Disclaimer: Half Life belongs to Valve Software.
Doctor Gordon Freeman slept soundly under the covers of his bed. On his nightstand to the left of his bed a pair of glasses laid on top of a book entitled "The Truth about Aliens" while an electronic clock counted the seconds. Gordon stirred in his sleep, turned onto his right side, and opened his eyes. For a moment, Gordon just laid there blinking. He yawned and sat up. "Ugh, what time is it?" He reached for his glasses and set them upon his head. When he looked at the clock, his heart nearly stopped.
It read 8:32 A.M. "Oh shit, I'm late AGAIN!" Tossing the covers off his bed, Gordon quickly dashed into his bathroom. Pausing only a moment to take off his boxers, he hopped into his shower and turned the water on. 'Keller's going to have my ASS today! I've only been working here two weeks, got elected "employee of the month", and STILL can't wake up on time yet!'
Gordon considered himself to be very lucky to be working at the Black Mesa Research Facility. His former professor from MIT, Dr. Kliener, had recommended him for employment. Not only that, but he was also given a private dorm, something that most of the other employees that had to live in Black Mesa didn't have. Gordon finished washing his body and immediately began to dry himself off.
'I don't even have the time for breakfast. Dr. Green and Dr. Cross are supposed to assist me in the experiment on that new sample.' As soon as he was dry, Gordon ran a comb through his hair a few times before rushing back into his room to change. He flicked on the light switch and rummaged around in his drawers for all his clothes. A few minutes later, he was dressed. He started for the door but stopped short and smacked himself in the head. "My ID card…"
He rushed back to his nightstand to retrieve the lone item before rushing out. Gordon found the plastic card hidden underneath his German dictionary and clipped it onto his breast pocket. As he turned he saw his unmade bed, sighed and rolled his eyes. 'May as well. If I don't then I'll get into trouble for not keeping my dorm clean.' Gordon quickly grabbed the corner of his comforter and sheets and pulled them up to where they met his pillow. Swiftly tucking them under the mattress, he hurriedly went through a mental checklist. At last he was dressed and ready for work.
Gordon flung open his door and ran out, nearly colliding with a young intern by the name of Amy Parker.
"Hey, watch where you're going Gordon!"
"Sorry Amy, I'm in danger of losing my job!" He called back as he ran down the hallway. The young woman sighed and rolled her eyes. Gordon continued running down the corridor (nearly colliding into a few more of his colleagues) until he reached the guard station outside of the tram entrance. The guard on duty hung up his phone and jumped in surprise at the sight of Gordon.
"Jesus Mr. Freeman, you scared the daylights out of me!"
"Yeah yeah, sorry about that, just call the tram and let me out, will you? I'm supposed to have been at the lab…' He glanced at the watch on his left wrist. "…six minutes ago."
"Just give me a sec." The guard started punching in the access code. "It's a good thing you got up. I just received a call from Dr. Keller to get your lazy ass out of bed and haul it to Sector C."
The computer beeped and flashed an 'access granted' message across the station computer and the double doors began to open up.
"There you go Mr. Freeman. The tram will be there any minute but I suggest you don't waste anytime." Gordon just waived in thanks as he rushed out to the platform. The guard sighed and rolled his eyes. 'How the hell did that guy ever get to work here?'
Gordon got up to edge of the platform just as the tram pulled up. He had to wait a minute for the door to slide open but as soon as it did, he stepped in and pressed the activate button to the right of the door. The door slid back closed and the tram began its journey to the Level 3 dormitories platform. Instead of the usual tram voice -which Dr. Cross volunteered to supply- the facility's computerized voice came on. "Attention. All repair crews report to the central computer station and Sector G Hydro Electric main power supply."
Gordon sighed and his shoulders slumped. 'Great. Now I'm going to run into traffic with all the people heading to Sector G.' His legs started to ache due to the demand that had been placed upon them so early in the morning. Gordon yawned and sat down in the seat. His eyes half closed and he began to doze off. He tried to fight it but it was no use. His body was still used to being asleep at this time and had not switched over to the Mountain Time zone.
