Bioshock Infinite: Unbroken Ch 3: Sorrow/Resolve

Dropping out of the Tear, Booker lands on a stack of crates high above a dimly lit wharf, the stench of rotting fish assaulting his nose.  Down below, he sees Splicers milling about on piers and mud, everything dampened by the pervasive wetness and the gray-blue light that suffused the wharf.  Behind him at least looked dry and lit, though a persistent drip from a pipe overhead had made a small puddle.

“Alright, Lutece, where’s the next – grk!”  Pain like white hot pokers stabbing the back of his eyes drops Booker to his knees, visions, nightmares and memories rushing through his mind, each intensifying the pain until he can bear it no more, collapsing on the rotting wood.
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Unconscious, Booker bears witness to more of his other self’s journey.  He sees Elizabeth, dancing on the pier at Battleship Bay, how happy she looks to be free.  He remembers the trap as they tried to board the First Lady, Elizabeth’s shock at the violence he committed, and her anger at his betrayal.  Then he sees the Vox Populi and Daisy Fitzroy, him chasing after Elizabeth through Fink’s, travelling through Tears, Elizabeth running a bloodthirsty Daisy through with a pair of scissors, and finally her wearing a blue dress, her hair cut short.
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The sound of machine gun fire pulls him back to the waking world, Booker groggily rolling onto his stomach and peering below.  A man in a dirty white sweater fights a monstrous creature in a diving suit, different from the one in his nightmare but similar enough.  The man’s submachine gun fire barely hurts the beast as he scrambles about to avoid the monster’s rivet gun fire.

“It’s him.”  Booker remembers the vision Elizabeth had, the man she saw having the same hair, the same sweater as the man below.  He then remembers Lutece’s warning.  “Don’t interfere, huh?”

And just like that, the fight comes to an end; coils of electricity jump from the man’s hand, stunning the beast and allowing him to pour round after round into its head.  As it falls, the only sound that breaks the silence is the distorted sobbing of a little girl, a girl that looks much like the one in his nightmare.

“No!  No, no!”

Every paternal fiber in his body screams for him to interfere as the man picks up the little girl, struggling and screaming.

“You must not interfere.”  Booker nearly falls off the crate as he tries to turn, the voice of his guide catching him off guard.  “She’ll be fine, he won’t harm her.  Elizabeth’s sacrifice allows him to save the Little Sisters, so long as events aren’t changed by your presence.  Take a look.”

Turning back to the scene below, Booker breathes a sigh of relief as he sees the girl, now normal looking, scamper off to a vent and climb in.  “Well, Lutece, at least you showed up in time.  I’d have broken my leg, jumping down there like a damned fool…”

“Most certainly, and that would be a most disappointing end to your journey.  I wouldn’t have time to recruit another you… even if there was another as suited as you.”

“As suited as me?  What the hell are you talking about, Lutece?”

Lutece simply stops, staring back at Booker in disbelief.  “The visions.  Surely you understand they are part of it.  You are the only Booker DeWitt to have these visions, the only one with so strong a connection to her.”

The only one?  Booker shrugs, scratching his head. Whatever the reason, he still has a job to do.  Lutece only nods at the strange look Booker gives him.

“Have you recovered all of your memories yet?  Do you know who she is?”

Lutece sighs as Booker shakes his head, “Pity.” He turns towards a vending machine, “There is a Plasmid waiting for you, when you have it, return and go to the Wharfmaster’s Office.”  He nods at a locked gate, “You might find a wrench or other tool helpful.”

“Why don’t you just tell me why I’m here?  Who is she, and what’s your game?”

Shaking his head, Lutece turns away, “That you will have to discover on your own.”  With that, Lutece disappears around the corner, leaving Booker on his own.

Turning to his task, Booker stops; the puddle from before was now a pool.  Scrambling for the pocket watch, Booker groans, “4:05.  It couldn’t have taken more than ten to deal with Cohen… I’ve been out for a good twenty or so minutes… how was I not found by Splicers?”

