BEYOND THE SEA (Bioshock 3 quest)

"So, I heard on 60 Minutes that they're pretty dangerous. Is that true?"

The lady at the front desk of the store, held a purse in both of her hands, her brow furrowed. The smiling Marathon rep chuckled, like he'd heard the question a hundred times a day. You were lounging in the seat by the front door, with one of the magazines. It was TIME, and you had flipped it open, frowning intently and not quite reading the headline.

"Those were plasmids from the 1950s," he said, grinning slightly. "Marathon products have been vetted by the FDA - that's why you won't be walking out of here with some SportBoost or Incinerate, but instead some high quality, modern plasmids." He gestured over to the big posters, which were backlit by some fluorescent lights. They showed a man in a color tee shirt and jeans, riding a skateboard over several awe struck passers. Below him was the logo ARISE. At the top right was the logo for Marathon Plasmids.

"Arise is one of our most popular health and wellness plasmids."

"How does it work?"

You sigh. This was going to keep going, wasn't it? You started actually trying to process the words on the headline. Premier Kosygin and President Carter At Bioethics Conference. The picture was of the two world leaders, both looking remarkably fit and healthy, walking past some fancy people at a fancy party. You kept reading the sentence 'the conversation continued the opening of the Iron Curtain, begun when the Soviet submarine S-451 first discovered the...' without getting past the last few words. Instead, your eyes kept flicking from the magazine to the clerk, trying to get a view of his tag, but the dumpy woman was always in the way.

"Well, the plasmid takes Adam and uses it to rewrite your genetics following a blueprint that Marathon scientists have worked out. Arise has a guaranteed fifty percent improvement in cardiovascular health, a resting bodyweight of one hundred and ninety pounds for men, one hundred and twenty for women, and a complete reversal of arthritis."

"Oh my."

Your eyes flicked down. You turned the page. This article was about the implementation of plasmids in the upcoming Olympic Games. Three professional athletes had been found using mental augmentation plasmids, and their countries were arguing that the use was completely fair, as the plasmids did not impact their cardiovascular or muscular systems. The sentence you got stuck on this time was 'however, Mentatis has been known to improve focus, reaction speed, and other cognitive features that the Olympic Ethics Board says have a direct..."

"Now, the process is simple. Adam comes in three types-"

"From those poor girls?" The woman asked, rubbing her knuckles against her lips. "Like on 60 Minuets?"

"No, no, again, this is modern processes-"

"You're sure?" She sounded nervous, but...also, not nervous enough to not have come at all. You sighed, then flipped the page. An advertisement for a brand of cigarettes. Your foot was tapping now.

"The modern processes used to extract Adam is safer, healthier and does not depend on humans at any point in the production chain, don't worry." The clerk said. "However, it comes in three types - pre-set, moderate flexible, and full flex. Now, you just want a basic, run of the mill Arise, that means you won't need a full flex injection. That's cheaper, that's good!"

"Oh!"

"However, it will require regular blood tests, to ensure the injections are tailored for your hormones and genetics."

"Oh..."

The clerk was smooth. "Now, moderate flexible, that will let you avoid that, for only a 50% increase in upfront costs and three extra months for the monthly payment. That's actually cheaper than the doctor's appointment - unless, of course, you have insurance?"

"Well, I do, but...I do hate needless."

You glared at the grinning face of the movie star. You were about to scream.

Finally, finally, finally, the dowdy woman was ushered into the back for her one time biometric scan - no needless, the clerk had promised. You closed your magazine and stood, trying to not let your agitation show. Your eyes flicked to his nametag, and you finally read it - and got ready for crushing disappointment.

Instead, the smiling clerk is Tony. Good. Good.

You had waited three days for Tony to be on schedule. You hadn't known his schedule. And, while you could have asked, you were doing your best to avoid drawing attention. You smiled a bit at Tony. "Hey," you said.

"Are you interested in Marathon products, ma'am?" he asked.

"I am," you said.