He tried one last time to fight sleep off, but Gordon lost and finally succumbed to the dream land. Several minutes later a finger began to poke at his arm. He mumbled and moved away but fell over and slammed onto the seat. "Ah shit!" Gordon swore as he shot back up and grabbed his now aching head. After the throbbing died down a few moments later he looked up to see the guard on duty standing over him.
"Sorry Mr. Freeman, but I was told to make sure you got down to the lab ASAP." Gordon sighed and stood up.
"You don't have to apologize. You were just doing your job."
The guy was visibly relieved. One of the first things that Gordon learned was that the security guards were treated like shit by most of the science team. After being something of a target for practical jokes during his freshman college years by the more muscular ones at MIT, the security force had Gordon's sympathy.
Exchanging smiles, the pair exited the tram. The guard went to his station and started punching in the clearance code.
"So what's exactly going down in Sector C today Mr. Freeman? I overheard members of the science team having an argument over some stuff. Didn't understand most of it."
"Sorry, but that stuff's level three clearance. No offense but you only have level two.
"S'alright, none taken."
The last character was inputted and the double doors swished open. Almost immediately a gaggle of orange clad mechanics came waltzing though the doorway, most with a bag full of tools slung over their shoulder. They were too busy grumbling and talking amongst themselves to notice Gordon slip through their ranks toward the next platform he had to get to.
The hallways between the platforms were mostly uniform in design; tiled ceiling, tiled floor, occasional office of some kind or security post. In fact, most of Black Mesa looked alike. Well, that couldn't be entirely true as Gordon has never been that far into the facility. In fact, the people who had access to every area of the place could be counted on a single hand. They were the heads of both the science and security divisions as well as the administrator himself.
Gordon never had the opportunity to meet any of them, though from what he garnered from the rest of the personnel, the administrator was a real pain in the ass who didn't take advice. Ever. As for the other two, the head of the Black Mesa Science Team was some guy in his seventies while the chief of the Black Mesa Security Force was ex-military and (as it was rumored) a special op during Desert Storm.
However Gordon cared for none of this as he reached the tram control station. The guard posted there was nowhere to be seen and the operation controls were right in front of Gordon. Whistling a little tune that he couldn't remember the source of, he walked right up to the controls and called up the tram that would take him to Sector C.
"You're fifteen minutes late Gordon."
The scientist nearly jumped out of his shoes at the sound of the voice. He whipped around to see who it was and then proceeded to sigh in relief. It was Marc Laidlaw, one of Gordon's few friends in Black Mesa. They had first met when a mutual acquaintance had invited the two of them to a poker game a week ago.
"Damn Marc, you scared me half to death!" The blue clad guard smiled and leaned against the metal doorframe.
"Then what are you now? Half life?" Gordon couldn't help but laugh at the joke.
"Very funny Marc. Hey, I thought you were stationed over by Sector A?"
"Well, it seems that the damn computers are screwing up today and I got reassigned here temporarily."
"Yeah, I know. I heard the VOX system on the tram on the way over here call the repair crews to Sector G and the central computer station."
Gordon crossed his arms and leaned on the tram display unit. Glancing at it, the monitor showed some tram coming into the facility from the topside dormitories. 'Lucky bastards. They get to see the sun more often than the rest of us.' Although Gordon had to admit that those people usually got assigned to the lower security areas and thus, received less pay than him.
Another screen showed his tram pulling into view just as the corresponding notification light blinked on.
"Well, my tram's going to be here in a minute. I'll see you later Marc."
"Yeah, see ya."
Gordon hadn't even taken one step out the room when Marc called to him.
"Hey Gordon." The scientist stopped and looked behind.
"Yeah?"
"We're still on for poker Tuesday night, right?"
