BIOSHOCKED 2, Part 1: A Funny Thing Happened To Me On My Way To The Lighthouse…

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by C. Mage

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I know, I know, it's 1970 and you can't help but ask, what can happen in a decade?

Well, let me tell you, my friends: WORLDS can happen.

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When last you saw me and my family, it was Christmas, 1960 AD. We were in Paris, we were getting married, we were getting ready to live happily ever after, right? Well, problem is, things don't really happen that way...because the story for us didn't end there, and we've been through a few things, made a few discoveries. In March of 1963, Elizabeth and I discovered that something had happened to me in Rapture. I don't know if it was the plasmids or the travelling between worlds, or if it was some other factor I didn't know about. The bottom line was that after three years of trying to have children, I had a doctor tell me that I was sterile. I couldn't have children. Ever. Elizabeth still could...which sorta made it worse. There were a few long nights I've had about that, and it took a few more years to accept it. Eleanor and Sally helped, and it was gratifying to learn that even though I couldn't have children from my own genetics, I still had two wonderful daughters who grew up smart and beautiful and were going to grow up to be world-beaters someday.

In January of 1968, we lost Knuckles. Cancer. At first, we thought it was a parting shot from the ADAM plague, but a doctor confirmed that it had been always inside him. Having the ADAM Plague stopped the clock on it, but the cure ended up killing him. He lasted longer than the doctors thought; they said he had five months to live and he managed to last for a little over two years before that damned cancer chewed him up and spit him out.

In September of 1970, Sally and Eleanor grew up and went off to college. UCLA. Sally majored in Electrical Engineering and Eleanor majored in Genetics. Both of them had grades that earned them both scholarships with ease. We made sure they each had ham radios so we could stay in touch with them.

On November 8th, 1970, Elizabeth and I returned to Rapture. We settled affairs, made sure the girls were taken care of, and had their trust funds arranged in advance. We told people we were going on a world cruise, found a nice cheap boat, scuttled it after we got back to the lighthouse, and headed back down to where it all started. We didn't tell anyone we were coming, wanted to make sure we'd be able to see the truth of what was happening down there.

As we made the trip down, minus Ryan's stupid speech this time, Elizabeth turned to me. She wasn't as fresh-faced as the day we met; a few laugh-lines, the beginnings of crow's-feet, but she was still beautiful by any description...and she would always be in my eyes. Those wide blue eyes didn't seem as wide now. Too many years, too many hardships. "Are you all right with this?" she asked me.

"Yes. I mean, why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, it's a little early for you to be suffering any memory loss just yet…"

I chuckled. "I remember what happened down there. Bad and good. And I wanted to come. We've had ten years to see the world...that and a few others. We've climbed mountains, swam in every sea there was, crossed deserts, visited lost cities, learned all kinds of things. If there's a place on this world we haven't explored somehow in some way, I'm hard-pressed to think of it."

I looked out the window. The lights were definitely on. "Looks like people are still home. Time to find out if we're going to be getting a warm reception...or a cold one."

"Look." Elizabeth pointed to where other bathyspheres were seen migrating between districts. "Doesn't look like this place is on lockdown. That's a good sign."

"It is...hey, there's the port for the Welcome Center."

A new, male voice could be heard on the Service Radio next to the doorway. "Bathysphere #42, this is Rapture Traffic Control. Identify yourself, please."

I couldn't help myself. "Mark and Elizabeth Jacobs. We just flew in from New York, and BOY, are our arms tired."

Silence for a few moments. "Say again? It sounded like you just said you were…"

"Mark and Elizabeth."

"...holy shit. Uhm, I mean, there will be a party waiting for you at the Welcome Center," the voice said quickly.

"Thank yew," I said with a smile, then I noticed Elizabeth smirking at me. "Yes?"

"You enjoyed that, didn't you?" she said, cocking an eyebrow.

"Like you wouldn't believe."

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As we rose and exited the bathysphere with our luggage, we saw people at the transit station, dressed in uniforms. They looked like the local constabulary, which was was a good sign. Or, depending on who was in charge, a bad one. "Excuse me, but could we get a skycap?" I asked nonchalantly.

