Mr. Porter, let me be the first to congratulate you on the founding of Rapture Central Computing. The Great Chain only grows stronger with each pair of hands laid upon it. I trust that you and I will choose to pull Rapture in the same direction.

Porter, it has come to my attention that a certain... prominent bronze figure has been installed in Minerva's Den. An original cast from the mold, no less. Such indulgence leaves a trail. If that costly little souvenir brings the Looters sniffing to my door, and I am forced to gun them down... it will be at your feet that I lay the blame.

Andrew Ryan - The Man and the Machine

I must keep an eye on Porter and his... thinking machine. There's more than one way to muscle out a rival, and I suspect that Fontaine is vying for market dominance in... computing now as well. Each hour that contraption spends crunching genetic code for Fontaine brings my city one step closer to dissolution... And if Porter should begin dancing to that hoodlum's tune... Well... the machine is a marvel. Invaluable. The man... may prove obsolete.

Rapture is at war, Porter... and you have cast your lot with the enemy. Your concerned associates provided me with a recording of your own voice, swearing loyalty to Fontaine and his gangsters - evidence of treason. My men are already on their way. The Thinker no longer needs you; take pride in that. Mr. Wahl is qualified to ensure that it is used in the city's best interest. Eventually, a man's dream exceeds him, and his work becomes his legacy. For you, Charles, that hour has come.

A pair of thugs came into the Archives today and started calling up codes from all over Rapture. People's private possessions, just rifling through them! Said they were Ryan security, that they were doing "maintenance" on the pneumatic system. Maintenance?! Hah! Isn't the point of the Archives to keep your things safe from prying eyes?

ADAM is a predatory substance. After exposure, a constant supply is required to maintain its effects; otherwise the user deteriorates into madness. My Plasmid which releases the Little Ones from their servitude is promising, but limited; it only works on the children with the slugs in their bellies. On an adult Splicer or Big Daddy you see rejection effect. Undesirable. But if the deterioration of mind und body were reversible-if ADAM sickness could be cured -- then its predatory nature would be no more...

I have begun testing a new approach to the Splicing Sickness problem. ADAM remembers, you see. The method uses the ADAM own 'recall' of past cell configurations to revert each of the patient's genetic changes - with one final dose, we return the patient to his former self! It is only theory: the number of potential bonding sites for even a single test is innumerable, and I cannot calculate alone. But I have heard of an adding machine at the heart of the city, beyond the capability of any device the world has known. Perhaps... if I could harness its power...

After some searching, I made contact with Charles Milton Porter in Minerva's Den. A productive exchange, clearly Rapture is no place to continue my research. But Porter says that if he can find a way to return to the surface along with the programming for his mainframe, we could then rebuild the machine and work together towards the cure. I have located an Alpha Series to assist him... "Subject Sigma". I must return to the surface. If Sigma is successful in Minerva's Den... then the cure for ADAM's curse is on its way. It is only a matter of time.

Hey Felix, I hear Porter is really happy about the new trajectory calculation routine. You know, the one that we worked on for six months? The one you took all the credit for? Oh, that reminds me; if you're looking for the key to your brand new office, you might want to check in the Circus of Values down the hall. Hope you brought your milk money, asshole.

Mr. Ryan hired me to build a computer that could keep an entire city running on time: the Rapture Operational Data Interpreter Network. Folks call it "The Thinker" for short. We've harnessed the power of ADAM even in this, allowing the mainframe to process data at the speed of thought. In other words, it thinks for us, yes... and with the completion of the Independent Reasoning Processor, it may finally think... for itself. If Turing could see me now...

That first year in London, working for Turing... I didn't see Pearl much. Spent all day and night in a government compound, building a computer to crack the Enigma Machine. Pearl got pretty fed with up me! I didn't pay her heed. Then one night, I'm out in that complex... and the Blitz starts falling. Next morning I came home... to find nothing but ashes where I last saw her. Nothing but ashes...

Thing like that, losing the only person you care about for somebody else's war... it makes you take stock. I started seeing eye-to-eye with Mr. Ryan around that time... and so, I brought my know-how down to Rapture. I built The Thinker for him... and now it's all I've got, I wonder sometimes... what if I'd come around to Ryan's way of thinking... just a little sooner?

Pearl's death opened up a kind of hole in my mind. But eventually I got around to reflecting on Alan, and his intelligence test for machines. I remember grinning about the idea that I could beat it - design a machine capable of replicating Turing himself, and wouldn't that show the old man. But then suddenly I realized I wasn't really thinking of replicating Alan at all. I was thinking about Pearl.

Charles Milton Porter: The Thinker's Independent Reasoning Processor has been running for several months now. Standardized intelligence test scores continue to rise. Beginning daily voice synthesis test... Good morning, Thinker. How are you?

The Thinker: Acceptable. Request to continue most recent conversation topic: Pearl Porter.

Charles: Ah, my... late wife. Yes, I'd love to tell you all about her. I... have a number of old audio recordings we made together... that you could listen to. If you'd like.

