Same disclaimer as before. Thanks to Ser Serendipity for being both my first positive review and my first review period!
Chapter 4: The Best Laid Schemes
Booker shifted on the ground so he was facing more towards Elizabeth than Silas.
"Okay," he said, huddling closer, "Every world that exists in any reality is born from another world. Any decision ever made results in infinite universes branching off of that world, leading to infinite possible parallel worlds, leading to infinite planes of reality."
Elizabeth cocked an eyebrow. "So?"
"So what happens in one world inevitably effects what happens in all the worlds branching off of it." Booker hesitated, "Do you remember killing me for the first time?" Elizabeth cringed slightly. She had killed hundreds of versions of her father without pity or remorse; he had deserved it after all. But now she had him here, staring intently into her eyes, as if daring her to say no. It made her feel naked and vulnerable. Booker grinned, obviously enjoying how uncomfortable he had made her.
Elizabeth cleared her throat. "Yes, I remember."
Booker's grin, if possible widened. "In another world, you couldn't do it." He said under his breath, "You broke down and hugged me instead. In another world, you fought with the alternate versions of yourself. In another, you killed yourself instead. The possibilities were endless and they all exist in infinite worlds. But what if you had never taken me back to the river? What if you had just gone with me to Paris like I asked you?"
Elizabeth hesitated for a moment. Suddenly, the penny dropped and she realized the truth. "It would take the choice out of my hands," she whispered, "We would never be at the river and I wouldn't be able to kill you." Booker nodded as he leaned backwards, satisfied that Elizabeth knew what he was talking about. There was a moment of silence between them before Elizabeth motioned for Booker to continue.
He stared at her incredulously. "Are you serious?" he said, "Isn't it obvious?" Elizabeth folded her arms and glared at him. Booker turned to Silas, "Can you believe this?" He muttered, "You know what I'm talking about, right Si?"
Silas had his jaw on the rock ground. His eyes were as wide as silver eagles and twice as bright. He was slowly tuning his head back and forth between Elizabeth and Booker. "What," he said slowly, "Are you two talking about?"
Booker rolled his eyes and turned back to Elizabeth, clearly annoyed that his point wasn't quite getting across. "If every decision made is influenced by the world it was born from, than how far back can you go?"
Elizabeth groaned in frustration and drew her pistol from the folds of her skirt. For the second time in an hour, Elizabeth put the barrel of her gun between Booker's eyes. "Spit. It. Out." She said through grit teeth.
Booker lost his grin and put his hands up in surrender. "Apparently you're forgetting what happened last time you shot me, but time isn't on our side." He shifted until he was on his knees. "There has to be an origin point, a place where reality began. No matter what you believe, there has to be a specific world where all of existence started. Now, imagine every universe as part of a giant tree." Booker quickly drew a rough tree in the rocky dirt with his finger. "The first world would be the root," he said pointing to the bottom of his tree, "So, if preventing a choice in one world can keep infinite worlds from springing up as a result, what happens if you prevent a choice in the first world that ever existed, the world that gave birth to all other worlds?" It clicked. Elizabeth gasped as she stared down at the tree in the dirt. Her gun hand dropped to her side and the pistol fell out of her hand. It was so simple, yet so complex.
"If we can kill Comstock in the first world…" she said, unable to fully process what she had just learned.
Booker smiled gently and picked up her gun. He held it by the barrel and held it out to her. "Then we can keep Comstock from ever existing in any world. He literally will never have existed." Elizabeth took her gun back with shaking hands, eyes still transfixed on the tree.
Silas threw up his hands. "What is going on?" he hissed angrily.
Booker stood up and brushed himself off. He swept his foot over his tree, pulling Elizabeth out of her daze. Booker stretched out both his hands to help Elizabeth and Silas to their feet. Elizabeth was weeping quietly. Finally, after ten years, this was the answer. She could finally kill Comstock once and for all. "No time to explain, Silas my man." Said Booker, "In fact, we need to go," he hesitated and closed his eyes.
There was a sudden scream from the rear of the camp. Elizabeth and Silas turned and the crowd parted, quickly running away in terror from the hut where Elizabeth had met with the former Little Sisters. One of them, Susie if she remembered correctly, had stumbled out of the hut, her hand around her throat. It was bleeding profusely as she struggled to breathe or speak. The people began to panic, grabbing young children and heading for the path out of the stalagmite forest. Silas jumped up and drew a serrated knife from his wrappings as Elizabeth got to her feet and held her gun at the ready. Booker's eyes snapped open and he smiled, drawing what looked like a brand new Paddywhacker gun from his messenger bag. "Now." He murmured, spinning around.