The officers turned, then stared at me. Finally, one of them said, "Neptune's BALLS, it's THEM!" He ran over to us, holstering his weapon and bowing. "Welcome, Mark and Elizabeth! You're back!"

Elizabeth turned to look at me, that smirk was back. "And you were worried that they wouldn't be happy to see us."

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By the time someone else showed up, Elizabeth and I had time to take a good look around the transit station, and so far, things looked promising. The chamber was brightly lit, and the damage and leaks evident the first time I'd come through were gone. The place looked brand-new, as if the Rapture War never happened.

I turned as I saw three more bathyspheres surface. The first two contained people in civilian clothes, none of whom I recognized, but the third held three people I had no trouble recognizing. Julie Langford, Charles Milton Porter...and Sander Cohen. I could feel Elizabeth tense next to me as she saw Cohen. "Steady on, Elizabeth, it's been a decade," I whispered.

"I know," she whispered back, but the tension didn't go away.

"Well, well...shame on you, you never call, you never write…" Julie said, but she was smiling when she said it. "Welcome back to Rapture, you two. Just popped by for a visit, or did you two finally come to your senses and decide to stay?"

"Actually, Julie," Elizabeth said, "we came here to stay for a while."

"Excellent! Sander, is Ryan's old place in Olympus Heights still available?"

"As far as I know." His voice definitely sounded different than the old, imperious Sander Cohen I remembered.

"Julie, before you start rolling out the red carpet and giving us the key to the city," I interjected, "we want to be private citizens, with no special favors. We're not looking to be part of the upper class. Besides, let's face it, all we brought with us is what you see here."

"That's not entirely accurate." Milton was smiling gently. "Ever since you left, there's been many changes, but no one has forgotten the risks you took and what you endured for the sake of Rapture, so people have been donating a little here, a little there. After ten years of this, you've amassed quite a respectable fortune, one we've held in trust until your return."

"Really?" I turned to Elizabeth. "Well, at least we won't have to worry about making our first month's rent." I looked up as I saw Sander Cohen walking towards us. "Uh, yes?"

"I wanted to apologize for all the trouble I've caused. I've been undergoing therapy under Dr. Lamb, and she's helped me understand the sins I've committed. I know I can never atone for all the damage I've done, but I wanted to let you both know how truly sorry I am, and hope that you can find it in your hearts to forgive me someday."

THAT blew me right out of the water. I didn't think I'd ever hear those words from Sander Cohen, of all people. I nodded and offered my hand. "Sander, I forgive you."

He blinked, then turned to Elizabeth. She nodded, and added, "I...forgive you, too, Sander. You seem to be working hard to atone, and I know what it means to try to rebuild a life."

He smiled at that, then nodded as he stepped back to make way for Julie. "So, since it doesn't look like you're looking to join the idle rich, what sort of work did you have in mind?"

"We're hoping to see what's available."

"And how are the kids?"

I felt Elizabeth's eyes on me and I said calmly, "Could we continue this in private? There's a lot that's been going on."

Julie nodded and turned to two of the policemen. "Boys, help them with their luggage." The policemen jumped to the task readily. The looks on their faces suggested they thought it was some kind of honor or privilege to do so. "Come on. With your available funds, you could buy Ryan's property out of petty cash. Consider it ten years of back wages, including hazard pay...in SPADES."

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We got to Ryan's place, and it seemed bigger than I remembered. We sat down, our welcome party and us, and Elizabeth and I explained what had gone on in the past ten years. When they heard about me not being able to have kids, Julie, Milton and Sander were equally contrite. "Sorry to hear that, Mark. And I'm sorry for asking like that, I feel like an idiot."

"It's okay," I said, lying a little. "Besides, Sally and Eleanor have been wonderful children, and they've brought us a lot of joy." We continued on about our travels, some of the adventures we'd had. We then told them about the kind of exploring we'd done. "What happened to me in Columbia changed me, and Elizabeth has been helping me understand what it is I can do. I can see and open tears, and I have some sort of navigation-sense that helps me understand the places we can go, the things I can do. I haven't done much of that, baby steps, after all. But I'm hoping that I can use that to help out somehow. Also, there's the knowledge Elizabeth and I have, and she and I were thinking of opening up a detective agency."