A sigh escapes him as he trudges over to the vending machine, raising an eyebrow as he spies the purple bottle of the Plasmid, a figure of a man riding a stylized lightning bolt like a horse for a cap.  “Huh… Shock Jockey?  How the… how’s there a Vigor in Rapture?”  Drinking the glowing purple liquid, Booker raises his left hand, waiting for it to kick in.

First, it starts as an itching, a tingle between his fingers.  “Holy hell.”  Coils of electricity dance between his fingers, jet black shards of obsidian grow from his skin before disappearing, the power similar to what the man had used against the monster.

“No!  It’s mine!”

Instinctually, Booker ducks, seeking cover as a hook buries itself in the casing of the vending machine, just above his head.  Spinning around to face his attacker, Booker draws his revolver as he goes.

“…Get down here you crawly bastard!”  Slipping around the corner, squeezing off a return shot as another pair of hooks barely miss him, Booker looks again at his attacker, unsure if he saw it right.

A masked man crawls upside down along the roof, both hands holding hooks.  “It’s mine!  Give it back!”  The crazed Splicer throws another pair of hooks as it screams, digging them into the metal of the Gene Bank.

“Now’s a good a time as any I suppose…!”  Dashing out from behind cover, raising his left hand as he did, Booker calls on the Plasmid, “Eat this you freak!”

Bolts of electricity fly from his palm, striking the roof crawler and dropping it to the ground, its body spasming as the electricity courses through its body.

Charging the fallen Splicer, Booker brings the revolver to bear, the report of the weapon silencing the Splicer’s screams.  Kneeling, Booker can only stare at the creature, unable to comprehend how it could end up like this; the Splicer’s limbs look a little too long to be natural, the paper mask failing to hide a face heavily distorted and worn, almost looking like someone took a cheese grater to it. “Lutece was right.  This… this is worse… what else is down here?”  A sigh escapes him as he stands.

“Suppose I should go find something for the chain…”  Creeping slowly through the dimly lit wharf, Booker makes his way towards some stairs, all other paths barred, keeping well clear of another monster and Little Sister.  He only pauses to stare in horror as the Little Sister harvests a Splicer’s corpse, tearing his gaze away as the monster turns in his direction, putting the grisly sight behind him.  A shudder runs down his spine as he makes it downstairs.

“That settles it… this place is just as bad as Columbia… why the hell did Elizabeth come here?”

Shouts and gunfire break the silence, coming from past a sign labeled Fontaine’s Fisheries and drawing closer.  ‘You must not interfere…’ came Lutece’s warning again, Booker sighing and holstering his revolver.  “The way forward is blocked,” Booker thinks back to the chained gate barring the way to the Wharftmaster’s office, “No cover that way… hmm…” Glancing at the frigid water beneath the pier, dank and murky, Booker sighs again, removing his satchel and weapon, hiding them as best he can.

“Here goes nothing…”  Taking a deep breath, Booker slides into the filthy water, the cold chilling him to the bone as he slips beneath the pier.  

Creaking and sagging, the sounds of boots striking wood, shadows cast through the spaces between planks shows the progress of the man, Booker counting each passing second silently to keep his mind off the cold, his hands clenched tightly around the pocket watch.  The man stops directly above Booker’s hiding spot, boards shifting this way and that as he looks around.

“Don’t find me, don’t find me…”  The thought races through Booker’s mind, holding his breath and only releasing it slowly as the man moves on.  Only when the sounds completely disappear does Booker allow himself a sigh of relief, his breathing slowly returning to normal.  “F-four-oh-eight…”  His teeth chatter as he mutters the time to himself.

“I’m lost in this madhouse, cold, wet, surrounded by murderous lunatics, chasing after a girl I don’t really know, and now to top it all off I’m getting hungry…”  His stomach rumbles as he slips out of hiding, grumbling while pulling himself out of the water, “I’m going to shake the answers out of Lutece the moment he shows up again.”

All grumbling stops once back upstairs; the gate stands open, sounds of gunfire echoing from up ahead.  “Something tells me this guy and I have a few things in common.”  A smile brightens Booker’s mood as he makes to follow.

