Elizabeth XIX

"It wasn't your fault," Booker said. "Not yours or the kid. There's nothing either of you could have done for Langford."

Elizabeth's frown deepened as her screwdriver slid out of place as she tried to get the last screw of the panel door out. A little to her left, Jack was still wailing on the glass window with his wrench to no avail.

"Elizabeth?" Booker coaxed.

"It doesn't feel that way," she whispered back. "If I had been faster, if we got here sooner, maybe…"

Booker shook his head. "Andrew Ryan could have killed Langford at any time. He only did it now so you and Jack could see it. He wanted to hurt all of you. He wanted to kill her right when she dared hope she could fix everything, and he wanted to punish the two of you for almost succeeding. You know that, right?"

Of course, Liz knew it. She had to know it; otherwise, the ghostly manifestation of her subconscious in the form of her dead father wouldn't be able to say it to her. That didn't mean she was ready to face up to it though.

"I want to hear you say it, sweetheart. For my own sake."

The thing about Booker's voice was that it had a natural roughness to it, undoubtedly brought upon by years of smoking and drinking. So when he let it go soft and gentle like this, it sounded off. Not bad or frightening, just off, like an ill-fitting pair of gloves.

That didn't mean that Elizabeth didn't like the sound of it.

"It wasn't our fault," she said, apparently loud enough for Jack to hear over the WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! of his wrench on the seemingly unbreakable glass.

"Huh?" he asked, gasping for breath at the exertion. Then immediately broke down into a fit of coughs as he inhaled the lingering poison in the air. " We got to get out of here."

"Good. now that you understand that, push it out of your head and work the problem. You're just one screw away from saving so much, baby girl," Booker said.

"Liz, are you listening to me?" Jack asked.

Elizabeth was not, in fact, listening to Jack. Instead, she was listening to the version of herself that took the form of Booker. She fought the urge to take a deep breath -with all the toxins swirling around them that would do more harm than good; even with their filtration masks, it was potent stuff- and narrowed her world to a single screw. She put the head of the screwdriver back into place, then twisted once, twice, three times until…

Pop.

The panel slid out of place, revealing a network of wires. With a grin, Liz ignored her vision, which was rapidly growing foggy, and swapped out the screwdriver for a pen knife and severed the appropriate wires. Elizabeth didn't even have time to savor her victory as the door slid open before Jack grabbed her by the upper arm and hauled her through the doorway to get them into relatively fresher air.

Half collapsing against one of the tapes, Jack yanked the filtration mask off his face. "For a while, I thought I was going to die out there."

Liz agreed, not that she wanted to say it out loud. Acknowledging you've come that close to death is… eerie. "We're not out of the woods yet. Look around, hopefully, Langford left notes that we can use to synthesize the Lazarus Vector. We don't have much time."

Any response Jack might have had was cut off by his radio crackling to life as Fontaine's voice came through.

"Every time we get a yard ahead, Ryan goes and moves the goal line down to the other side of the field!"

'I hate agreeing with that bastard,' she thought, shuffling through some papers. finding another recording, she pressed the play button almost absent-mindedly.

"If you are hearing this, then I am already dead. And all likelihood, it was Andrew Ryan who killed me. If I was prone to being fanciful, I would say he killed me the moment he recruited me all those years ago. I won't bore you with my melodramatics, however. Liz, Jack, there is still a way you can save my trees. I foresaw this possibility, to the point I considered it an inevitability. So, like any good scientist, I created a backup plan.

Thankfully, we are all children of the modern age. While I am dubious about the benefits of every technological advancement, I cannot deny the ease of automation. Yo create the Lazarus vector, simply input all the ingredients into the synthetization machine in my lab. Don't worry about measurements, order, or formula, I pre-programmed everything. Make as much as possible, then disperse it.