"Hmm. That actually sounds like a good idea, considering how things have been going in Rapture."

"How ARE things in Rapture?" Elizabeth asked.

"Well, after you left, I got picked as Leader Emeritus and we drew up a constitution and laws, basing it on the American government. We have a President, a City Court and a Council with representatives from each district. We drafted a police force, answerable to a Commissioner who acts under the guidance of the City Court. They maintain the peace. We keep the security measures in place, mostly the cameras, to make sure not only to police the citizens, but also to keep the police honest. Believe you me, we spent just over a year getting everything straight. The businesses have a ruling body, called the Corporate Council. They maintain proper business practices, even have their own civilian populations and their own security forces, take care of everything in-house, although they are still beholden to the City Police. God forbid they go back to where they were before, answerable only to themselves. It hasn't been perfect, though. There's still crime and wrongdoing, and Persephone is almost half-filled with criminals, not just the ones punished by the Great Trial of 1960. But there's still plenty of good people who appreciate what's been done here."

"Is Ryan still in prison?"

"Nope. He didn't last three years. Hung himself in his cell one day. He was pretty far gone by that point, spent some time in therapy, but he couldn't handle the idea that 'his' city would get along just fine without him and his 'Great Chain'. Made an interesting discovery. Turns out there are actually times when noisemakers and party favors are appropriate for a funeral."

"OUCH...that's a little harsh, don't you think?" I said, a little taken aback.

"Considering what he'd done, there are many who would disagree most strenuously," Milton said somberly.

"What about the others? Alexander, Sinclair?"

"Still in business, although they're not as rich as they used to be. They learned some time back that having to pay people a fair wage can really eat into one's profits. You two are probably worth more than them. However, they're still in the engineering business. Just because ADAM doesn't work on people any more doesn't mean they can't use it for developing other products. Alexander has gone heavily into medical research, where Sinclair has been cornering the marketing on electronics, computation devices and robotics. Enough of the smaller companies have been developing similar technologies to prevent a monopoly, and it's illegal in Rapture for larger companies to buy up smaller ones without the unanimous approval of the Corporate Council. We're doing our best to make sure this city isn't run by greed like it once was. Hey, speaking of Old Home Week, how's Brigid doing?"

"Oh, she opened a hospital in France, and all the girls who used to be Little Sisters now work for her as nurses and doctors. with a few exceptions who decided to go to college to work in other fields. She doesn't work with genetics anymore, except for a couple of gene therapy research projects, and she couldn't be happier."

"Now, you said that you've been experimenting with tears. What have you been doing with that?"

"Funny you should ask." Elizabeth was smiling. "The first adventure we had with that was on our honeymoon…"

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JANUARY 16, 1961

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I woke up the next afternoon, slowly looking over at where Elizabeth was snoozing. The sun was high and the room was quite warm, though I suspect it had a lot to do with what we were doing last night. We spent the night with slightly more experience than the last time...which also happened to be our first time...and found out more about the way our desires were wired. Couldn't believe some of the stuff she wanted to try...and found it harder to believe how arousing that stuff was.

Emphasis on the word, "harder".

She stirred, then opened her eyes slowly. "...mmmmmmmmmmmm…" Elizabeth said, stretching in a way that made me more alert than any coffee ever brewed, then settling back into my arms. "Good morning."

"Well, it is NOW." I smiled. God, six months ago, I never thought I'd ever be with a woman this amazing. And now, I couldn't think of life without her. "Knuckles has been watching the kids. Think we should rescue him?"

Elizabeth smiled and snuggled in. "Of course. In a minute."

"Elizabeth...I saw something when we went to the Eiffel Tower two days ago. A tear. Something that showed the Tower, but with Nazi swastikas hanging from it."

She sat up and looked at me. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I can't shake the feeling that it's something we should look into, at the very least."

Her face was solemn as she nodded. "Come on, get dressed. We've got a full day ahead of us….and after the children go to bed, we're going to have a full night, too."

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We spent the day at the Louvre, looking at all the different works of art. Elizabeth mentioned as we looked at Michaelangelo's "David", "You get the feeling that Mike may have had an attraction to the model for this?"

"Your mind goes to odd places sometimes, you know that?"

