."
Across the water, Jack could see two Splicers hauling an empty fishing net out of the water and throwing it back in again. Another Splicer kept casting his fishing line in, only to immediately reel it up again.
"They look occupied," Atlas said. "I'd try not to disturb 'em if I were you."
Jack reached for Evelyn's revolver at his hip. Its grip felt reassuring in his hand. Evelyn took her place at the head of the group and crept slowly onto the docks. The wood creaked loudly under her feet.
The Splicers looked up for a second, and then went back to their fishing.
"There's caves at t'e other end of Fontaine's Fisheries," Atlas said. "Those would be the smuggler's coves where y'll find all t'e weapons you'll need."
The group marched down the docks and turned towards a gate below a giant neon fish, glowing letters advertising the fisheries. Giuseppe lifted the gate.
The smell of rotting fish was overpowering here.
"Frank Fontaine used this place as a legal front for his smugglin' operation," Atlas said. "Used to make a good livin' bringin' contraband from the surface an' sellin' it on the black market. Up until Rapture Security took 'im down.
"Which reminds me, try an' stay clear of Sullivan, Ryan's faithful Doberman. That's the biggest problem wi' this pile o' scrapheap we used t' call a city. The bloody king of Rapture'll let any sociopathic murderer kill wi' immunity if they strike his fancy. You've already dealt with Steinman, Ryan's favorite medical whiz. He's a level-headed individual compared to Security Chief Sullivan and Sander Cohen, the poet laureate. An' neither of 'em hold a candle to Li'l Miss Doctor Frankenstein."
"Frankenstein?"
"That's my pet name for Dr. Tennenbaum, Ryan's favorite geneticist," Atlas continued. "It's her's what responsible for takin' Rapture's daughters and makin' 'em int' Li'l Sisters."
"Oh, our boy Jackie's taken a likin' to the Li'l Sisters already," Evelyn said. "Let the girl go, but still managed to put us all on a Daddy's bad side in the process."
"Don't give 'im a hard time, love. He's just come from the surface. Can't possibly know Rapture the way we do. Boyo, I know it must seem strange t' you, bein' told murderin' a li'l girl's the right thing t' do, but those girls are dead already. They've been stripped of wha'ever makes 'em human. Now there's nothin' more 'an walkin' incubators for Rapture's most precious resource. Next time ya get the chance, remember it's you or them."
They pushed through double doors and found themselves in a room filled with boxes. Jack looked with interest at the contents: copies of the Bible, the Torah, and the Qur'an; crucifixes and rosary beads; menorahs.
"So, this is what security here got so upset about?"
"Religious practices are expressly forbidden in Rapture," Langford said. "'No gods or kings', remember?"
"It's just like Ryan," Atlas said. "Freedom to do whatever you want, as long as you believe the exac' same thing as he does."
"I think this stuff's for suckers, anyway," Lucky said, letting one of the leather volumes fall from his fingers back into one of the boxes.
"He sees us!" someone shouted.
Jack turned towards the scream and approached the glass panel of a small office. A Splicer was seated on the floor inside, rocking back and forth, a Bible clutched in his hand.
"He sees us, even down here, at the bottom of the ocean," he muttered. "I thought at the bottom of the ocean I'd be able to get away from Him, but He sees me even here."
Then the Splicer jumped to its feet and charged into the glass. Jack stepped back. The Splicer continued to beat its head against the glass, and Jack noticed dents and blood stains on the window, apparently from where the Splicer had done this before. It made him wonder how much of the Splicer's deformed face was the result of too many plasmids and Dr. Steinman's scalpel, and how much was self-inflicted by ramming into the glass.
"You can't get away from Him, no matter where you go," the Splicer cried. "You can't hide from Him. No matter where you are, below the waves or above the crowd, every man must face the consequences of his sin. Each man must deal with consequences of the choices he makes. Forever!"
He pounded on the glass a few more times, then sat back on the ground, rocking again.
"Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me . . ."
Then he began to weep.
"I don' understan' it," Atlas said. "We all bought our tickets to Rapture. We all knew what Ryan's vision was. But you're not here t' muse on philosophy. You're here 'cause you're playin' a hard game, and ya need an Ace in the hole. The caves are just ahead. I'll tell ya where ya can find that weapon stash I was talkin' about."