"Well, I'm going to need either your card or your parents," Tony said, his smile cheerful. "You need to be twenty one years old or have a doctor's permit and your parents approval to buy any Marathon products - though-"

"Ahem," you coughed. "I heard, uh, you could set someone up if they knew Lambert. With a discount. I am twenty one and, uh, my card's right here." You reached into your pocket, moving so that your body was between the security camera and the counter. You slid the five hundred bucks across the counter. Tony made it vanish remarkably fast.

"Well, it looks all in order here," he said, smiling at you.

You smile back, thinly.


"So…"

"You can call me Jackie," you said, hurriedly. Tony looks at you square on, frowning slightly. You fidget ever so slightly, crossing your arms over your chest and sticking out your jaw. You inherited it from Dad. You weren't sure what he'd tell you right now - but that was because you were damn sure you were never, ever, ever going to let him know. You just...had to get her back. Then, come back to land before anyone noticed you missing. Easy. Easy, people snuck off to Rapture all the time, for the black market nip and tuck shit, right? CEOs did it all the time. All the time.

Yeah.

This was a terrible fucking plan.

"Well, Jackie," Tony said as he opened the door to the back room of the Marathon Plasmids store. It was a storage closet that had an old security camera which tracked back and forth, but had no recording light on it. "What do you want? We got uncut Arise, we have Shine, we have some new shit that they're gonna roll out next month." His grin was wry.

"I want weapons," you said, softly.

He paused. "You want…weapon plasmids."

"Yeah," you said.

"Hokay, that's gonna cost ya," Tony said, lifting his hands. "We can lose some Arise, we can lose some Leapfrog, but Zeus, Pyros and uncut Teak? That shit gets noticed, man. I'll have to fiddle the records and maybe share the payout around. Makes things expensive."

"It's okay," you said.

"...so, why the hell does a girl like you want a weapon plasmid? You're, what, eighteen? Nineteen?" Tony asked. The shelves are heavy and stocked with boxes. He ignores all of them and goes for a safe. He punches in the key, then flashes you a wicked grin. "Don't worry, it's my manager's code."

You chuckle, but it's without humor.

"I'm…going to Rapture," you said.

"You? You're going to Rapture?" he asked, laughing as the cabinet opens, revealing frosted containers. They are pale red and glow within. Their plastered on labels are all tiny, and rather than using the brand names, they're covered in medical scribbles. Even from here, the tubes look impossibly big.

"Yeah," you said. "Gonna go treasure hunting."

"You know Rapture's just a city, right?" he asked. "Your chances of getting mugged there's on par with-"

"Just…here," you said, rummaging in your wallet. You slammed down every bit of money you had set aside. "Would you fuckin' kindly give me a goddamn plasmid and stop asking me so many fucking questions?"

Tony lifted his hands, spread them. "Whoa, man. Peace. Peace." He put his palms together. "I guess you're going to Old Rapture, huh?"

Your glinty glare is all that he gets.

He takes the money, counts it, silently.

"That'll get you one," he says, nodding. "Now, without a Mark II or Mark III injection, you can only have one plasmid running in your system at a time. We only got three types that are weapons here - we have Zeus." He takes out a container, setting it down. "This one's pretty simple. You can send out a lightning bolt a pretty long way. It'll knock someone ass over teakettle. Might kill them if they have a bad heart, or if they're in some water. This?" He sets another one out. "Is Pyros. It's…it's pretty nasty. Incineration, sets something to about five hundred degrees. It's supposed to be used for industry and shit, like, welding without tools. But it works pretty good on people if your stomach's cast iron. That's why you gotta have a license from the AWS, ASME, the B-Trust, ya know. Those guys."

He takes out the last.

"And this is teek," he said. "It's pretty basic telekinesis. Ever seen Star Wars? Like that. But faster." His grin is thin. "We've got cases clocking in at an entire goddamn semi-truck, some people swear they've seen higher."

You nod, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Which do you want?" he asked.

—
Choose your Plasmid

[ ] Lightning - Vent 4 heat to apply Electric Shock (1) to all enemies in Area 1 [a room, roughly] with Range 2 [rifle range]. Reduce Vent to add +1 Range, +1 Area per vent reduction.

