#bs2 log

It's time to leave this place. I held out hope for months that I'd see my family again, but it seems like this rope is my only ticket to freedom. I'm sure Ryan has seized the bookstore, no telling where Gloria and Billy will have to... live... Can't seem to form a complete thought anymore. Can't sleep with that glow coming in the windows. Things out there watching us. Maybe I'll get to sleep now...

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.

Prison, it seems, was a blessing -- Ryan is now dead by his own son's hand. But far more interesting is the program of compulsion bred into his child, coded "W-Y-K." It was some manner of verbal "trigger phrase," which the boy would obey as an order, unerringly. In a way, this sad thing, this... half-man had 'escaped the self'. Highly intelligent, but devoid of so called "free will," with all its convenient blind spots. What if he had been instructed to uphold the common good? What if he were a volunteer?

This is Eleanor Lamb speaking. It's been many years since my last Diary. Mother found a way to rehabilitate me psychologically, but she can't remove this... this thing inside my body. I look in the mirror, and I see a freak. I remember very little -- just an artificial sense of peace and a compulsive hunger for ADAM. Doctor Alexander is trying to help me adjust. He's responsible for part of my condition, but he wants to make amends.

Well, I'm in -- yours truly is the newest member of the Rapture Family. I fed Wales a line about how the Tribune was stopping me from telling the people what's what -- and without a word, he hands me an invite to this "artist's retreat" here at the park. Lamb bought my frustrated novelist act... she's even sponsorin' me to ink it while I'm here. Except my story's all about her ... and I don't think she's gonna like the way it ends.

Warden, you GOTTA get me in a different cell! Those goddamn lights and... and SHAPES out the window! I can't sleep. I can feel my head shaking apart inside. (brief low mumbling to himself) Something's not right out there, Warden! It's like they're whispering to me. I'd even take solitary over this. Now there's an idea... (chuckling to himself)

Your place of work, when you really love it I mean, becomes a part of you, don't it? For me, that's Persephone. Who's still here, an' been here ever since the start? Me. The occupants of the head office come and go, but in the end they're just a name on a deed. Lamb wants to call these nutters a Family? Fine. Have a ball. I'll be here ready to lock the place down when it all goes tits up.

Doctor Lamb's trying to take the city by sponsoring the artsy types here... big thinkers, to speak out against Ryan in their work. And all of it is right here in the Park galleries, open to the public. Lamb ain't even chargin' for it... and in Rapture that's just... brazen, like some kinda naturist camp where everybody wears pope hats and nothing else! Won't be long before Ryan's cronies can move in... and I can finally stop holding my breath.