Rapture Noir: Kiss Yesterday Goodbye

        The tear closed behind me in an instant as I set my feet on the other side. The city around me looked the same as the one I came from, but I knew it was different. I could feel it. I crossed the realities enough times to pick up on everything that accompanied them, the perceptible and imperceptible, but the longing for home was good enough beacon to guide me through all the realities. But home wasn't a place.

 

        I left the dark alley behind and headed for the southern part of the Apollo square. Hestia was a former Fontaine territory, now taken over by Atlas's folk.  Home For the Poor was still there, with Ryan too busy to even care about it, now that he had the Orphanage located in Hestia under control. Posters on the walls were the same, even the red anti-Ryan graffiti in the exact same spots like in our Rapture.

        "Our." I snorted, catching myself thinking of him again. Not even thinking, just treating it like a fact of life. Him and me, and city, for us to enjoy...  

 

"The Little Sister's Orphanage: In troubled times, give your little girl the life that she deserves. Boarding and education free of charge! After all, children ARE the future of Rapture."

 

        The chatter of PA system broke my train of thought and brought me back to my purpose there. Little girls, childhood traded for power. Eleanor and Anna. I knew the types responsible for their suffering. "Rapture's best and brightest" they called themselves. But my search is not about them, I must know where and when can I act, where and when can I whisk the girls away to safety, and to do so at once in all possible realities. But so far the answer was not forthcoming. If these worlds were apart, how could I tie them all together?

 

        The entrance of the Orphanage was in front of me, its bright sign and cheerful tunes of "We Are Free" disguising its true nature. Same sights, same sounds. Same reactions too, as I approached the front doors, with the camera aimed at me, its lights glowing in ominous red. I glanced sideways and noticed the intercom for all incoming guests. Surprisingly enough, this time its on the other wall, as opposed to the one in 'our' Rapture. I pressed on the buzzer and after a small click, I heard a voice.

       

        "Rapture's Little Sister Orphanage, how can we help you?"

 

        "I cleared my throat and spoke up. "I would like a meeting with the manager and caretaker of the facility please."  

        "I'm sorry, but meetings with doctor Tenenbaum are by appointment only. If you are here for business, I can direct you to..."

        "That won't be necessary, thank you."

 

        The camera ceased its observation of me as I stepped away from the intercom, returning to its default green.

        Brigid Tenenbaum. Not only did she discover ADAM, but she was the one that put the slugs in the girls. The circumstances of the children seemed the same too, always orphans and always girls. There seemed to be little permutation as the conclusions were the same, no matter the tear. I started to suspect what my sought after point of origin was.

 

        I took out a notepad out of my handbag and flipped through pages full of notes I made on my excursions. My handwriting is almost antique, ill-fitting with the art-deco around me and I smiled to myself. What was spelled out on these pages is equally ill-fitting with the opulent optimism and consumerism of this place.

        There are no Little Sisters without ADAM, and there is no ADAM without Tenenbaum.  

 

        The notes fit tightly in my bag as I've put them away, sharing space with a revolver I took from Abigail. My feet guided me back to the dank alley, where I can head for the final stop of the journey. It was discomforting, how easy and how radical it all seemed. Too reminiscent of another place and another time, but at the same time what solution did I have?        

 

        I was back in the alley, smelling the refuse and staring into darkness as I prepared myself for final jump. You learn to live with those things, hard choices, like Booker said...

I stopped just as I was about to open a tear. This has to be done, I tried to reassure myself, there was nothing I could do but let it go. Booker would change, everything about him would. Everything we did, that he did, said or met with people, Abigail among them, and she would not... I took a deep breath and I walked out of the alley back to the Apollo Square, my walk a slow, contemplative tour. He would change but I would not lose him, he would still be here. But all that happened, he would remember, wouldn't he? Or would he lose the memories like he lost them when I brought him to Rapture? I kept asking myself these questions, an internal debate brewing in me.  

 

        I got on a tram heading for the Market Street. I needed time to think, take a break. Ironic, considering that I had virtually unlimited time if I wanted to. I sat down next to an elegantly dressed couple, chatting away quietly. She, a platinum blonde in a coat and a small hat on her head and he, a square-jawed man in a fedora and a suit. I could see how he leans in and whispers in her ear and she squeezed his hand, their fingers entwined, smiles on their faces. A most ordinary thing in the world, you could say. I suddenly ache for a touch and something swells in my chest. I turn my head away, the sight is too much for me.

 

        The ride stopped at the first stop and I took the chance to leave to walk the rest of the way. I did not know where I was going, but for some reason the direction felt right. The grime of the tenements of Hestia and and dirt of Apollo was replaced with shining brass and bright lights, music and loud chatter of the people milling around the area. My eyes wandered from place to place and everywhere they saw people holding hands, kissing, laughing. Every time I tried to escape that sight, I encountered a new one around the corner. Every couple had their faces, his piercing green eyes and her wavy brown hair. They were happy, proper, Rockwellian even.

 

        I made it to the elevator as quickly as I could and lean against the wall as it carries me down. I was afraid, with the consequences of the last event still reverberating in my life. I did not want to take another hit like that, I couldn't, but these children would not escape by themselves, that was the only way to save them. Only way to their happiness. The solution was to cut the suffering at the root, before it had the chance to grow. The swelling in my chest grew and I could not help but sigh as I got out of the elevator.

       

        I try to keep my composure as I move through a busy alley, buildings facing the sea, with a curved pane of glass between them. I feel more and more out of place by myself in the crowd. The couples have thankfully disappeared but something else caught my eye - a family. A man and a woman held hands with a small boy, who walked between his parents. I knew this is why I had to do it, I told myself, so that these children are not without their parents, so that they are not alone. like I was.

 

        The desperation set in as my mind refused to give me another solution. Was Tenenbaum really evil? Or maybe just ignorant? I realized it was callous to think of her as an obstacle to be disposed of, another Comstock, irredeemable. I tried to hang on to that thought, maybe there was a way out in it, but that tear and countless others showed otherwise.  I climbed the stairs to an upper walkway, looking for a door to an office of a private eye but I found nothing, just a smooth wall. I knew he wasn't there, I knew I was the wrong place, but I couldn't let go. The aching grew in me and I sighed again, but the nagging feeling of right and wrong could not be consoled by the threat of tears that were gathering in my eyes. I could not run away or stand by idly, living with yet another mistake as I tried to make my own little world right.  

 

        Taking another deep breath, I started walking back in the direction of the shops. I had all that I needed to do the job, but I had to let him know. That much I owed him and myself.