BioShock Rapture

“So you did come,” she said softly. “How’d you arrange it?”

Wales had to take a breath to calm himself before he replied. He viewed this woman as a sending from the Locus of Universal Love. It was like being with the radiant Joan of Arc as she waited for the stake. “I … I have some terms of friendship with Sinclair, since Daniel and I were the chief architects of Rapture. I convinced him to let me inspect the structure here, to see if it was putting strain on the rest of Rapture—all a blind, of course. He allowed it—and then it was simply a matter of bribing the guards…”

“Good. You must see to it that the guards will let you in whenever you come—pay them whatever you must. They fear Sullivan and Ryan—they cannot be induced to simply let me go. But they can be persuaded to let me talk freely with the other inmates.” She frowned. He could see emotional pain flicker across her face, quickly suppressed. “What about … Eleanor? Any word?”

“They have her in some kind of … conditioning.”

She grimaced. “Well. They will think she is one thing … but I have buried her true mission deeply inside her. Eleanor will survive! And she will surprise them. She will surprise everyone here. I have faith in that.” She glanced at the door. “I’m developing a therapeutic relationship with Nigel Weir…”

Wales looked at her in surprise. “Weir? The warden of Persephone? He let you…”

She smiled. “He’s a sad, disturbed little man. Under pretense of interrogating me—he asked me about himself. Indirectly, you see. I turned the interrogation back on him—we even looked at his files together. I think I’ve persuaded him to let me do some experimenting—and therapy on the prisoners in Persephone. He’ll convince Sinclair it’s all for the benefit of Ryan’s little fiefdom. But in time, I plan to organize a rebellion here. One which they will never expect. They’re foolish, putting so many political prisoners in one facility—it plays into our hands…”

Gazing at her, Wales felt dizzy. He suddenly—uncontrollably—went to his knees. “Ma’am … oh, Sofia! How is it that I was ever loyal to Andrew Ryan? That I let him blind me?”

She smiled. “It’s all right, Simon. The ego is powerful. The will to love is weak, at first. It must be strengthened with sacrifice to the collective. It takes time! But you were one of the first to see the light. You are beloved to me, Simon Wales … And in good time, Ryan will fall. And I … we … will be waiting to take his place. Rapture will be ours. Tell them—tell everyone—I will be watching! I will know who is a slave to ego—and who ascends to the body with the blessed…”

“Yes, Sofia! I’ll see that your flock knows!”

Sofia Lamb put a hand on his head, in benediction. Wales felt an orgasmic shudder go through him at her touch, and he lowered his head and wept with joy …

13

Rapture Detention

1956

Sullivan was worried about Head Constable Harker. The HC was breathing through his mouth like a man who’d just finished a two-mile run, but Sullivan knew damn well he’d been sitting at that desk at least half an hour. One of Harker’s cigars, still smoking, was just a butt in the seashell ashtray. Harker sat there, panting, staring into space, drumming his freckled fingers on the desk. The head constable was a short, thick, jowly man with receding red hair, a shabby black suit. Looked like he hadn’t shaved in a couple of days.

“You asked me to come over, Harker, remember?” Sullivan said, sitting across from him. “You okay? You look kinda worse for wear.”

“Sure, I’m … I’m okay.” Harker reached up, unconsciously fingering the constable’s badge on his lapel. “I just sometimes wonder”—he glanced at the door to make sure it was closed—“if I made a mistake coming to Rapture.”

Sullivan chuckled. “Don’t feel like the Lone Ranger on that one. Don’t know many who don’t feel that way sometimes.”

Harker nodded, too rapidly. “But there’s still some true believers, Chief. Like Rizzo. Wallace. Ryan, of course. That crackpot, Sander Cohen. Maybe McDonagh. ’Course, we lost some too—like Greavy…” Harker sighed.

“Yeah, shame about Greavy—too confident, strutting around like he owned the place. They nearly got Bill McDonagh too.”

“I dunno, I don’t have a good feeling about it, Chief. I’m grateful you got me this post. But I shoulda stuck around in the States and, I don’t know, gone into something else…”

“Me and you, we’re badges, pal. Too old to change.” He could see Harker was scared, plenty scared. “What is it? I mean—there’s something that’s got you off-balance here. Something in particular. Why’d you call me over here?”

Harker rubbed a thumbnail raspily over his two-days’ growth of beard and reached into the desk drawer. He took out a pistol, stood up, stuck the pistol in his coat pocket, and said, “I’ll show you. Come on.”