[ ] Pyros - Vent 4 heat to create Wall of Flame (2) in an Area 1 [a room, roughly] area. Add +1 to area or +2 sparks per vent reduction.

[ ] Telekinesis - Vent 4 heat to launch an object that deals 1 hit Spark with 1 Mass [a few hundred kilos] to a single target in Range 2 [rifle range.] Reduce Vent to add +1 Mass, +1 Range or to throw +1 Object per Vent Reduction

You point with your finger.

"Teek, good choice," he says, nodding. "You know, they're making a mass limited version of this for general purchase." He grinned. "Assuming they can get it to work." He turned his back on you and took out the vial. He didn't immediately load it into a gun. Instead, he started to take out more apparatus - a small plastic case, some needles, and a few cables, which he threaded into a computer built into the back of the store. As the computer clicked and whirred to life, he continued. "Still, basically, we're going to run a quick genetic scan on you - once the gnomes are fixed, the adam can be finally tailored." He flashes a little grin over his shoulder. "You don't want the normal side effects - shakes, dizziness, loss of memory, fainting spells, psychosis-"

You frown at him. "You're not scanning my genetics," you said, softly.

"Jackie, it's standard practice-"

"You're not."

Your voice is very flat.

Tony turns to face you, frowning.

"Ma'am, I am not making a fucking splicer," he says, his polite service-speak mingling with the Rapture jargon that's been bleeding out into the plasmid market. The word splicer makes your skin tingle. It's something you hear on cop shows like Magnum PI, not in real life. "I'll delete the records, okay?"

You breath in.

Out.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

The turbulence of the plane rocks you back and forth. The wings shudder and rain patters against the window pane. A nervous looking stewardess in a bright blouse with white buttons leans in, smiling gently at you. "Ma'am, do you need anything?" she asks, her voice concerned. You hold up a sweaty hand, panting slightly. Your eyes half close as you feel the gurgling, shuddering sensation of your stomach trying to crawl up and out of your throat. The worst part is your temples though. No, no. The worst part was the feeling of your right hand. You had it jammed into your pocket, so no one could see the twisting, distorting ripples of air skimming along your skin. You felt your organs twisting and your head throbbing. You gave the stewardess a thin smile.

"S-Something to drink. Water?"

She nods and then walks back. You look out the window, peeking over the businessman who had the other seat. He was snoring quietly, a sleepmask clamped over his eyes, a bit of drool on his lips.

The plane rocks and jams you back into your seat. The stewardess returns, moving gazelle swift, and places a glass of water in your hands, with a little lid on it to keep it from sloshing. You nodded. "T-Th...Thanks..."

"Don't worry, we're almost out of the worst of it," she says, her voice gentle.

You nod and then down half the drink in one go.

The turbulance lessens. Your sweating doesn't. The fever will break soon. It has too. It has too. You were still surprised you got on the plane - you had been in such a state of headaches and sweats, panting and trembling, but you had managed to pass it all off as being a little hung over. Crawling paranoia, like ants in your brain, had kept whispering that people were going to clock that you had a plasmid, that you were dangerous, carrying a weapon on a plane. Hijackers were still a huge problem, but none of them had involved plasmids yet. Yet. Hah. You weren't going to hijack the plane. It was already going to Rapture.

God...

Your eyes closed.

She smiles at you, gentle and warm. Warm sunlight dapples along your fingers. You're far enough away that Dad won't see. He's...the kind of guy who wouldn't understand. Her finger traces along your wrist, circling around the loops of chain inked in dark gold.

"I wanna tell you a secret..."

She leans in close.

The low ding-dong of the plane's announcer PA jerks you out of your reverie. The speakers are so crummy that the pilot still sounds annoyed, despite their chipper words. "All right ladies and gentlemen. If you would look out the port windows, you will see that we're approaching the Rapture Tender."

You leaned around. Even the businessman tugged his sleepmask up.

The Rapture Tender isn't a ship.

It's not even one or two ships.

