Same disclaimers as before.
Chapter 15: Parental Guidance
The factory was higher up than any of them had suspected and falling from the new hole in its walls had the unintended side effect of dropping them some fifty feet above the ground. Elizabeth had scant seconds to analyze her surroundings. From up high, it was clear the city used a grid structure. Nice and easy to navigate. One road in particular seemed to follow the gentle, outer curve of the interior of the mountain. It was toward this road and one bisecting it that they were currently falling.
There were cars parked along the side of the road and one that sat still at a traffic light. Its door was open and the engine was still running. Elizabeth imagined that a huge explosion from fifty feet above would cause anyone to run for cover. Especially if it had been preceded by a major terrorist strike merely a day before.
But no matter. The ground was drawing closer. Elizabeth had perhaps five seconds before she would be flattened against the pavement. In the first second, she brought her hands together in front of her and reached for the cosmic energy of the multiverse. Surely in one of the infinite worlds was one where there just happened to be a bouncy castle beneath her. It might take her a while to find the first world again, but escaping with her life would be worth it.
In the second moment, she pulled her hands apart, expecting the world to tear itself apart around her, folding into a fractured portal to another universe.
It did not.
It took all the way to the fourth second before Elizabeth realized that the energies she had instinctively reached for simply weren't responding. Something was cutting off her ability to reach other worlds. She barely had time to process that information before her brain reminded her that the ground was fast approaching.
In the fifth second, Elizabeth entertained the prospect of praying for her soul. The concrete was mere feet from her falling head. Then her world was filled with something bright yellow, rough to the touch, but surprisingly flexible. As her head snapped back, she wondered if this was what death was. Then she turned her head and saw Booker stand up, wobbly but in triumph.
"Don't bring a river raft, they said," he chuckled. "It's not gonna be of any use, they said."
Elizabeth gently pushed herself up before Silas fell into the instantly inflated raft next to her. The force of her fall sent her flying into Booker, knocking both of them to the ground. When Elizabeth found her bearings, she was lying on top of Booker, pinning him to the ground. "Don't be gross, kid," sputtered Booker, trying to push her off him. "What will the neighbors think?"
She responded with a swift and vicious right hook to his jaw. Booker took the blow with a surprised grunt. Elizabeth did not raise off him, merely cocked back her fist for another strike as she grabbed him by the lapel. "My powers," she panted. "You told me not to use them. Why?"
"Told you," muttered Booker, his tongue flicking around his mouth for a moment. "First world. Can't tear out or into this place, only the Eternal Pathway reaches it."
"Right," said Elizabeth. "Except that doesn't make any sense!"
She punched him again for emphasis and Booker spat a glob of blood. "Loosening my teeth here, Lizzy," he snarled. "Mind knocking that the hell off? Would hate to have to kill you after all this time spent not killing you."
Elizabeth grasped him with both hands and stood up. It took effort, but she managed to hold him off the ground. She had little doubt that her eyes were wild and hair disheveled, but she didn't rightly care in that moment. "Why aren't my powers working?" she demanded. Booker twisted in her grasp and raised his legs. His feet found her stomach and she doubled over in pain as he rolled away.
"Okay," he said, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "That how it's gonna be?"
Elizabeth drew her gun and kept it level with Booker's head. "Answers or bullet. Best offer you're gonna get."
"Counter-offer," said Booker calmly. He slowly raised his hand to the collar of his shirt and reached into it. Elizabeth briefly saw the flash of a thin, silver chain before her heart stopped. She paused for a moment in confusion as she felt the blood in her veins slow to a crawl and eventually stop. Her arm went limp, the muscles unable to work without oxygen-rich blood. Her feet collapsed beneath her and Silas dove forwards to catch her.
"Bastard!" he spat. "What did you do to her?!"
"You people really don't understand how secrets work, do you?" Booker said with a frown.
"Whatever you're doing," said Silas carefully, "stop it now." Elizabeth's lungs stopped being able to receive air and her brain went into full panic mode. It was still processing not dying from the fall, but now it appeared the reaper had merely been inconvenienced for a few seconds.