Silas leapt forward. "Aunt Susie!" he cried. He had barely taken a few steps when the hut exploded. The sandstone flew outwards and as Elizabeth and Booker ducked, the fire spread to the thatched roof of the next hut over. Silas slid under the flying sandstone and rolled to a crouch next to his dying aunt. From the fires of what was once the hut, a shadow slowly stood up. It was tall and muscular, an imposing figure that seemed totally unaffected by the fires around it. Booker raised his gun and began firing off shots. The shade dodged behind some remains of the hut for cover.
Elizabeth aimed her weapon and was about to fire when she felt a rumbling beneath her feet. She looked down just in time to see a massive drill emerge from the ground. She stumbled backwards, just barely missing the deadly tool as it speared into the air she had just occupied. The drill retracted briefly as Elizabeth shuffled backwards in horror. From the hole emerged a massive, metal dome followed by a familiar mechanical body.
Elizabeth tripped backwards, falling to the ground as she scrambled away from the emerging figure. "Holy Crap!" she screamed, "Is that a Big Daddy?" The massive beast gave a mechanical roar in response as it leveled its drill at Booker. With a bang, the drill shot forward. Booker dodged to the left and turned his gun to the Big Daddy. As the drill retracted on its cable, Booker shot the remainder of his magazine at the giant cyborg. The bullets left nicks and dings, but none penetrated the Daddy's thick armor.
"Shit," Booker swore. He tossed his empty gun away as the Daddy stalked towards him.
Silas dove forward towards the hut and slashed his knife at the shadowy figure. "Everyone get to the wall!" He shouted to the last remnants of the encampment, struggling to fit themselves through the tight passage, "Get free or die trying!" The Big Daddy turned from Booker and saw the assassin engaging with Silas. With a screech, it spun around and charged to the assassin's defense. Silas felt rather than saw the beast rumbling towards him and he strafed backwards to dodge the onslaught. As the Big Daddy missed its target, the assassin leapt forward and wrapped its arms around the Big Daddy's head, latching onto the steel bars of it's helm. As one, the Big Daddy and assassin turned their attention back to Booker, who was now scrambling in his messenger bag for spare ammo. With a combined cry of human fury and metal rage, the Big Daddy ran forwards at speeds that would shame a train. Booker barely had time to look up before they were almost upon him.
"No!" A wave of fire erupted between the Big Daddy and Booker. The beast screeched to a halt, its rider just inches from the flame. The assassin turned to face this new threat; a thin young woman in a dirty white blouse and a ripped blue skirt. Elizabeth tossed a used EVE cartage into the lava pool, her face fixed in a determined glare at the assassin. One hand held her pistol while the other was covered in flame. "Why don't you play with me." She growled.
Elizabeth had known Silas's aunts for all of two minutes, but they seemed like nice enough people. They had kept this secret camp safe for a few decades at least. They hadn't deserved to die, but for whatever reason, this shade of a killer and a rogue Big Daddy had ended all of them and demolished the camp. Now, they were attempting to kill the first source of hope for normalcy that Elizabeth had met in ten years. Not a chance in hell, not if she could help it.
She waited for the assassin to make the first move, but neither the figure nor the Big Daddy moved. Silas ran to Elizabeth's side and raised his knife in a defensive position. "Got a spare?" he whispered to her. She shot a glance at him and saw his face was covered in soot from the fire of the hut. The black dust was slowly being wiped away by his tears. She shook her head and Silas grit his teeth. "So, that's what a plasmid does, huh?" he muttered, "Never saw one before." The assassin lowered its head and patted the Big Daddy's domed helmet. The Daddy straightened up as the assassin jumped down from its perch. Calmly, the assassin placed its hands together and slowly pulled them apart.
Elizabeth gasped in surprise as a tear opened in front of the assassin. "Impossible!" screamed Booker from beyond the fire.
The assassin turned to him and raised its finger to point accusingly. "This isn't over," the assassin called in a distinctly female voice, "Not even close." With that, the Big Daddy grabbed the woman and jumped through the tear, closing it as they passed into a different world.
Elizabeth's jaw dropped and Silas dropped his knife to his side. The fire wall protecting Booker burned away, revealing a very nervous and confused looking DeWitt. For a few moments, nobody moved or spoke.
Finally, Silas broke the silence. "I have some serious questions to ask."
Booker shook his head, stirring himself from his fears. "Not now. We need to get to safety, outside the quarantine zone." Booker put his gun back in his messenger bag and ran towards the path. Elizabeth and Silas followed him, both very confused as to what had just happened.