For that step, you'll need to head to the Central Misting Control. It isn't far away, but I suspect the trip will be dangerous. Don't be surprised if Ryan throws some more obstacles in your way as well. Choose your path carefully, and stay alert. You've survived this far by staying together, I am confident you can survive the rest of Rapture the same way. More than that, you must survive. You have to survive for my trees, yourselves, all those remaining in the city, and my own legacy. I'm not sure if I will be reunited with my beloved Rebecca after I pass, but no matter what the outcome is, I want there to be something good about my legacy that she can know of.

Good luck to you both. I wish I had known the two of you longer. And Jack? Be better than him."

"What do you think she meant by that?" Jack asked. He was crouched down next to Langford's body, going through her pockets. He closed her eyes first though, and for that little bit of humanity, Liz hated what she was about to say.

"No clue, I was more focused on the fact that she gave us an easy way to make the Lazarus Vector. Grab the bag, I want to get this done as soon as possible."

Five minutes later, she and Jack were standing in front of the synthesization machine watching the thick, colorful fluid that was the Lazarus Vector drip into a canister. As she watched it, Elizabeth couldn't help but think it was almost amusing that something so important more resembled colorful corn syrup than a work of impressive science.

"Stay on your toes. Langford was right, Ryan will be watching. He's not going to let you guys finish this easily," Booker whispered into her ear.

"I know that. I know that very well," she replied, eyeing the grates that Ryan had used to kill Langford.

Jack turned to her. "Huh?"

Elizabeth shook her head. "Pack up as much ammo and firearm as you can. Ryan isn't going to let us get this to the misting station easily."

Her companion tapped his shotgun, "Already done."

That should have been the end of it but, for some reason that god only knows, Jack decided now was the time he pressed the question he clearly been holding on to for a while.

"Hey, Elizabeth, why are you always talking to yourself? You pretend you don't, but I've heard you do it more times than I can count by now."

On her other side, Booker chuckled softly. "You can tell him about me, kid. He might not believe you, he might think you're crazy, but I don't mind if he knows. Besides, everyone's gone a little mad down here. Even if he does think you've lost it, I don't think he'll judge you."

Liz shut her eyes, rubbing the heel of her palm across them as forcefully as she could. Telling someone who she needed to trust her that she was undergoing frequent hallucinations of her dead father? No, thank you. No way that would go well.

"It's… how I work out things in my head."

"But it sounds like you're having a conversation with someone."

"Yeah, the person I'm having a conversation with is myself. Talking out a problem, even in my head, is the best way for me to find a solution," she explained, telling herself that it wasn't really a lie. Booker was her subconscious given form, even if it was a form that only she could see. She smiled at Jack. "A little crazy, huh?"

He smiled back at her, traces of blood staining a pretty smile. Something left over from the last time he'd gotten a hit in the mouth during a tangle with a splicer. "Compared to everything we've seen down here? Not in the least. You can talk to me though, when you need to figure something out. I'm not as smart as you, but I think I could be a decent sounding board for ideas."

"You know you've just made things harder for yourself, right?" Booker asked.

PING!

Thankfully, Liz was saved from having to answer by the synthesization machine signaling that the process was done and the canister was full.

"Thank god," she hissed under her breath. She pulled out her hand cannon, flicking it open to make sure it was fully loaded. " Grab that for me, will you? We've got work to do."

Thirty people. Elizabeth had to kill thirty people on her way here. She killed thirty people and got two bullet wounds in return. And she barely considered either as she injected herself with a med pack and watched her skin stitch itself together.

'I suppose the upside of accepting that you're a terrible person is that you don't have to dwell on it much,' She thought, glancing at the blood that was already drying on her hands. Who knows how much of it was stuck under her fingernails? Glancing over at Jack, who was busy securing the chamber door, Elizabeth couldn't help but wonder how many he had killed on their way here. 'What a pair we make. A pair of monsters.'

"Okay, we should be safe for now. Let's get this done," Jack said. he pulled the canister from his pack, holding that up to Liz. "You want to do the honors?"

The offer was tempting, but Elizabeth shook her head. "No, you put it in and then guard the door. I'm going to fiddle with the console. I found the instructions on how it works in Langford's lab. If I read them right, It'll take some time to get the Lazarus Vector fully dispensed, but operating the council is just a matter of flipping the switches at the right time."