It's a fleet of ships. Four aircraft carriers, three ocean liners, and the beginning of the Rapture Platform, all clustered around a single solitary lighthouse that juts from the ocean like some bizarre tombstone. The lighthouse has been fixed up and polished, so it shines even at night, and the lights from the ships gleam bright against the ocean, lighting it up like a bonfire. The aircraft carriers have been cleared of military vehicles, but even with their broad sweeps, only tiny little planes could come in. The really big, really comfortable modern passenger airplanes instead fly to ports and people take the cruise liners out. But you couldn't pay for comfort.

You paid for speed.

The plane looped around. The PA crackled. "Everyone, buckle your secondary seats, this is very rough."

You strapped in. The stewardess then had to come around three times as the plane circled twice - she got two guys to finally buckle their seats and not unbuckle them after a few hissed conversations. You, being strapped in from the beginning, wished you could kill them with your brain. Then you remembered you could.

Finally, the plane came down. Landing on an aircraft carrier felt a hell of a lot like a crash: The entire plane jolted to a stop and slammed you and everyone else forward. A few people screamed, and at least one person started retching, but the extra straps did their jobs and no one broke a bone.

You wondered if the stewardesses were paid extra for this.

You got unstrapped and wobbled into the aisle while other people started to stand. Unlike other passenger planes, no one had been allowed to bring carryon - and considering how hard the stop had been, you couldn't fucking blame them. So, instead, people just started to file off. The businessman yawned behind you, shaking his head.

"Fuck I hate this flight," he muttered under his breath. The pitching of the plane - the ship, actually - almost knocked him off his feet.

The deck of the Minsk was a bit harrowing. Cold wind blew from the sea and the ship rocked around you and some shouting sailors - speaking in accented but understandable English. "This way! This way! Come come!" The passengers were hurried to an cargo elevator that swept them off the deck and into the sparse corridors of the ship, where a very smiling looking, very fit, very Soviet man. He's dressed to the nines in their uniform, and speaks English with only a slight accent.

"Welcome, visitors, welcome," he said. "You have had a long flight, I am sure. Welcome to the New Rapture Economic Zone. I am Commander Sokolov, this welcome to the Minsk. This ship is a part of a joint Soviet-NATO effort to keep Rapture safe and open for commerce and scientific advancement. As American passengers, you will be sent to West Rapture, but presuming travel papers are in order, you can visit East Rapture at any time. However, as a representative of the current military governor of the NREZ, it is my responsibility to ensure that you are aware of all the regulations involving travel in Rapture. There exists three parts of the city. West Rapture and East Rapture, controlled by the two parties of the NREZ, and, finally, Old Rapture. Due to its age and certain shortcuts in its development and construction, Old Rapture is highly dangerous and is not permitted to be visited by anyone without proper authorization. The soldiers and sailors who protect the area do so to keep you safe, not simply to push you around." He flashed a big huge smile. "So please, do not take affront if they attempt to redirect you from the Old Rapture to the New."

"And the splicers, right?" the businessman asked, yawning loudly.

Commander Sokolov's smile got very fixed.

"There are no splicers in Rapture, sir," he said.

The submarine with passengers is utilitarian, sparse, and uncomfortable. You simply strap into a seat with four other people in a cabin, get shown the emergency shit like on a plane - though it feels particularly grim, considering how cold the water is and how far down you're going. There is a very tiny porthole that shows nothing but blackness. You breath slowly, steadily as the submarine starts to go down and down and down. The three others in your cabin are two people who look like scientists and prove it by excitedly sharing their specializations - genetics and deep sea biology - and then begin nattering on about their specifics. The third is a marine with a peppery scar on his dark cheek, who immediately conks out.

You close your eyes.

Almost there.

Almost there.

Just remember...

---
What did you pack?

[ ] You stole a second plasmid - write in a prior choice [START WITH NO WEAPONS]
[ ] You brought a knife. Nice and subtle. Gain a Knife and Assassinate (Vent 4 heat to create 1 Assassinated Spark, +1 per vent reduction)
[ ] You brought a pistol - a revolver, to be specific. Gain a Revolver and Hot Swap (Vent 4 heat to create 6 Hot Swap sparks on yourself or any target within 1 Range. Create +6 per vent reduction, or add to +1 target.)