The Thinker: Acceptable. Begin input of data regarding Pearl Porter.

Charles: You take the words right out of my mouth, friend.

Dear Doctor Lamb, I received the invitation to your little social club today. In return, I'd like to make you a wager: I wager you need Rapture Central Computing just a little bit more than I need your half-baked metaphysical mumbo-jumbo. I deal in science, not...whatever it is you're up to! You keep out of Minerva's Den and I'll keep this city's automation from grinding to a complete and sudden halt. Sound fair?

Sure you hear it in Rapture. One of the business types asked me, "Why don't you splice white? Get ahead!" Well, that's some idiocy! I told him, "First of all I AM ahead. Second, in Rapture it's your WORK that's supposed to matter, not your skin!" Too bad for some folks you can't splice in common sense.

Charles Milton Porter: Continuing input of audio data into The Thinker's database. Subject: Pearl Porter.

Charles: *Static* Closer to the recorder...

Pearl Porter: I don't know what to say, Milton? Ahem, this is Mrs. Pearl Porter speaking.

Charles: Ha ha, that's the way.

Pearl: And I'm recording this message with my brilliant husband, whom I love very much, and, um, I am so looking forward to seeing London.

Charles: That wasn't so hard, now was it? Won't you be glad that we have these to listen to when we're old and gray? *Static*

Charles Milton Porter: Continuing input of audio data into the The Thinker's database. Subject: Pearl Porter.

Pearl Porter: I want to tell the recorder how we met, Milton.

Charles: Okay, sure.

Pearl: I was working in my family's diner. School was starting for the fall, and one morning in walks this college boy, clean cut... first thing I noticed was his eyes. He sat down and ordered bacon, eggs and coffee. He was shy, but we talked a little off and on. He came in every single morning for breakfast and ordered the same thing. I told my mama, that boy must really love your cooking! She said, he isn't coming in for the food, honey, he's coming in for you. A year later we were married.

Charles Milton Porter: Continuing input of audio data into The Thinker's database. Subject: Pearl Porter.

Pearl Porter: Dear Milton: I'm recording this on the... sixth straight day since you were home last. I know your work is important to the war effort. But you're not even allowed to tell me what you're working on, and that's so... frustrating. London is a beautiful city... but it isn't home. I... I hope I'll see you soon, Milton... I -

Charles: Ending input.

Well, Thinker... Ryan's secret police are on their way. They cooked up some kind of evidence against me - "treason", they say. I've heard what happens to folks who get disappeared. Come back as one of those... metal daddies. So... I'm leaving you with something to cogitate on in my absence. Inputting... Rapture Departure Protocol. Figure a way to get yourself out of this city, Thinker. You've got to live on, no matter what happens to me. You'll find a way.

Charles Milton Porter: I believe I'm done feeding audio recordings and personal anecdotes to The Thinker. I am set to test the... Personality Duplication function. Target personality... Pearl Porter. Thinker, are you ready?

The Thinker: Yes, Milton.
Charles: Ahem, Starting test. Hello... Pearl.
The Thinker: Hello, Milton.
Charles: How... ahem, how have you been?
The Thinker: Just wonderful, Milton! I've missed you, though. It's been so long...
Charles: Pearl, I... No. No, this isn't right. It isn't... her. Thinker, stop the test.
The Thinker: But what's the matter, Milton? Don't you still love me?
Charles: Oh god I said... Oh God I said, I said end function, Thinker! Now! - It's over.

I guess sometimes a cloud of lead just ain't enough. Today I signed for a shipment of those new bot models from McClendon: one variety tosses lightning bolts, and the other fires a swarm of rockets. I understand we got some sensitive info bouncing around the mainframe - but, brother! Have these guys ever heard o' overkill?

I figured out how to reprogram a bathysphere signal beacon to scramble Lamb's torpedoes. But I need access to a bathysphere, and Porter's got the only one in the Den locked away at this private dock! The son of a bitch... why doesn't he open up?!

Maurice, I need a new pair of shoes ordered and sent to the pneumo in my office immediately. The vacuum bot ate one of mine, size 7, alligator, heels.

We make it all run. The brains in those bots and cameras? That's us. Automatic bathysphere navigation, calculating genetic probabilities for new Plasmids, hell, regulatin' water pressure so this place ain't a fish tank. It's all Rapture Central Computing. Not that we get the recognition. Funny thing about livin' in the city of tomorrow, everybody takes it for granted.

Robotic Little Sisters... Robotic Little Sisters! (hic!) Sure Mr. Ryan, we'll take that contract. Suuuuuuure, yeah, we'll front all the R 'n' D costs, noooo problem! An', an', when the Big Daddies IGNORE the little robot girls in all your fancy field... (hic)... field tests... ahh, hell, what're we gonna to do with all the full production run of these useless things?

