Final Investigation

[bathymetric]

Good morning, New Rapture. You may yet see the sun today.

But before that, there's work to be done. The Mayor has sent you some sort of ultimatum, though as usual was reluctant to explain herself. You're going to meet her, to some end? It's unclear. But one way or another, you're aware that things are ending today. Spirits may be low, but at least there's that. After a night of bowling, you're probably ready for this.

As you wake in the morning, though, each suite will find something unexpected in the common area, something that absolutely wasn't there last night: an envelope, addressed to the surviving members. An attached note on the outside reads as follows:

Good morning, citizens of New Rapture. In accordance with new directives from Designations: Misfire, Space Dandy, et al. I have been asked to deliver this. Please use the included to lift your spirits, and feel free to use your new bathysphere access to gain what information you can before you face the Mayor. You know what the key does, I gather, and the card will grant you access to Fontaine Futuristics Headquarters, where the Mayor currently resides. If you do not gather information properly, you will be unable to do what she is about to ask of you. Your friends will be watching.

Included in each envelope is a silver key, a limited Hall of the Founders bathysphere access card, and a copy of this letter. Your friends are counting on you. Go rally in the Hall of the Founders and get ready.

It's time for one last investigation.

Comments

[howveryglib]

I certainly will.

[He’ll go and check the files then!]

[bathymetric]

[ Looks like financial records and contracts in here, at least most immediately! Where would you like to start? ]

[howveryglib]

[OH BOY FINANCES actually you know what he really wants to know if the fucking mandervilles are involved. he doesn't think so but like. what if.]

[bathymetric]

[ No mention of the Mandervilles, but! These are very high-up finances, and they include the wages for all of the Founders. They were being paid a lot of money, but... wait.

There's only wages for 24 of the Founders. ]

[howveryglib]

[...either someone was working for free or someone wasn't actually supposed to be here. he kind of suspects the former, because that seems like this is the sort of place this is.

who doesn't seem to be listed? are all the names we know accounted for?]

[bathymetric]

[ All the names you know are accounted for!

However, on further inspection, there's a sum of about twice as much money as the wages of any given Founder listed as having been spent on... Coding Textbooks? Now that doesn't sound right, does it? ]

[howveryglib]

[ah, Coding Textbooks, the twenty-fifth founder. we did it, we found her name.

...he does just kind of sigh because holy embezzlement, Azure Dragoon. Is there any other Creative Accounting evidence in here...]

[bathymetric]

[ There's a section of money paid to independent contractors, and while it's mostly construction companies and freelancers from New Rapture, there's a notably large charge, near the founding of the city, to R. Lutece and R. Lutece. ]

[howveryglib]

[hm! okay. Those People.

anything else or should he move on to the contracts?]

[bathymetric]

[ That's it for the financial records, yes!

There are a lot of contracts in here, including the one for the Founders! ]

[howveryglib]

[Cool! Time to go through some CONTRACTS!

...he's pretty sure he has someone else handle this for the most part back home... but okay. Founders contracts.]

[bathymetric]

[ So most of it is... boring legalese. Not super interesting. But given what happened to all the Founders, there's a point of interest: ]

In the event of the death of the undersigned, all material wealth will be passed to living descendants per established law. Intellectual property rights and patents, however, will pass to the sole possession of Fontaine Futuristics, Inc.

[howveryglib]

[...

stares into the camera like he's on the office. WHO COULD HAVE SEEN ALL THE MURDER COMING okay he did accept a superweapon from a professional bodyjacker does he really have room to talk.

how many contracts are there.]

[bathymetric]

[ Looks like the individual copies of the contract were property of the individuals or Frank Fontaine himself, this is just an unsigned copy. ]

[howveryglib]

[That does make sense!

All right, is there anything else to see here on this end of things, either today or tomorrow?]

[bathymetric]

[ Tucked in the back of the contracts is what appears to be a work order. In the final months of New Rapture, Frank Fontaine ordered several additional bathyspheres and shut down the Hall of the Founders bathysphere station for extended maintenance. He also set all work contracts, besides the Founders', to terminate on December 31st. ]

[howveryglib]

[ah... yeah... that makes sense. did he actually spare the average workers and send them back to wherever? that's surprisingly less unhinged than he expected... he's going to look and see if he can find any more details on that.]

[bathymetric]

[ There doesn't appear to be particular details on that, but there is an audio log accidentally filed in with this stuff? There's a player in here for like. Archival purposes, for the record. ]

[howveryglib]

[oh boy everyone’s favorite!

He’ll pop that bad boy in and play it.]

[bathymetric]

[ The recording starts with a long pause as someone drops ice into a glass and pours a drink, followed by a heavy sigh from the familiar voice of Frank Fontaine. The real one. ]

Mother Nature may be a fickle and inconvenient bitch, but can’t no one say she’s stupid. When I built my city, I was planting a forest. Twenty-five big ol’ trees, and all the underbrush you could ask for. And the rain and the sun and the plant food was all imported, until we could get going on planting more forests.

But when Mother Nature makes a forest, every once in a while, she burns the whole thing to the ground. Because she has a trick, see. The best food for plants is the plants that died before ‘em. That’s the con of nature - no matter how big you are, how strong you are? One day you’re just gonna be a snack. Slime and ash and nutrients for what comes next.

Sequoia, redwood - no matter how tall you are? You’re gonna fall. Ironwood, Quebracho? Fire’s gonna have its way with you. Because fire’s part of nature, just as much as the green. Fire’s nature’s repo man, because she’s only ever loaning you the life you got. In nature, out in the world, the only one who gets ahead? Well, that’s the big woman herself. Mother Nature ain’t some saintly figure, she’s a fuckin’ loan shark, and we’re all just renting space.

But the trees don’t know that. They think they’re safe, way up high. They think they’re in it for the long haul. Fightin’ every day to survive but it don’t matter a hill of beans when collection comes calling. You fall. Everyone but the boss falls eventually.

So when I built my forest, I followed her example. To make the next trees stronger, you have to scrap the ones you’ve got. Tonight it was the underbrush. Over the next few weeks? I’m gonna watch the rest of the trees topple themselves. Sleep tight, New Rapture.

[howveryglib]

...

What is he even talking about. That is not how it works for...

[SIGH. okay. fuck it. at least he's fucking dead.]