"Part of my charm," she replied, smiling winningly.

We continued through the Louvre, managed to make it through more of the massive museum than we expected. By the time we got home, Eleanor and Sally were tuckered out and we hustled them off to bed.

Then we got to work.

I put on a plain-looking suit, with obscure enough lines so it wouldn't stand out. Elizabeth wore a simple dress and coat with a furred hood, and I wore a fedora. We packed up our usual tools, her with her crossbow and packs of darts, and me with a revolver with a screw-on silencer, as well as a few other tools with adjustable settings, and two small radios, products of modern technology.

So prepared, we headed for the Eiffel Tower.

We chose to go in at night, to make it easier for us to keep from being spotted going through the tear and less likely to be spotted coming out on the other side. Our clothes were dark blue and black, making us even harder to see, and were also reversible, so we could provide a means of evading capture if we were followed.

We got to the location and there it was. "Can you see it?" I asked.

She shook her head. "I can't. I lost that ability back when I was 'reborn' in Rapture."

"I can see it. Okay...tell me how to open it and how to get us through it."

"You need to focus on the tear. Think of it as parting a curtain; moving your hands through it. You'll know you're doing it right if you feel the resistance in the air, like a membrane. It'll give at first, but it'll quickly build resistance, until it'll require real strength to push aside."

I nodded. It took me over an hour to figure out what to concentrate on, but once I did, it became easier to move the tear, manipulate it. As I touched it, I felt the resistance, heard a slight buzzing in my ear that grew louder the more I tried to "push aside the curtain". She was right about the resistance, too…

And before I knew it, we were through.

It seemed darker somehow. We looked around, expecting to see checkpoints and armed guards, but there was nothing like that here. I turned quickly, suddenly worried, and found that I didn't need to be. Elizabeth was right there. "Wowsers…" I said. "It sure is a lot different than the last time."

"Come on. Let's see what the situation is."

"Lead on, Elizabeth."

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Dawn came all too quickly, and we kept ourselves busy walking, keeping an eye out for guards, patrols, and other signs of occupation. Apart from the flags and bilingual signs, there was nothing to suggest Nazi oppression.

We stopped off at a cafe, and Elizabeth had taken the precaution of making an exchange of francs for marks yesterday. As it turned out, they were good either way. In fact, they were surprisingly cheerful. This place was starting to seem less and less like enemy occupation. "Elizabeth?" I asked over croissants and cheese.

"Yes?" she asked, her expression calm, but her voice guarded.

"I think we need to look deeper."

She nodded. "Something is definitely off. Look at these people. Most people in a conquered country tend to look down, or stay off the streets. These people look forward, and seem actually happy, for the most part. The smiles and expressions don't look painted on."

"Right. Feel like checking out a few periodicals?"

"Love to….after breakfast. Walking around all night was tiring, and I may ask for more coffee. How are you doing?"

"Post-War France is much less stressful than Post-Civil War Rapture."

She nodded, then took another sip. She smiled slightly. "Oh, if I told you how much I appreciate this coffee, it'd be cold by the time I was done."

"Drink up. I want to stop by the Tower, make sure our exit route is still there."

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Passing by the Tower was a relief, I could still see the tear, plain as day, even though no one else could. We found the nearest library and went inside, keeping an eye out along the way.

The first thing we noticed was a notable lack of propaganda, the usual ads providing rewards for abhorrent behavior. Apart from some inspirational murals, showing the triumph of Nazi Germany, that was it. Second, the place was still filled with artists and painters, but the subject matter didn't seem political.

Once we got to the periodicals, though, things became a LOT clearer.

We poured through a few decades' worth of books and compared notes. In this reality, the Nazis weren't the main aggressors. The FRENCH were. We kept reading, finding out that the French had, under a very warlike Charles De Gaulle, expanded on a campaign of aggression that nearly swallowed up Europe. England, their first target, quickly fell under De Gaulle's surprise attacks, and with their resources, the French moved east, pretty much steamrollering anyone who got in their way, right until they got to Germany. The leader of the ruling party, Adolf Hitler, rallied the nearby countries to try and stop the French, While Stalin hung back, waiting for the French to blunt their swords on the French, Hitler petitioned the Americans for help. The Normandy Invasion did happen, but it was a more direct assault on the French High Command.