"I release her and you both agree to not try to kill me?"
Silas glanced down at Elizabeth. She was already pale and was now rounding the corner and turning grey. "Deal," he said. Booker removed his hand from his collar and Elizabeth gasped. Her heart started pumping again, going at twice its normal speed to make up for the lost time. As feeling slowly returned to her limbs and she once again sucked on sweet, albeit hot air, she stumbled to her feet out of Silas's arms. Her gun was still in her hand, but it was now shaking. "How?" she managed to choke out.
"Let's call it a new vigor," said Booker with a shrug. "You've believed that lie before. Now, let's go. Comstock is in the city and-"
"What the hell?!" shouted Silas. "If you think for a moment that we're gonna follow you after that-"
"Don't interrupt me," said Booker casually, raising his gun. Almost in slow motion, he fired off a shot. Silas yelped as it skimmed his arm, tearing through his jacket and leaving a nasty graze. "Now, as I was saying, Comstock is closer than he's ever been so now it's time to follow my lead. You see, there's a lot more finesse and nuance required than you might think."
"Booker," wheezed Elizabeth, still trying to fully refill her body with oxygen. "How? Why? Please." One word sentences seemed all she was capable of at the moment. Her vision was blurry and she was having trouble keeping focus.
Booker slumped his arms and glared at her for a moment until he sighed in resignation. "Yeah," he said, "Yeah, alright. I'll tell you. Haven't gotten this far before anyway. Maybe telling you will be the final piece of the puzzle." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "This isn't the first time I've tried to do this," he explained. "I tried with different versions of you. Most of them didn't trust me either, but they caught on quicker and would turn on me before we made any substantial progress. You thought I could see the Lighthouses but couldn't find my way to the first world on my own? Really? That seemed like a logical explanation to you?"
Elizabeth lowered herself onto her back. She felt childish, lying in the street like that, but considering she had nearly died twice in the last minute, she decided she was justified. "Seemed as reasonable an explanation as any at the time," she muttered.
"Well it wasn't. I can't find the first world at all, I was just retracing my steps to where the last version of you I partnered with got me before she had me figured. See, I learn from my mistakes. I would get farther and farther with you each time. It was when I first came across Silas here, or a version of him anyway, that I learned that a Ryan could boost your perception a bit. Not sure how the science on that works, but the results speak for themselves." Booker spread his arms and took in the city in front of them. It was mostly level, so when he looked up to the massive towers that seemed to reach up to the ceiling of the carved-out mountain, it meant they were only about a half mile away. "The first world," he whispered in awe. "Where I have the power to change everything and anything."
Just then, Elizabeth perked her ear up. "You hear that?" she asked.
Silas narrowed his eyes. "Sirens."
"Crud," sighed Booker, lowering his arms. On the street before them, coming from the center of the city, was a wave of cars with flashing red and white lights atop them. They appeared to be coming pretty fast.
"Police," muttered Elizabeth.
"Right," said Booker, reaching into his bag. He pulled out a long rocket launcher and settled it on his shoulder, gazing directly into the pack of cars.
Elizabeth tugged on Silas's sleeve from the ground. "Hey," she whispered. "You remember how I said we should leave Booker when you saw a landmark?"
Silas pulled her arm until she was standing. "I'm guessing we're just gonna skip a step or two and gun it out of here?"
"Right," said Elizabeth. Her brain was barely working. It was all she could do to not fall asleep. "Can you carry me?" Her words were slurred and, she suspected, unnecessary. She couldn't see him all that well, but Silas was probably smart enough to know what she wanted. Fortunately, she was right. He picked her up and slung her over his back before he took off running.
Elizabeth wrapped an arm around his jostled gun for stability before succumbing to her mind's demand that she pass out.
Her dreams began with a wet feeling on her face. Slowly things sharpened into focus and she saw Eleanor, face covered, dabbing her forehead with a sponge. Even in her dreams, Elizabeth's body felt sluggish and slow. "So that is how she did it," murmured a voice. Elizabeth lifted her head and saw Robert standing behind Eleanor, examining something small between his fingers. "Rather clever. Sadistic, but clever."