Following the trail of the increasingly strange man, Booker finds himself among many dead Splicers, a scene of bloody battle.  Most had been picked clean, but one in the corner catches his eye; hanging from a strap around the Splicer’s neck is what looks like a repeater, letters carved into the wooden stack reading, ‘Thompson’.

“What’s this, a drum clip?”  Retrieving the repeater, looking it over, Booker grins again, glad to have a resupply; his revolver has all of two rounds left.

Footsteps.  Scrambling behind a pillar, Booker catches sight of the man again, now carrying a camera and hurrying back the way he came.

“Too close.”  Breathing another sigh of relief, Booker waits until the coast is clear again before cautiously continuing on, the way clear of Splicers thanks to the man in the sweater.

As he approaches the Wharftmaster’s office, Booker can almost hear Elizabeth’s voice, as if from a memory.  Her voice causes a grin to tug at his features, Booker wondering why he was thinking of her now, until he heard her voice again, “Wait… that’s not…”  Not memories, but pieces of a conversation, the words muffled but getting louder as he draws nearer to the office.

“Just give me the girl…”  Elizabeth’s voice comes through clearly as Booker reaches the Tear, fading away in an instant, her words chilling him to his very core, surer than the icy waters had.  He knows that line, when she said it, and the torture that follows.

“I’m coming, Elizabeth…”  Booker whispers as he opens the Tear, stepping through without hesitation.  Remembering what happened after the last Tear, Booker screws his eyes shut, bracing for what may come.
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Seconds pass.  Then ten.  Twenty.  Booker opens his eyes, no rush of memories greeting him, but a pair of familiar faces instead.  A poster stares back at him, Elizabeth and Cohen singing into a microphone.  The description below draws a chuckle from Booker despite his situation.

“Songbird.  She must have found that ironic.”

Booker recognized a dancing lounge when he saw one, and the once lavish, now dilapidated room he stands in looked like a pricy one, the high vaulted ceilings and floor-to-ceiling view of the ocean setting a pleasant mood.  He stood on a raised wooden platform, several stage lights beaming down on him, the rest of the floor covered in water from a broken pipe.  A sign beyond the glass, red lights illuminating it, read ‘Manta Ray Lounge’.  Two glass doors lead out of the room, both open, the main lounge empty save for him.

“Not empty.”  Peering out a door, his eyes narrow as he sees an unconscious Splicer, a bump formed on the back of his head, Booker quickly retreating into the dance room.

“Whoa!”  His foot catching on something, Booker falls with a shout, landing on his back, the breath forced from his lungs.  “Dammit,” pushing up on his elbows, cursing at whatever he was tangled on, Booker searched for the offending object, “get off my leg you…”

He falls silent as his gaze found three metal prongs, one partially caught in his pants leg, stirring memories of their own.  “Sky-Hook…”  The weapon fits his hand just as he remembers, the design decidedly different from the one Elizabeth had, Booker absentmindedly noting the Tear Device fits right between the metal protecting his forearm.

He and Elizabeth had ridden the Sky-Lines together, the memory of her excitement the first time drawing a smile from the very weary Booker.  “Lutece must have known I’d find a Sky-Hook, or left it here,” turning his attention to the Tear Device, Booker shakes his head, “it’s too much of a coincidence, fitting like this.”

“See the Pyramids alooong the Nile…”

Booker stops in his tracks, Elizabeth’s voice catching his ear.  He knows the sound of her voice, but only from snippets of conversation in visions and nightmares, nothing like this.  Her voice comes from a radio in the far corner of the lounge, her voice haunting and sad, drawing him closer.

“I’ll be so alone without you… maybe you’ll be lonesome too…”

Standing transfixed before the radio, Elizabeth’s beautiful voice stirs something inside of Booker, the sorrow in her voice tugging at his heart.  Her music almost feels like magic.

“Just remember, till you’re home aaagain… you belong… to meeee…”

Her voice fading, Booker finds he is free of the spell that held him, only an ache in his chest left of the entire episode.  Looking again at the poster of Elizabeth, Booker has to take a seat, the ache refusing to disappear.  In the midst of the pain, a memory comes to him, of Elizabeth singing while he plays a guitar.  Time seems to slow as the melody plays in his memory, Booker losing himself in that moment, just him and the girl.  When he opens his eyes again, the ache is still there, but better.