I stared at the words, checking with Elizabeth. "Is this on the level?"

"Seems to be. There's too much documentation for it all to be a lie."

"But how?"

She shrugged. "Variables and constants."

"UN-believeable. Here I was thinking that we'd be going in and rallying against the Nazis, only to find out that they're the Guys In The White Hats this time around."

"Eye-opening, isn't it?"

I stared at Elizabeth. "Did you know this was going to happen?"

"No, but I knew there was a chance that it would."

My stare grew more pronounced. "WHY?" I said in a low, intense whisper, because, well, I WAS still in a library.

"One of the things I learned the hard way is that, when travelling through tears, you can't take realities for granted. You assumed that, because there were Nazis in France, that they were the enemy, the invaders and conquerors. That assumption could've resulted in a great deal of trouble, especially if you decided to become hostile, even though there was never any reason to be."

That got my attention. My imagination started pulling up all kinds of worst-case scenarios, or worse, hurting someone who was one of the Good Guys. It was sobering, to say the least. "I'm going to be getting all kinds of little lessons like this, aren't I?"

"Only if you insist on checking out tears." She smiled. "Come on. If we hurry, we can make it back in time for lunch."

I looked around at the books, wondering what other information lay within those books that would blow my mind. "Let's go."

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Julie sat back in her chair, looking at us. "Some adventure there, kids. Not many adventures like those come with morals to the stories."

"Yeah, and believe me, that wasn't the first time," I said simply.

"There's more?" Sander asked.

"Much more," Elizabeth said, but I could tell she was still reluctant to talk in front of Sander Cohen.

"You know...your adventures would make for good reading. You should consider documenting your adventures over the past ten years."

"Who'd believe them?" I said, thinking aloud.

"Mark, your readers just survived a genetic war in a city under the ocean. What's 'unbelievable' is not as unbelievable as you might think."

"But I'm no writer…"

"The Thinker can be programmed to act as a secretary, and electronically transfer your words to a form that can be easily edited, then printed. It's a new function I've been wanting to stress-test, and your experiences would provide an ideal experiment," Milton added with a smile.

I turned to Elizabeth. "What do you think, hon?"

"It might be interesting, at that." She nodded to me. "But we're co-writing this. You have a tendency to exaggerate, Mark."

"Everything I say is the complete, unvarnished truth!" I said indignantly.

"Everything?" Julie asked with a smirk on her face.

"Well, as an old western star once put it, 'give or take a lie or two'."

"That's what I thought." Julie looked at the clock. "Come on, it's getting late. We'll come by in the morning, I want to hear more about your adventures, and I'm sure you'll be getting some more visitors soon enough."

"Thanks," I said, wondering if I should be looking forward to it or not. After they left, I got up out of my chair, walking over to one of the windows and looking out at the sea. Elizabeth walked up next to me and I asked, "We did the right thing, coming back here, right?"

"It's really the best place, now. Sally and Eleanor, they were born here, but this place would've never been their home. They needed to see the sun, live their lives. But for us...this is where we belong. Always a city...always a lighthouse…" She stopped and I looked down at her to see her looking up at me. "Always a man. We're guardians now, Mark. We always have been. If Sally or Eleanor choose that path, we can't stop them, but we had to give them other choices."

"I know. It's just…hard sometimes to accept it."

"Let's get ready for bed, get some sleep. You'll feel better in the morning. You always do."

She left my side, but I stood there for a few moments, looking at the city. Andrew Ryan had always called Rapture HIS city. Now...it felt like the city was mine. Not mine in the sense that I owned it, God forbid, but I felt like I belonged here more than I did topside. Not hard to figure out why; I'd bled and gone through more here in a month than I did in the years before I came here.

I made a couple of changes to the furniture layout and the room features, then I went to the desk nearby and sat down, writing up a list of things to do the next day, hoping that would help me feel tired. I barely got through five sentences before it worked its magic on me, and I went to bed, sliding in next to Elizabeth.

My last thought before falling asleep was, I was home.

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I woke up a few hours later, but not because I wanted to.