"What did he do to me?" Elizabeth croaked.
"My sister has given your guide a device not unlike the syphon we built to contain your powers," explained Robert. "It is miniaturized, able to fit in an hourglass. And it does not negate your abilities, he has another method for that. Rather, it is attuned to the natural vibrations of your heartbeat. With a flick of a switch, he can stop your heart, provided you are within range of course."
The world around Elizabeth was black, but suddenly flickered with grey light. She felt something trickle out of her nose and reached up. When she pulled her fingers away, they were tinged with blood. "What does that mean?" she asked.
"You're trying to remember your parallel selves," Eleanor said softly. "But the way he's blocking your power is also keeping you from accessing them."
Elizabeth grabbed Eleanor's arm. "You died."
"Maybe. You don't know for sure."
Robert closed his fist. "This needs to end. Soon."
"I need my powers back," moan Elizabeth. "How do I get them back?"
"Booker is the key," muttered Eleanor. "He always was."
"Gonna kill him," Elizabeth sputtered as she started to site up.
"No," Eleanor told her gently. "Don't kill Booker. Kill Comstock. Booker is the only one who can save you now." She motioned behind Elizabeth. She turned and looked up at a large crucifix where Booker, the one who saved her in Columbia, was strapped and bleeding. When she'd seen the image before, she thought it was righteous punishment. Now she wasn't so sure and had some questions.
"What's he doing up there?"
Eleanor knelt at Booker's feet and gently began washing them. The blood that dripped down to his toes mixed with the water of the sponge and diluted. "He's punishing himself," she whispered. "This is his guilt, what makes Booker himself, what separates him from Comstock."
Elizabeth slowly nodded. "Comstock prides himself on his sins," she realized. "And overcoming them is what let him ascend to power in the first place. Booker…"
"Booker regrets everything," said Eleanor. "It's what defines him. The perspective is what made him a good man."
Elizabeth rounded on her mother. "A good man doesn't sell a baby."
"And a good man wouldn't buy one," Eleanor countered smoothly. "But only a good one would strive to wipe away his own debt by saving a girl from a prison tower in an oppressive city."
Elizabeth glared back and forth between her parents. Booker's head was hung and she couldn't see his eyes, something that annoyed her to the point of frustration. "He's not a good man," she hissed.
"Maybe not," Eleanor relented. "But he was a good man for two or three moments. He made a few choices as a good man. And that's all that separates a good man from a bad one, just a couple of choices."
Before Elizabeth could respond, Robert placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Time to go," he told her.
"What was I supposed to learn from this?" she demanded in annoyance.
Robert gazed down at her sadly. Elizabeth could tell he was fighting something, not just internally. Perhaps another version of him was still fighting Rosalind and he was experiencing the backlash. "I cannot say for certain," he said. "But whatever it was, I doubt it took. This will be the last time I see you for some time, I suspect. Perhaps we will never see each other again."
Elizabeth's eyes slowly widened. "You can't see the future? You don't know what will happen?"
"Indeed," said Robert conversationally. "Quite interesting, isn't it? The thinner I spread myself, the more obscure the future. Perhaps there's a lesson there."
Elizabeth felt a sharp pain across her face and snapped awake. "Sorry!" hissed Silas quickly, gently grabbing her shoulders as she wiped around to try and find herself. "It was the only way I could think to wake you up!"
"You hit me!" Elizabeth stammered, still looking around. She was sitting against a pole on a darkened porch. The sky was still lit by the red magmatic light of the volcano, but it seemed dim. They were a distance from the central caldera and the street, while dotted with electric lights, was darkened by the shadows of taller buildings closer to the light source.
"Yeah, sorry," said Silas with a wince. Elizabeth leaned up and punched him in the cheek. He stumbled back from her in surprise and fell on his rear with a solid grunt. "Okay, deserved that," he muttered, rubbing the growing red spot on his face where her fist had connected.
