CHAPTER SUMMARY
Mark Meltzer finally gets to meet Augustus Sinclair. Eleanor Lamb has a few things to say. Delta probably wishes she'd choose a different way to say them.

CONTENT WARNINGS
None

From Uprising Part VI: Those Without Faces

A NEW THING

The engine still dripped, stinking of sea and weathered steel. Its face shone with condensation, and steam straggled beneath its pointed snout.

Sinclair stepped out of the darkness. The first thing that struck Meltzer was that he was absurdly clean. His dress shirt was almost perfectly white but for some discoloration around the throat and armpits; it had clearly been ironed, as had the slacks. No patches, the stains few, and the man was smoking in a cigarette holder. The hair was black, slicked back, streaked with silver at the temples, and reading glasses hung 'round his throat. A pistol was tucked under his arms; ammo pouches hung on his belt. But for the pistol and pouches, he could have stepped straight out of a meeting.

"Meltzer! Chief!" Sinclair grinned at them, waving. "About time we met, eh?"

Meltzer sagged with relief. "Oh, thank god."

Beside him, Delta scraped to a halt. At first, Meltzer thought nothing of it. Then Sinclair's smile fell. A weird light illuminated his face.

"So there you are, Sinclair," a young woman said.

Meltzer halted.

"Do you remember Sinclair, Father?" the young woman asked. Her voice was weirdly monotone, a British accent, and seemed to rise up out of the air around them—not loud, just omnipresent.

Meltzer whirled.

Delta swayed behind him, the light in his helmet weirdly dull and coppery. A corona shivered like a living fog around his helmet, gold and glittering.

The girl's voice drove on.

"Do you know why he wants to leave, Father?"

Sinclair raised his hands in supplication. "Now hold on there, Eleanor. You know it was nothing personal."

"Yes," Eleanor whispered.

She wasn't talking to them. Delta had turned toward Sinclair. Steam puffed up from his sleeves. He raised his drill and pointed.

"HOOO," he said.

Meltzer flung himself in front of Delta, arms out.

"Whoah there!" he said. "Whoah there, Delta."

Sinclair backed away, whipping out his pistol. He'd made it halfway to the train when Delta's porthole flashed—the corona flashed a fraction of a second later—and Sinclair jerked—a full-body twitch—and toppled over backwards with a nasty thud.

"Sinclair!" Meltzer rushed to Sinclair's side.

Delta grumbled and lifted to his full height, shaking out his arms. The corona dissipated, leaving only the faintest bubble of gold.

"Are you all right?" Meltzer panted, lifting Sinclair to a seated position.

Sinclair sucked for breath; his eyes were huge. He said nothing. He clawed himself upright using Meltzer's arm and shoulder, whipping his eyes up to Delta.

"Subject Delta," said Sinclair, leaning on Meltzer. "I've tried to put you out of my head for 14 goddamn years. Now you'd better stay out or I will absolutely refuse to take you to the promised land, you understand?"

"Pardon me?" Meltzer asked.

"It's a long story," said Sinclair. "And unnecessary. Look, Delta." Sinclair stepped away from Meltzer, eyes dark. "You will not harm me or this deal is off. That includes going inside my head without permission. Do you understand?"

Delta swayed. The light in his helmet glowed a little brighter; the corona faded a little.

"Father and I are a new thing," said Eleanor, her voice faint. She sounded resigned, faded. "He draws on me. I draw on him. We can't control it yet." Her voice grew frigid. "Maybe we could if someone hadn't broken him."

Sinclair threw his hands up. "Look, honey, it wasn't anything personal. All I did was pay the bills."

"Liar," Eleanor said, grim but triumphant. "Do you know who you're traveling with, Mark Meltzer?"

"I don't know that I have a choice," Meltzer said. His right hand twitched as though to grab his pistol, but he released his hand and dropped it at his side. "All I care about is getting Cindy out of this place."

"Who is Cindy?" she asked.

"My daughter," he said softly. "Blonde hair. Has my eyes and nose. Her mother's ears and cheeks. Eight years old now."

"Oh," said the girl. "I know her."

His mouth fell open. "You… where is she?"

"You can't have her," said the girl matter-of-factly. "She's making ADAM."

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Meltzer launched at Delta and lurched up on his tip-toes. "She's my daughter! She's my baby! My everything! You can't have her! Where is she? Tell me!"

He slammed his pointing finger up on Delta's gut. His voice broke.

No one replied. Delta slowly turned to regard him. The corona brightened briefly. Something must have been happening, but it was all internal; Delta swayed on his feet and purred, wrists twitching. Steam rolled up from the suit in curling waves. Meltzer could feel something stirring deep beneath the leather.

Then the heat and corona faded. All that was left was Delta's burning viewplate, a weird greenish-gold that itself burnt into yellow.

Delta shouldered his rivet gun and marched into the train car. He stepped up on the stairs and the whole car leaned down toward him with a groan. He leaned in sideways, squatted, slipped inside. The door slid shut. A heavy groan, and the car slowly rocked upright.

A hand fell on Meltzer's shoulder. Meltzer jumped.

It was Sinclair.

"Son," Sinclair said in a thick voice, "you are a brave man, but I must recommend you don't go charging Big Daddies." He patted his shoulder, eyes rising to the car. "Let's go to the engine. Nothing we do will be private now, but we can hope Eleanor will keep herself caged."

"You've got to explain yourself," Meltzer said as Sinclair ambled away.

"Oh, I will, just not here," said Sinclair. "Come on. All of this is complicated."

NOTES

The story of BioShock 2 is such a nothingburger that I needed (read: desperately wanted) to insert more drama into it. Moreover, since many of its elements are wrapped up in gameplay, and thus make for terrible fucking literature, new elements needed to be developed by default. Thus, this was an exploratory piece.

There were several elements that needed to be inserted in various methods, and you can see several of them in action here:

*Does Augustus Sinclair know who Subject Delta is? If so, why does he hide his knowledge, and what might lead him to reveal himself? If not, when does he discover it?

*Eleanor Lamb is too goddamn Okay. I need one of the most fucked up people imaginable. How might that look? Can I do this while keeping true to some of the ultimate goals of the BioShock 2 story?

*What is Mark Meltzer going to do once he figures out that Augustus Sinclair is a war criminal? I mean a cock?

Anyway, every time I read this piece-usually by accident-I just go UMPH that do hit good