There truly are no Gods or Kings down here, so I praise whichever man left a bathysphere outside Hephaestus. There was a tense moment earlier when the lever wouldn’t budge. Ryan’s genetically-locked travel arrangements may have their bugs, but are still fairly reputable. Happily, none foresaw the arrival of sonic technology. One little hack and there’s a lot of ocean going past the window.
All I have for this upward trip are my thoughts. Which, at any other time, I wouldn’t mind. But given recent events, I’d give my top hat to silence the monologues going on underneath it.
My morality keep complaining, like it’s indecisive. Until now, I believed to have a grasp of “right and wrong”, but Rapture smashed that right up. Survival down there won’t come easily. Some part of your brain has to accept little girls being chemical factories is okay. That “Say No To Drugs” is a suicide note. And murder is much more than a second nature.
Womble asked me, very soon after we arrived, why I brought us here. I didn’t answer then. But I have one for him now, wherever he is. We should remember our time here. How we learnt about choice, how lives look without it, and sometimes there is no right answer. Only the final outcome.
Something tells me this will become more important someday soon. Womble said it well. Flash forwards…
Ahh, I need a distraction. My mind can continue trying to discover some new form of reasoning. In the here and now, I need a new swish bit of kit. With a combination of my TARDIS key and sonic, I should be able to reposition the TARDIS externally. Have it ready and waiting at the lighthouse, for instance.
I’m not entirely sure if it’ll work on relocating Womble too, but I trust his resourcefulness, and I’ve left him some form of message. We’ll be reunited, eventually; he with a tale to tell, no doubt.
Right now, what I’m looking forward to, most of all, is fresh air.