I didn't hear the attempts to hack the lock for the door, nor did I hear the door open or the footsteps coming up the stairs. What I did hear were the three men hitting the floor and coming face to face with the crossbow rig a few feet away, loaded with a gas bolt. While they were rendered unconscious, Elizabeth and I woke up as soon as we heard the racket, and I got out of bed, pistol in hand, and waited for the gas to dissipate. Ten years of going to new places in uncertain times taught us the value of coming up with our own means of enforcing home security. We didn't speak, didn't have to. We'd had a lot of practice knowing what to look for. I tossed her what I found on them as I start hogtying them, hands behind their back, tied to their ankles. There were three of them, so I made some improvised ball-gags and muffled them.

While I was doing that, Elizabeth had detached the crossbow from the trap and moved to the door, opening it just a crack to see if they had reinforcements. I tried to ignore the fact that the only thing she was wearing at the time was a stern expression and I was successful. Mostly.

"Clear," she said matter-of-factly, coming back to the nearby table where we'd dumped the contents of their pockets.

"Dear?" I asked.

"Yes?" she asked casually.

"Would you mind putting a robe on? You know how distracted I get when you're like that."

"Of course I know. Why do you think I keep doing it?" Now she was wearing just a smirk.

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By the time she'd come back, I'd arranged the contents out on the desk. There wasn't much to them; no IDs of any kind, a couple of knives, some bullets for reloading, but the only other contents was pocket lint. "Looks like someone in Rapture isn't very happy to see us. No IDs. If these bozos came up with the idea on their own, they wouldn't have needed to worry about being identified. Someone put them up to this."

"Wonderful. Any chance they just forgot their IDs at home?"

"Any chance we're that lucky?" I replied. She shook her head. "Yeah. Looks like we're not universally cherished here in Rapture. Any thoughts on who might be responsible?"

Elizabeth snorted, "The line for THAT forms at the left."

"There is one thing." I picked up one of the items, a pin with a blue butterfly on it. "One of them had this pinned to the inside of his jacket."

Elizabeth took the pin, turning it over in her fingers. "Might just be a decoration of some kind."

"If so, why was it on the INSIDE of his jacket?"

Elizabeth nodded. "That bothered me as well. And since the man brought it with him but didn't bring identification, it must be something of some significance to him."

I nodded. "Come on, let's get some sleep. The others are coming over tomorrow and setting up the connection to the Thinker. What story should we tell them next?"

"How about in chronological order?"

"Oh, we could tell it in any order we liked," she commented. "Could always edit it later."

"Oh, I think the Thinker won't be the only ones listening to us talk. Gotta be fair to our audience."

"Fair point. Come on, Mark, let's go back to bed."

"You go ahead. I've got to put these guys somewhere secure….and uncomfortable."

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When Julie, Milton and Sander returned, they walked in to find the three men trussed up by the door, bound and gagged. "What in the name of George Babbage…?" Milton asked, staring openly.

"Hello there." I looked up from where Elizabeth and I were enjoying some coffee. "I'd like to introduce you to the guys who came by unannounced earlier this morning. MUCH earlier."

Julie didn't waste any time, going to the phone and dialing. "Police desk? Send some men to the old Ryan residence. We've got a case of attempted assault, maybe attempted murder. Thank you." She hung up the phone and turned to us, shaking her head. "Making friends and influencing people again?"

"I'm getting the feeling we're not wanted here," I said dryly.

"Any idea who they are or who sent them?" Milton asked as he and three of his technicians started setting up the terminal to directly access the Thinker, along with the attachments.

"None," I said.

"But I have a feeling we'll find out soon enough," Elizabeth added. I couldn't help but agree.

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The woman saw her door open, one of her subordinates coming through. "The team did not succeed," he said simply. "Are there further orders?"

"No. They shall be off-balance, suspicious, unaware who they can trust." She smiled. "Let them fumble about in the dark a while longer, wonder when the next attack is, wonder where it will come from. We have time...and will achieve our goals in due course, and not before."

The man nodded, then left. The woman sat there in the dim light for a time, then looked over at an object that had been sitting on her desk for a very long time. An adjustable wrench, stained brown.

"Soon. Very soon...the WYK solution will be at hand."

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TO BE CONTINUED….