“… Will the circle… be unbroken…?”  Shaking off the song’s effects, Booker rises as he mumbles the line from the memory.  “Why… why can I imagine that she’s only ever had loneliness and suffering?”  The thought causes him to shudder as he steps away from the radio, sparing it a glance as he goes.

Stepping out of the lounge, Booker quickly ducks behind a railing; the plaza below is filled with Splicers and another monstrosity, this one exactly like the one in his nightmare, roams the area, the Splicers giving it a wide berth.

“Lutece, now would be a good time for you to show up.”

Silence.  Booker waits, looking around for his elusive guide.  A guide who doesn’t show.

“Son of a…”  Cursing silently, he sneaks down a spiraling staircase and along the wall, the darkness of the plaza helping despite weariness making his limbs leaden. He constantly moves to avoid the Splicers, slipping into the first door he finds.  Passing through a display area, Booker finds an elevator open.

“… At least I can hide in here until Lutece shows up.”  Stepping in, a single button sits on the console, the doors refusing to close behind him as he waits.  “Hmph, fine.  Up we go.”  Doors slide shut once he hits the button, the elevator rising quickly and opening up to a glass passage, a tunnel through the water.

“Can’t I get a break?”  Already sitting on the floor with back to the wall, Booker rests his head against the cool glass and metal, closing his eyes.  When he opens them again, the doors remain open, drawing an irritated groan.  “Alright, I get it… no rest for the weary, huh?”  Picking himself up, Booker staggers down the tunnel, somehow feeling a bit better.

The passage opens up into a common area, faint blue light from above dimly lighting the surroundings as water drips from overhead.  Two distinctly different establishments greet Booker, the brightly lit red sign of one in sharp contrast to the dim, flickering blue of the other. "Ryan the Lion Preparatory Academy… a school, alright… and Cupid's Arrow… an… adult bookstore next to a school…" Standing before the school and 'bookstore', the idiocy of having the two together drawing a sigh of exasperation, Booker makes his choice. "I… suppose Cupid's Arrow might have some pillows…"  He makes for the door bathed in red light, a sense of something drawing him onward in the back of his mind.

Inside, like the lounge before the store is strangely empty, all the doors unlocked, even to a room obviously meant for peepshows.  Everything had been picked clean, even more so than usual for Rapture and Splicers.   Rows of adult literature line the walls, Booker again shaking his head at the placement of the establishment.

“Wait… this place… I’ve seen it before.”  Stepping into the peep room, Booker turns his attention to the table, littered with empty Plasmid bottles, a scene from his nightmare returning.

Lifting a bottle, Booker’s mind clicks into place, “She was here…”  Turning quickly, Booker sprints to the back, a sense of something drawing him forward growing in his gut, stronger with each step.

There, alone in an empty dressing room, stands Elizabeth’s blue dress.  Stepping closer, he could almost hear her voice, as if an echo, “… after I came through… something to wear that was a little more Rapture…”

Shaking his head, trying to clear the phantom voices, Booker reaches for the dress as they fade, running his fingers over the  fabric, “This was… is hers.  Elizabeth’s… after Fitzroy…”  A faint memory returns, of seeing her in it for the first time, the feelings it awakens bringing life back to his weary body.

“Just hold on, Elizabeth, I’m coming.”  Stripping the dress dummy bare and packing the dress into his satchel, Booker turns back, striding to the elevator and returning to the lower level, his resolve returned.

Stepping out of the elevator, something catches Booker’s eye, a familiar face causing him to falter and stop in his tracks.  A poster of the man with the wrench stares back at him, plastered on a barrel, Booker feeling a cold knot in the pit of his stomach as the final moments of the nightmare flash before his eyes.  

“Atlas,” reading the name on the poster, Booker stumbles away, remembering the nightmare and all the pain and sorrow it evokes, “now I know your name, bastard.”  Anger surges within him as Booker turns away, forcing his mind from Atlas to Elizabeth.  Thinking of her calms him, driving him forward, past the image of the man he was starting to hate as much as Comstock.

