March 12, 1962-

San Francisco Chronicle

In an announcement that both baffled and shocked press, Jack Ryan, the sole owner of the city-state Rapture, refused to allow diving crews to visit the undersea metropolis. When questioned about the decision, Ryan stated that "[t]he city is unsafe and has suffered a cataclysmic natural disaster. I only barely managed to escape with a handful of citizens. The rest of the populace is dead, and the city is now completely flooded and uninhabitable."

Several private investors expressed their desire to buy the salvage rights to Rapture, but again Ryan refused. "The city is dangerous," he told the Chronicle on Monday. "And waivers or no, I don't want to be responsible for anyone else dying down there."

Because Rapture was built in international waters, there can be no writ to force Ryan to allow salvage teams or even government officials into the city for an inquest. The mystery of the famed city beneath the waves will remain solely in Jack Ryan's keeping.

~*~

June 5, 1980

Pasadena, California

"...more than fifteen years. The team is expected to launch next week, with famous diver Henri Court leading the expedition. There are still no reports of whether this will be a simple survey or..."

"Joany, c'mere." Paulette's eyes were riveted on the living room TV as she called back into the other woman's bedroom. "Check it out."

From her room, Joan coughed lightly and moved to the doorway to stand and look over her roommate's shoulder. She had a toothbrush clutched in a slender hand, and the other held the doorframe lightly. "What is it?" she asked.

"It's Jack," Paulette replied quietly.

Joan silently exited the bedroom and moved around the corner of the couch, taking a seat on its end beside Paulette. They both sat in silence, looking at a wharf, a bubble-blonde pattering into a microphone, and a subtitle that bore only two words:

'Rapture Revisited'

"Oh, my God," exhaled Joan.

Without having to be told, Paulette leaned and picked up the phone to hand to Joan.

~*~

In Beacon Hill, Bridgette Tenenbaum slowly closed the door to the study, and turned to regard the man who sat with his head in his hands. She may have looked less than a decade older than Jack Ryan, but few knew she was almost thirty years his senior. The appearance made the actions of the truth a little strange. She came and rested a lined hand on his shoulder, her voice soft and resonant, the intrusion of her German accent only making her seem older. "They were always greedy buzzards," was her derisive comment, "but you had to tell the press sooner or later, Jack."

The man lifted his head, his face careworn and bleak in expression. "I know," he murmured. "I just wish I'd never agreed to this whole thing. It's a bad idea, Bridge. A bad idea. No-one should be going down there. Not ever. I should call the whole thing off."

"But this is exactly what you must not do," replied Tenenbaum earnestly. "The wolves, they get hungrier every day. They wait for the day you are dead, so they may bite into what they think is the salvage of the century. And if they go down there unaware, if they go without you guiding them...no, this must not be. Now is the time to face this, Jack." She leaned to press her cheek to his head comfortingly. "And I will stay by you."

Jack sighed lightly, but his hand came to lay over the woman's. "Thanks, mom," he said quietly. "That helps."

The phone rang and broke the still moment of peace. With a sigh, Bridgette leaned and lifted the receiver, tucking it under her ear. "Hello?"

"Momma? It's Joany."

Jack watched Tenenbaum's whole face light up. "But, my darling, this is wonderful to hear from you! Obviously you have seen the television report. This is why you are calling."

"Yes, momma. I wanted to talk to Jack. Is he...is he okay?" Joan's voice seemed thin on the line.

Bridgette reached for a pack of cigarettes and tapped one into the crook between two fingers, nodding. "He is fine. Well, we both do not like this attention. You are the only one of the girls to call. You are a good girl, Joany."

Joan sighed. "I doubt Maggie or Masha want anything to do with this. Susie and Betsy, well, I can try to call them, momma..."

"No, my darling," said Bridgette on an exhaled plume of smoke. "They have no need to be dragged through this." Jack watched Tenenbaum's hands flex involuntarily and he saw the old pain come into her eyes. Twenty-one girls, and the state took all but five from them. Two of those five had come to despise their surrogate mother; two more barely kept in contact, though they were close to Joan. Only Joany had braved a real relationship with Brigette. Jack pitied the other four – they had missed out on a great and loving mother.

"I want to come out there," Joan stated firmly. "I don't want you and Jack to be on your own for this. And I...I want to know what happens. It's important."

Bridgette smiled softly. "My brave Joany," she said tenderly. "Yes, of course you may come to us. We would be happy to see you. When can you leave?"

Jack was listening all the while, his eyes still fixed on the desk.

"Now," Joany answered. "I'll get the first flight out."