SEEING RED, chap. 3
Another recording device, another beginning with me incapacitated. Sometimes I stop to wonder just how many times I've been held captive by tin man.
This time he's at least had some class. He'd left me with an old friend, point septic tank. And it didn't take much imagination to figure out how he got me there. I hate rapture's plumbing. If a seventeen year old can fit in the hole, then you know you've got bigger problems than your freedom, like laxative addiction.
Plumbing advice aside, I had to get out of there. First order of business: Figure out which way was up. As I could still hear the not so light snoring of our leather headed friend upstairs resonating down the piping, I couldn't have fallen far. The hardest part would be climbing up the drain without waking sleeping beauty up there. Then again, maybe I could bring him down to me.
Carefully, I injected myself with some EVE, lighting my hand ablaze with the beautiful fires of the incinerate plasmid. I'd always had a soft spot for incinerate, seeing as it could also be used to cook food. If you've ever spent a week eating nothing but cold beans from a can, then you no doubt understand the value of this trait. All I had to do was melt the cheap plastic of the toilet (seriously Andrew, you spend millions to completely ruin my genetic material, and yet you have budget cuts on TOILETS) and the hole should widen enough for him to fall in. The lesson in all of this is, never fall asleep on the toilet you shoved an angry teenager down.
Sadly, nothing works exactly as planned when you're in rapture, and he woke up halfway down the widened piping. It was with no small amount of satisfaction that I knocked the back of his helmet against the concrete wall, knocking him out cold.
Any other big sister would have harvested his ADAM immediately, but luckily for him, I was curious just how much he really was capable of thinking. Who knows, maybe he could be an asset to the family after all. After all, Lamb had been wrong before ("transformation is a glorious process and won't hurt a bit!" Yeah right, and Andrew Ryan plays golf in his free time).
I tied my little tin soldier down to the metal grating of the drain. I also gave him a piece of metal in front of him that he could draw and write on, or just completely ignore.
There were many things that I thought he might write, such as nothing, but what he did write was the one word that took me completely by surprise.
Eleanor.
/
Author's notes:
Well, now that I figured out that that little orange button next to the title of my story actually did something, and after checking my email, I was astounded at just how many people followed this story. Thanks again to madlink007 for spurring me on to continue writing, and Disciple of Ember for the long review. I'm not sure if the pun was a reference to the underwater measurement "leagues" or something else entirely. The starting point of the story was when Delta first heads out of an airlock, and so as it stands now he is in a bathroom in the area after that airlock. I was going to make it so they both visit Tenenbaum together, but that's all the long term planning I have as of now. Thanks to everyone else who added this to their favorites and followed this story.