"Yeah, but now we're even," said Elizabeth, pushing herself up. The neighborhood they were in had spaced out buildings interspersed with brownstone houses. It had little in the way of vandalism, but the dim lighting and empty street made her feel that this was some sort of slum section of the city. "Where are we?"
Silas nodded to the building behind her. "The place I told you about." Elizabeth turned and breathed a small sigh of relief. The porch she was standing on was actually a wooden stoop to a music store. A large, wooden print of a black, vinyl record was slowly spinning over the door and the wide window demonstrated all the new album covers. 'Voxophones, CDs, Cassettes, Vinyl, and more!' bragged a faded advertisement plastered over the side of the building.
Silas walked back to Elizabeth and examined the door. "You can probably lockpick this, right? It doesn't look too complicated. Not that I know anything about locks. But if you just-"
Elizabeth took off her jacket, wrapped it around her fist, and punched it through the window. Silas yelped and jumped to the side. "Faster, easier, and doesn't lose me another hairpin," she said, shaking the glass shards out of her jacket and slipping it back on.
"And it sets off the alarm!" groaned Silas, pointing to the flashing red light in the upper corner of the store.
"Better be quick then," said Elizabeth with a shrug. "Wanna grab me a cassette player?" Silas rolled his eyes and hoped through the broken window. He disappeared behind the stand of album covers, escaping into the store beyond it. She heard the sound of things moving and a few stands falling before Silas reemerged, opening the door this time.
"Here," he said, holding out a silver device about the size and shape of a brick. He pressed a button and the top popped up to reveal a hidden compartment. Elizabeth took her cassette and, after having to flip it back and forth a few times to get it to fit, inserted it into the device.
Silas clapped it shut and pressed a second button on the device. A sparkling of static came from a series of dots in the brick which Elizabeth immediately identified as a speaker. For a few seconds, there was nothing, just the occasional crinkle and rustle, as if whoever had recorded the tape had had to pull it through a shirt before they could speak into it.
Finally, a throat cleared on the tape. A chill went down Elizabeth's spine and she shuffled uncomfortably. "Anna?" said the voice on the tape. She gasped and covered her mouth.
It was Booker. Not the young one she'd been traveling with and not the elderly Comstock she was hunting, but the somber, grim one who'd first saved her in Columbia a decade ago. The one she'd felt die under her hands in the river. The one she'd seen crucified in her dreams. "It's me," said Booker on the tape. "I…I don't…" his voice became smaller, as if he was talking away from whatever microphone had recorded him. "I don't know what to say," his barely audible voice came through. "Please?"
There was more crinkling and static for a moment before a new voice took over. "Anna, sweetie, it's your mother." It was Eleanor, no doubt about it, but her voice was softer, gentler, it didn't have the edge of loss that it'd had in Columbia and in her dreams. "I hope you're safe when you hear this," Eleanor continued. "Robert Lutece just came through, dear. He explained everything to us. I'm…I'm not sure I understood all of it, but I got the important parts. You're not born yet, when we're recording this, that is. You're in my tummy, sweetie."
Elizabeth slowly lowered herself to the floor of the porch as there was a pause in the audio. Silas lowered himself with her, his eyes flicking back and forth between her and the cassette in amazement. The static started repeating itself, like it was being rubbed against something. "Can you hear yourself?" Eleanor asked, her voice slightly muffled. "That's you in there." The static stopped and Eleanor's voice returned to normal. "Robert…he told us what happens. He said…he said I'll die giving birth to you. And I'm so sorry that I'll never get to see you, to help you grow and to teach you about the world. I…"
Eleanor's voice and Elizabeth choked simultaneously. There was a brief pause before Eleanor took a deep, shuddering breath and continued. "I really wanted to be your mom," she whispered. "But Robert told me what you're going to be. What you're going to become. Honey, oh I'm so proud of you. If he's right about even half of what you'll go on to do, then you're going to be an amazing, wonderful, beautiful person. And even if I never meet you, I'm so happy that you're going to live such a fantastic life."