"I'll take your word for it," Jack replied, already sliding the large canister into the appropriate port. "Fingers crossed this all goes according to plan."

'It has to.'

Central misting control was a large room, but not one that was overly elaborate. There were only a few desks and the large central council that overlooked a grove of dead trees. Elizabeth fought the urge to cross your fingers as the machine began to hunt to life. That was a foolish superstition and not one Liz could waste time on as she began to flip the appropriate switches.

"Come on baby, don't fail us now."

Evidently, Fontaine agreed with her sentiment because Jack's radio crackled to life as he decided to throw in his two cents.

"Ah, listen to that damn thing gurgle and crank. How long is it going to take?"

Elizabeth fought the urge to scowl. but when Jack gave her a pleading look, she bit her tongue. "Thirty minutes, give or take."

Thankfully, she was saved from having to get swept into a dialogue with Fontaine. Unfortunately, it was because Andrew Ryan decided he needed to make his thoughts heard.

"It seems Julie's death didn't provide a clear enough lesson to you. Perhaps this will suffice."

Thud! Thud! Thud!

"Fuck!" Elizabeth hissed. No matter what that was, and she thought she had a pretty good idea, it did not sound good.

The voice on the radio switched again.

"Ryan's got your number. No doubt he'll be sending company. If I were you, I'd head back to Langford's lab entrance and seal her up. Might be the only way to keep the Splicers out. Or, at the very least, buy you both some time."

'I hate agreeing with Fontaine but…'

"Can we leave that?" Jack asked, jerking his head towards the console. "Like, if we go will something interrupt the process?"

Elizabeth bit her lip. "At this point, everything is automated. No one can even stop the disbursement cycle it's on. The only thing they could do was destroy it. But they could do that."

Jack swore. Liz felt like agreeing.

"Remember your screwdriver, Elizabeth. Work the problem," Booker advised from his place at one of the desks. "You got into one room with it, why wouldn't you be able to keep others out of a room with it?"

Eureka!

"We'll leave and seal the room," Elizabeth said. "I just got to pop the control panel and then sever the right wires. It'll take a couple of minutes, but it's better than the alternative. then, we make a break back for Langford's lab."

Jack nodded slowly. "Then we batten down the hatches and waited all out. Makes sense, let's do it."

Then minutes later, they were back at Langford's lab and tensions were running high. Perhaps that was foolish to say; Elizabeth couldn't think of a moment when tensions hadn't been high ever since she woke up from her coma.

'How long ago was that? I've lost count. I'll have to ask Tenenbaum next time I see her,' Elizabeth thought absent-mindedly as she was once again wrist-deep in a tangle of wires. ' There you are! Found you!'

"Jack!" she called out. "I found the right wire. we can seal off the door! Get over here!"

"One second, I want to put down a few more mines," Jack called back.

"What are you waiting for boyo? Ryan's lads are on their way, get the lab entrance sealed!" Fontaine demanded over the radio. "Would you kindly get behind that door and get it sealed!"

The effect of Fontaine's words was immediate. Jack abandoned his self-appointed task and bolted for the doorway. The second he passed the threshold, Elizabeth severed the wire with her pen knife and the door slid shut.

Jack flashed a tired smile. "Things are getting exciting, huh?"

"I've had enough excitement to last a lifetime, thank you very much," Liz replied.

That wasn't a joke. As much as she didn't want to think about it, exhaustion was sitting heavily in every fiber of Elizabeth's body. And if she had to guess, Jack wasn't any different. They've been going so hard for so long by this point, and pretty soon their bodies would break. They needed a chance to rest, to wash, and to eat more substantial food than Langford's dried fruit and whatever they managed to scavenge.

'Can I risk taking them to the safe house? I might not have a choice before too long.'

Bang! Bang! BANG!

Any response that Jack may have had was cut off by the sound of an explosion and screaming voices.

"Oh, Christ. Here they come!" Fontaine cried.

Elizabeth raised her handcanon, summoned wintery power to her fingertips, and waited.