Booker Dewitt sighed as he walked through the busy streets of Columbia, aware of how out of place he appeared amongst the others. He stepped out into the open sun, feeling a cool breeze as-
"Telegram, Mister Dewitt!"
Booker's train of thought derailed as he looked around, searching for who had spoken.
"Down here, sir!"
Booker looked down to see a boy no older than ten, a cap on his head and a bag strapped around his shoulder.
The boy held out a piece of paper with one hand, brandishing it proudly as if it were a report card with all A's.
"Telegram for you, sir!"
Booker took the paper gingerly, watching as the messenger boy scampered off to talk to a nearby vendor who was selling ice cream.
Looking around, he read the message, noting the words COLUMBIA TELEGRAM CO. emblazoned on the top:
[COLUMBIA TELEGRAM CO.]
[ Dewitt STOP
Do not alert Comstock to
your presence STOP
What ever you do, do not
pick #77 STOP
Lutece ]
Raising his eyebrow slightly, Booker pocketed the telegram and continued on.
A giant statue of a young woman in the distance, shrouded by clouds and small pockets of floating buildings.
Ferry-ships and small zeppelins darting back and forth between the islands, carrying passengers and cargo to each destination.
Breifly scanning his area, Booker noted a pair of binoculars attached to a nearby railing. Passing a man smoking on a bench, he reached the binoculars and looked through.
He took a minute to take it all in, the vastness of Columbia. Booker could have sworn he even saw a giant eagle, flying through the white obscuring most of the statue-tower.
Booker angled the binoculars downward towards the promenade, only to pause as he took in a strange sight.
What seemed to be the very same people who had rowed him to the lighthouse that had taken him to Columbia were there, the man juggling with a set of balls while the woman stood with her arms folded, seemingly waiting for something.
As Booker watched, a third man, dressed in a suit and tie and carrying a briefcase, slowly approached their position from seemingly out of nowhere.
The suited man conversed with the pair for a while before, quite suddenly, turning his head to face Booker.
Electric blue eyes met green, and the man smirked, adjusting his tie.
The man turned back, and the three began to leave.
"Wait!"
With a speed Booker did not know he possessed, he pushed the binoculars aside and jumped over the railing, landing on the floor below where he had seen the three mysterious people in conversation.
Only a railing and a poster greeted him. A drunk man sat against a wall, several nondescript bottles beside him.
The group of three had vanished, into thin air.
Booker stared for a moment, contemplating what had just happened.
Bring us the girl and wipe away the debt.
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Booker turned and left, in the direction of the fair. After all, there were more important things to do.
Authors Note - Well, you asked for it.