Sea of DreamsMature

Eleanor found herself doing allot of reflecting on her actions as of late, as she sat on her bed, waiting for sleep to claim her. However, it seemed, sleep wasn't all that interested in finding her tonight.

The day before would forever be etched into her memory, she knew for a fact. The day she lost father. The day she first saw the sun. The day her mother died. The first time that she'd killed someone. And now the terrible uncertainty of what to do mixed with all the anger and loneliness that followed. Not to mention the state that they were having to live in.

The explosion that had nearly killed her and her father before they even stepped foot onto the boat had been devastating. It blew a section of the hull clean off, letting ocean water rush in. The airlocks had kicked in, but a moment too late. The water had flooded the engine housing and shorted it out, and since the engine doubled as their generator, they had no radio. The measly bit of frozen food on board was spoiled. The infirmary was useless, unless somehow a bandage could help with internal bleeding.

She was stuck in her Big Sister suit, as for obvious reasons, she couldn't have exactly packed a suitcase to take with her. Not that she minded too terribly much. It made her feel safe, and it reminded her of father. And surprisingly enough, even though it was near indestructible, it was pretty comfortable. She could only guess why that was, though being who she was, they were very good guesses.

It must have been nearly midnight when her eyes finally closed, and her troubled thoughts slipped into even more disturbing dreams.

Her mother sat on one side of the table, and herself at the other. But she was younger. How young, she wasn't sure. A voice recorder added the only background noise as the wheels of tape inside turned.

Her mother spoke without even looking at Eleanor, like she wasn't even there. She might as well have been a house plant.

"Rapture... The keenest minds in the world, united under the ocean, yet somehow expected to subscribe to the same model of self-interest? Ryan could be staggeringly naive. As individuals, no matter how brilliant, each was a prisoner to his or her own ego; a sea of dreams in constant flux. But in Adam, their genes remain, ready to be tested against a moral vessel. Utopia cannot precede the Utopian. It will exist the moment we are fit to occupy it."

Then the tape recorder stopped turning, and a horrible static rang through the air. Eleanor held her ears, her eyes scrunched up, but still the noise was overbearing. She opened her eyes just in time to see the lifeless form of her mother, a trickle of blood flowing from her mouth.

Eleanor literally jumped awake, falling onto the floor, the sheet seeming to have a mind of their own as they wrapped themselves around her. After a moments struggle, she righted herself, only to realize that the static buzz of the tape recorder was still playing. Either it was coming from somewhere around her, or the stress was finally getting to her.

She looked at the radio with a glimmer of hope burning in her chest, but the familiar icy hand extinguished it as she saw there was still no power. So where was it coming from?

There was a louder burst of static, and then another. Is that... a voice?  She listened more intently to the popping of the static, and sure enough, she could make out words. Maybe not sentences, but definitely words.

"... Come... there?... Hear me?"

Eleanor tried to locate the sound, finding herself staring at her nightstand, where her Big Sister helmet lay. Could there really be...? She couldn't dare to hope again, but she reached out and picked it up, slipping it over her head. Instantly it was like she was standing in the room with someone. Someone with a strong German accent. And someone who sounded like their patience was being stretched thin.

"I repeat, this is Brigid Tenenbaum! Sinclair, do you read me?"

"Tenenbaum?" Eleanor asked, unsure if it would be received or not.

"Fräulein Lamb?" She seemed shocked, but quickly recovered and sent over a hurried message. "Explain later. Listen: I'm trapped in my submersible. There's an army of Splicers outside. They found where we've been hiding, and they all want the Adam. The airlock doors are holding, for now. But that won't last forever. My engine is a wreck, thanks to your mother, and I don't have the parts to fix it. Please, for the children, you must come!"

Eleanor was wracking over all of the information she'd just gotten in such a small package. Mostly though, the part about the engine. She thought it over for only a few seconds, then responded with a tone of absolute certainty.

"Even if I didn't owe you, I'd still help. But my engines are shot." On the other end, there was a German word spoken that Eleanor didn't know. That was probably a good thing. "But Sinclair has plenty of parts on here. I think he was planning on selling off all of Rapture's technology once he got to the surface. The problem is, I never learned much about engines. I have no idea how to fix it."

There was a rush of static, then a few moments of silence. Eleanor realized she was holding her breath, but letting it go seemed like she might jinx something. There was a low buzzing sound, but not from the radio. A flood light on her helmet switched on, them off. Then, finally, a camera whirred to life.

"I can see what you see, Eleanor. Show me how bad they are, and I'll see what I can do."

The End

4 comments about this story Feed