Andrew Ryan looked across his desk in his office at Hephaestus at the two men seated uncomfortably before him. He sipped his scotch and soda on the rocks while McDonagh tugged on his glass of Old Harbinger Beer, his own personal brew, while Sullivan, never the kind to drink on duty, sipped off a bottle of Hop-up Cola.
"We almost got 'im, Andrew," Sullivan said. "An anonymous tip. We'll be there when he and his boys are gettin' off their sub with their next shipment of smuggled goods."
"The problems not catchin' 'im anymore, Mr. Ryan," McDonagh said. "The problem's what we're gonna do after."
"What do you mean, Bill?"
"Fontaine Fisheries, Fontaine Futuristics . . . They're more than just fronts for smuggling, sir. There some of the biggest businesses goin' in Rapture right now. And plenty of innocent people have small fortunes tied up in them."
"We're not trying to hurt innocent people, McDonagh," Sullivan protested. "But we obviously can't just let him keep using his business for an operation that undermines everything Rapture stands for. And we can't trust anyone he ever associated with running the businesses honestly."
"But we can't just run the businesses ourselves, either. If Ryan Industries takes over Fontaine Futuristics, you'll have a monopoly, sir. Which I'm sure is just as much a slap on the face to everything you intended Rapture to be."
"It's only temporary," Sullivan insisted. "Just long enough to poke around Fontaine's interests, see what's what."
"I shee no choiche in the matter," Ryan said. "Once Fontaine ish out of the picturre, we'll ashume control of hish holdingsh. We'll divide the businessh approprriately later, all in good time."
He finished his drink and reached in his desk for his bottle of Lacan Scotch.
"That'sh good, Sullivan. Get back to worrk now. Keep me updated."
Sullivan nodded and left the room as Ryan poured more of the scotch into his glass.
"Anything on yourr mind, Bill?"
"Honestly?"
Ryan nodded.
"I'm just hoping you know what you're doin', Mr. Ryan," McDonagh said. "We serve on the council 'cause these poor souls put their faith in us, not because of some divine right."
Evelyn finished entering the four-digit combination Atlas gave her and opened the secret door in the corner of the damp cave.
The room was filled with machine guns, shotguns, pistols, grenades, and almost every other type of weapon and ammunition available.
Evelyn grabbed a Tommy gun, which she slung over her shoulder.
"You can keep the revolver, now, Jack."
Pancho seemed especially excited. He ran a finger loving across a grenade launcher before picking up a flame thrower.
"Oldie-toy, a newie-toy, heh?"
Twitch posed like a cowboy, a revolver in each hand, until Teagan pushed his hands down.
"Drop those before ya shoot someone's eye out."
"There's my show o' good faith," Atlas said. "Now I need you to fulfill your half o' the bargain. Me family's in a grotto nearby, hiding in a mini-submarine. Once you get them out, I'll tell ya how to get out o' Rapture."
Jack grabbed a shotgun and a box of shells labeled "Electric" and followed the others, all now bearing new weapons, out of the munitions cache and deeper into the cave. At the end of their trail, they could look down a steep slope at a pool of water, a tiny submarine bobbing in it.
"Wait here," Evelyn instructed Jack. "We need ya to stand lookout. Give us a holler if ya see anyone comin'."
Jack wanted to argue, but Evelyn was already scaling down the slope, the rest of her troop sliding down behind her.
Once Twitch, the last one down, had reached the bottom of the slope, a glass panel slid down in front of Jack. From his vantage point, he could see Splicers emerging from the tunnels on the other side of the submarine.
"Hey!" he shouted, jumping and waving his arms. "Hey!"
But no one turned and looked in his direction. The glass panel was apparently enough to muffle the sound of his voice to the point that those at the bottom of the ravine couldn't hear it. And when Jack began banging the glass with his fists, it showed no indication of cracking. He remembered the battered Splicer in the office in Fontaine's Fisheries.
He turned around and found a crevice in the cave floor. He had no idea where it would lead, or even if it would lead anywhere, but he couldn't see any other choice. He had to find an alternate route to the grotto as quickly as possible.
A/N – Had planned on covering a little more ground in this chapter, but this is as good of a cliffhanger (in both the figurative and literal sense) as any to leave off on until next time. Don't know when I'll be writing the next chapter for sure, but I plan on getting to it sometime in May.