It looked as if everyone had made it through the pathway safely, despite the fact that the stalagmite that hid the camp had been blown away. Once they emerged into the streets, however, they saw several corpses dragging and cannibalizing the fresh cadavers of campers. Silas threw his knife with expert accuracy at one of them. The knife plunged through the corpse's skull and it slumped over the pale boy it was eating. "Nobody eats Cousin Matt." He said angrily as he continued after Elizabeth and Booker.
It had taken a while for Elizabeth and Silas to get to the camp, but they had been sneaking past corpses. There was no need for such subtly now as they ran down the main street, leading them directly towards the wall
"I thought you were the only one who could open tears in this world!" shouted Elizabeth as they ran towards the wall.
"Later!" replied Booker as he punched the head off of a fragile corpse that charged him. Elizabeth was going to retort, but a loud siren cut off her train of thought.
"The alarm!" cried Silas, "They've broken through the wall!" Indeed, they could see the wall in the distance, smoking and on fire with a massive hole in the center. As they got closer, they saw the remaining campers engaged in a fierce fist-fight battle with dozens of stocky men with white military uniforms and hoods.
"We'll never make it through!" Elizabeth declared as they stopped running.
Booker panted and pointed down the street to their left. "I wouldn't say that." A host of corpses were half-running, half- shuffling towards the scent of fresh blood and the sounds of combat.
Silas jumped forward. "They'll kill everyone!" he gasped.
Booker shoved his hand into his bag. "No, they won't." He withdrew a small vial of brown liquid. He uncorked it and drained the entire vial in on gulp. He shuddered as his taste buds burned in agony. "God, stuff tastes like chicken shit."
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "What was that? I've never seen a vigor like that before."
"It's called Darwin." Replied Booker. He raised his hands towards the approaching force of corpses, "As long as something's got an artificial evolution aid in it, I can control it. I'll keep them away from the campers." He twisted his wrists like a conductor just as the first wave of corpses hit the ensuing battle.
They were like locusts. Faster than the naked eye could follow, every guard was suddenly dealing with a half-dozen corpses apiece, and each one wanted a piece of them. The campers were surprised that the corpses weren't targeting them, but, seemingly as one, they decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth and ran beyond the wall, into the rest of the city.
Booker grinned as he ran forward. Elizabeth and Silas exchanged a look before they followed him. They ran through the hole in the wall, copying Booker's movements through the empty city. The siren must have been an instruction for the people of the city to find shelter because the streets were deserted, with sales wagons tipped over and children's toys left abandoned on the curbs. "Here!" said Booker, "I've got a safe house." He stopped at an inconspicuous little brownstone building. The odd trio quickly sauntered up the steps as Booker drew a key ring from his bag. Without even looking, he flipped the correct key into the lock and turned. The door opened and Elizabeth and Silas were ushered inside.
It was dusty and dark inside. The entire first floor was open and devoid of furniture with stairs leading to the second floor on the far wall. For a full minute, the group panted and caught their breath. When he was ready, Silas swiveled angrily on the others, fully prepared to unleash his furious wrath. Instead, he broke down crying and fell to his knees. Booker and Elizabeth leaned down next to him as he sobbed wordlessly. "Lizzy," Booker said softly, "There's a couple of bedrooms upstairs. Why don't you get some rest, hmm?" Elizabeth nodded. From the second she had met this Booker at the diner in Rapture, she had felt the need for a break, if only to wrap her head around the situation. And things had only gotten more complex and confusing since then.
"You owe me a lot of answers, Mr. DeWitt." Immediately, the name felt wrong in her mouth. It was what she had always called alternate versions of her father, but she had never met one so young before. Formality did not suit him.
"Call me Booker," he said as he rubbed the mourning Silas's back, "You always have. I'll answer your questions after you rest. We all need it."
Elizabeth stood. "I thought you said we didn't have much time?"
"Would you just shut up and go to bed already?"
Elizabeth scowled. "Fine, but I want my answers." She turned and marched to the stairs. She began to mount them but stopped. "One more thing. If you call me Lizzy again, I'll kill you in your sleep."
Booker shrugged. "Fair enough. Do you prefer Eliza? Or maybe Beth? How about Lizbeth?"
Elizabeth fought the urge to draw her gun again. "Just Elizabeth will do." She said as curtly as she could manage given the circumstances. Booker smirked and went back to comforting Silas. Elizabeth went upstairs. She found herself a bed room with a twin sized bed in it. The bed had rusty, squeaky springs, but that didn't matter. She collapsed on it and felt every muscle in her body loosen, like she had just exhaled all the stress of the last three hours. After half a breath, she had entered the deepest sleep of her life.