Checking his revolver and repeater as he makes his way back to the lounge, his mind still on memories of the girl, Booker nearly misses catching sight of a certain someone as she makes her way across the plaza.

“Eliza-mmph…!”  Catching himself, Booker clamps a hand over his mouth, ducking behind a pillar as thoughts of Lutece’s warning echo in his mind, warring with the urge to intervene.

“I can save her now…”  Crouching behind the pillar, Booker groans, knowing why he can’t but desperately wanting to anyway, “She’ll help save the Little Sisters, and if I make a mess of things, she’ll never forgive me…”

Growling as he stands, a measure of the weariness returning, Booker rubs his temple with the revolver’s barrel.  “This isn’t where she dies, I still have time… and knowing her and Lutece, getting in the way now will just make things worse.  And I don’t want to end up on the wrong side of her temper.”  He mutters the last with a laugh, taking off to follow her.  The least he could do was watch over her for now.

Moving from cover to cover, Booker kept as far from Elizabeth as possible, knowing how perceptive she could be.  She stopped in front of a restaurant before moving on, Booker stopping a moment to read the sign.  “Silver Fin… so that’s where we’re going, huh?”  Sighing, fragments of the nightmare centered on the restaurant coming unbidden, Booker turns in time to see Elizabeth disappear into a maintenance room.

Stepping up to the door, Booker raises an eyebrow as he hears something heavy scrapping along the floor.  “This could take some time… or not?”  The scrapping fades, replaced by a grunt before silence takes hold.  Taking a deep breath, Booker cracks the door.

Inside the maintenance room, Booker couldn’t help smiling; a large cabinet had been pushed aside to reveal a vent, the sounds of Elizabeth crawling around inside faintly audible.  “I could get a cheap scare out of this… no, they’ll both kill me for acting like a damn fool.”  Shaking his head and chuckling to himself, Booker waits for the sounds to vanish, checking the watch absentmindedly.  “5:10… Anna should be up by now…”  A pang of regret draws a frown from Booker; leaving his daughter in someone else’s care ever sat right with him.

When the last bump fades, Booker secures his weapons as best he can, reaching into the vent and pulling himself up into it, the tight fit hampering his attempts to remain silent.

“… Because I’ll fix your machine, Suchong.”  Nearing the exit, Booker nearly falls on his face, Elizabeth’s voice echoing through the vent.  Peering through the grate, he doesn’t see her in the reception room, but then she speaks again and Booker let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“She’s by the door talking to the doctor… whew.  Ah, there you are.”  Pictures of Columbia stare back him, one of his other self, and Booker remembers the Tear sits in the middle of the next room, at the heart of what he somehow knew to be a Lutece Device.

“So that’s why Plasmids and Vigors are so similar.”  Sighing as he realized where he was heading to next, Booker prepares to crawl out of the vent when a voice struck a chord, a voice with no speaker, coming from the Tear.

“Booker, you there?  … I miss you.  You were the only one who ever… You were my only friend.”

And Booker’s world spins into darkness.
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The darkness soon gives way, but not to a dream or to visions of his other life.  No, not a dream, but a nightmare of things to come.

Booker watches Elizabeth repairing the Lutece Device and stepping through, watches her take a Lutece particle, looking upon the Luteces speaking to Daisy Fitzroy and finally hearing the words again as she sees the other Booker and Elizabeth.  “Booker… I miss you… you were my only friend.”
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Booker wakes with a shout, still in the air vent.  “Ughh…”  Rolling over and groaning, Booker rubs his face as he crawls out, not surprised in the least to find a trace of tears.

“Elizabeth… just what are you to me?”   Rubbing his eyes, Booker makes for the Tear, feeling haggard but determined.

Suchong’s makeshift lab remains completely empty, no displays of Suchong or Ryan, and no unconscious ‘sharks’.  A smile crept onto Booker’s face as he remembers her subduing them one at a time, “That’s my girl…”

“Wait, what?  Why’d I…?”  Confusion grips him, but Booker shakes his head, “I’ll find out why soon enough.  Even if I have to beat it out of Lutece.”  Opening the Tear, Booker let himself feel pride for Elizabeth once more before continuing on.