Elizabeth wasn't even sure how to describe what she was feeling. Tears were falling freely down her cheek, but she made no effort to blink them away. She wasn't even weeping, just letting them trickle out of her eyes. "Good-bye, my beautiful Anna," Eleanor said. "And good luck. I love you, my lovely baby girl." Her voice once again went quiet as she held the microphone away from her mouth. "There. I left the important stuff for you. Want to try again?"
There was another shuffle of static. "Okay," said Booker's voice. "That, ah, that was rough, huh baby? I…Robert…Oh god. Anna, I'm so sorry. I don't…I won't…but I will…Robert told us…told us what I'll do. What some of the other mes will do. Some of what he said…I…"
"Honey," same Eleanor's soft voice. "Focus." While it was muffled by distance, Elizabeth could still hear how her mother's voice became more firm, while still retaining its gentle nature. Booker took a stabilizing sigh before continuing.
"Okay. Okay. Anna, honey, don't trust anyone except your mother, whoever 'The Ryan' is, and me. Not any other version of me, okay? Just me. Your dad. Not Comstock, not any other Booker DeWitt. Just me. Please understand me, sweetie, because I don't even understand it myself. Please don't get hurt. Don't take the risk. Baby, I'm so sorry about what I'm going to do to you…I…without your mother…I-I don't have an excuse. I really don't. And…and you know I don't. I won't. Please forgive me, Anna. I love you. I love you so much."
Eleanor's softened voice returned. "That was good, Booker. But there's still three things left, remember?"
Booker coughed a bit. "Right, right. Um, first of all, Robert says he's going to wipe our minds. Make us forget all this somehow. We're going to go forward not knowing what's gonna hap-happen. Oh god this is hard. Okay, uh, Robert he said, um…what did he say? Lady Comstock. That's it. He said Lady Comstock is the key. So whatever that means…is whatever that means. The last thing he said, and he said that this is the most important thing, is-"
The cassette player exploded in Silas's hand. He screamed at the sudden pain and dropped the charred silver brick to the ground. Elizabeth stared in horror at the scorched device before slowly raising her head. Booker stood in the middle of the street, blowing smoke rising off the finger gun he had raised. "Good thing I came when I did," he said calmly. "I may have sent the cops on a wild goose chase to the other side of the city, but they'll send a car to check out a break-in eventually. Also, I'm gonna go ahead and guess that I didn't want you to hear whatever was on that tape. Robert gave it to you?"
Elizabeth stared at him unblinking, her mouth slightly open in shock. Without moving any other part of her body, she slowly nodded. "Well at least I now know who your patron is," Booker grumbled. "Regardless, I think we both let things kind of get out of hand back at the wall. How about we agree to some new terms, huh?" Silas and Elizabeth continued to stare at him in bafflement. Booker took this as a sign to continue and strolled forward leisurely. "We find and kill Comstock together, I give you back your powers, we part ways as let's call it relative equals, and hopefully never see each other again. Deal?" He reached out his hand for a shake. Elizabeth, her mouth still open and still staring, slowly reached out and grabbed it loosely.
"Cool!" said Booker brightly. "Now, I suggest we find someplace to sleep. Night's coming up and if this Kiln City is like any of the others, the nightlife here is less 'go out and have fun' and more 'kill anyone stupid enough to be out late.'"
"Sounds like your kinda party," snapped Silas, shaking himself out of his daze.
The smile didn't leave Booker's face when he leveled his gun between Silas's eyes and cocked the hammer. "Silas, we just made a new deal, okay? Let's not ruin it so soon." Silas glanced at Elizabeth. She managed to tear herself away from Booker to meet his eyes. She was unsure of what he wanted to see from her, but whatever it was, he didn't see it and simply nodded. "Good," said Booker, holstering his weapon with a twirl. "Shall we?" He started to walk off. Silas paused and glanced at Elizabeth again, but she didn't look his way. Instead, she stood up and followed.
. . .
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