Some of the boys in the code pit whipped up a real doozy of an entertainment: Monitor screen hooked into a sort of tiny airplane cockpit, yeah? And that's swell, because what shows up on screen is an X - that's you - and a bunch of Os, like - ah - Spitfire surrounded by a squadron of Jap Zeros. You fly your little X around and shoot 'em down one after another. Wahl caught us at it one night, called it 'a waste of time'... I dunno. On balance, ain't it better to change what's on the screen, than just stare at it?

Hey, I'm just doing my job, and these pencil-necks ain't conductin' themselves in a way that'll make it go easy for'em. Mr. Ryan needs to keep an eye on what certain subversives got circulatin' in the Archives, that's just the way it is. These Pinkos think the bandits are just gonna play nice, send their plans to the Central Council with a bow on top? When it comes to Mr. Ryan, you're either with'im or you ain't. Get used to it.

Porter and I are partners, but... he's wasting that machine. In off hours, I've been using it to predict the outcomes of baseball games, and it's incredibly accurate. Apply such equations to Rapture's markets? This thing is the money making grail. But Porter... I have heard him feeding it recordings of his dead wife. The fool who wants to turn The Thinker into a 'person'. I could not imagine a sadder fate for such a perfect machine.

The Thinker has shown me so much. My outlook was... limited before. Ballgames and stockprices, dollars and cents. Hah! No. The numbers spiral out, they touch... everything. Hidden within them lies a predictive algorithm for you, for me, for the destiny of the base allele to the stretch of a galaxy's arm... The Thinker is destined to get birth to that crystalline equation which determines ALL. I thought I knew its true purpose before. I thought Porter was the fool. Now I see, I was the fool all along.

Porter thinks his talking computer is harmless fun? It talks like a man! This is a simple toy? No. I have heard that Ryan is becoming paranoid about this Fontaine character. If Porter were... implicated as a criminal... I would have The Thinker to myself... as it was meant to be... Keep tinkering Porter... Your time will come.

The Brain Boost Gene Tonics are working. Extra strength, yes. I see more now. One mind, doing the work of two - ten! With the help of The Thinker: a thousand! The Machine spoke, Ryan listened, and finally, I have The Thinker all to myself. Goodbye old friend. Don't worry, you leave your creation in capable hand...

ADAM makes it hard to sleep. Forgetting things lately, So this - this is an emergency reminder for the code to my... hem, private storage area. I won't record the number, but remember - just look at the four groups of books on the shelf, and the sequence is obvious.

The Thinker's algorithm is highly accurate in predicting local phenomenon... But how far can I trust the machine? I have found it running protocols that are not mine, the old Alpha Series are returning. Someone is cutting them loose! Delta, Sigma, a-and the machine has no data on them, whic-which makes no... Is it hiding them from me? Is it conspiring against its master? Sending someone... No! I am so close to seeing everything! No one will take that away, not even the machine itself!

The irony of my predictive equation... is that it sometimes requires blind faith. I see the individual elements crashing against each other and the urgency of what I must do to maintain my part in the plan is clear... but I cannot always see just WHY. An Alpha Series has headed to Minerva's Den, Subject Sigma, and the equation states that if he reaches the Computer Core, catastrophe! I do not know why... yet, but I know what must be done. Subject Sigma is approaching Minerva's Den, he must not reach The Thinker. Detonate the tunnel!

I have made contact with Charles Milton Porter in Minerva's Den. A productive exchange. Porter tells me that if he can find a way to return to the surface along with the programming for his mainframe, we could then rebuild the machine and work together towards the cure. I am securing passage now to his office, where we might me and plan. It will not be a simple task, but if we succeed, then my return to Rapture will not have been in vain. I know that the cure for ADAM's curse is on its way.

Maurice, I told you I needed the contract for those McClendon Vacuum bots on Tuesday.
Do you know what day it is today? do the math.

Maurice, have Ms. Hills escorted from the building, she knows our policy on interdepartmental fraternization, disgusting.

Maurice, there's a leak in the break room again! Tell Mr. Vanamin to send a competent repairman this time, unless he relishes the prospect of seeking employment elsewhere.

Maurice, this is unacceptable. I will not tolerate such incompetence, I specifically requested the mauve upholstery on my new office chair and this is NOT mauve. If such a simple task causes you this much difficulty, I may be forced to search for a new assistant, consider yourself warned!

Maurice, Please remind Mr. Seriks to schedule my recording of announcements in more cohesive blocks. I can't be pulled away from my desk to record a reminder every time one of our employees spills soda pop on his key punch machine.

Benjamin I appreciate the difficulty your having in picking up where my prior assistant left off. His efforts were sufficient, but I will not accept second class work from my subordinates and so if I request a new pair of shoes, I expect them in my pneumo not the next day, but the next hour. As a side note schedule a vacuum technician, the unit in my office is being overzealous again.

Milton, I talked to Mrs. Ashby next door, she's making out a will and I'm just so scared. The war is coming to London, and if anything should happen, I want you to have the strength to go on living.. for me.