"Last I checked we still are."
"Okay, just wanted to make sure."
Gordon waved once and walked on down the hallway. He saw a few of his colleagues standing to the side chatting amongst themselves. As Gordon passed by he picked up on their conversation.
"… and for some reason, the topside communications dish was disabled."
"Why the hell would anyone want to do that?"
"Only God knows."
A troubled expression appeared on Gordon's face. It was a good question the guy had asked. Why would someone do that? That effectively cut Black Mesa off from the rest of the world. Maybe they were doing some kind of maintenance on the system. There were probably many plausible answers to it and right now, Gordon hadn't the time to ponder them.
Arriving at the platform, he went down a small flight of stairs and emerged onto the steel construct itself. As he drew near the edge another tram passed by, its single passenger a security guard sans helmet and vest. Gordon halted a foot from the edge and calmly waited for his tram to arrive. And a few moments later it did just that.
The door slid out of its recess and to the side. Gordon stepped inside and stood in the middle of the transport as he waited for the tram ahead of him to depart. Apparently the guard had been going to the Area 3 security station. A few moments later the path was clear and Gordon's tram began its journey.
"Good morning and welcome to the Black Mesa Transit System. This automated train is provided for the security and convenience of the Black Mesa Research Facility personnel."
As soon as the message stopped playing Gordon heard banging and glanced to his left. The guard from before was seemingly stuck on the entrance platform and the door leading in shut tight. Gripping his standard issue flashlight in his left land, the guard turned around and pointed it in Gordon's direction. For a brief moment, the two's eyes met each other.
Time seemed to halt as a strange feeling went down Gordon's back. A strange sort of connection was made between the two men, like they were old friends meeting for the first time in ages. Or perhaps it was the kind of connection made by two people seeing a normally unseen quality in each other. And as sudden as it had stopped, time resumed. Gordon faced forward while the guard resumed his pounding on the door.
Maybe it was the strange occurrence or the fact that he was still tired but Gordon sat down in the seat next to him and closed his eyes. The incessant chatter of the overhead speakers prevented him from catching some last minute sleep so he just zoned out.
While in that state, his mind drifted back to his old home in Austria. Wasn't all that big but it didn't cost him all that much in monthly rent. Soon after he got out of MIT, he accepted a position as a lecturer at the University of Innsbruck. The pay was decent but nothing compared to what he got in Black Mesa. His mind wandered around a little bit more, settling at last on the phone call that changed his life.
Gordon was working on the lectures of the next few days when the phone on his desk rang. At first he was annoyed because specific instructions had been given NOT to disturb him during the evening hours. But when the ringing failed to stop, he caved in and picked up the receiver. "Ja?" He answered in German.
"Is Doctor Freeman at home?" A somewhat raspy voice on the other end spoke in English.
"Speaking." Gordon returned. It had been several months since he had last spoken in that language.
"Greetings Doctor Freeman. I represent the Black Mesa Research Facility. You have been highly recommended by a man under our employment."
"Who would that be?"
"Doctor Alex Kliener, your former professor from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology."
For a moment Gordon was surprised. He had not heard from his old professor since he had graduated the year before. Swallowing, he continued the conversation.
"That's very kind of my professor but I'm happy with my job right now."
"I have no doubt of that Dr. Freeman but we are prepared to offer you a high paying job. Average monthly salary is in the six digit range."
Gordon's eyes bulged out. He had never dreamed of making that kind of money, especially in his chosen field. But it had gotten his full attention and the sum of money was a huge incentive.
In the next few minutes of talking about the various perks and requirements of the job, he had accepted the position. Two days later he received a letter confirming his new employment. As soon as everything had been cleared up with the Board of Directors at the university, Gordon hopped onto the next plane heading to the United States.
His first few days were spent in getting oriented with the facility and his job. The first exciting thing he had done was the Hazard Course. It was short (only about twenty minutes long) but it introduced him to a key object that he would use, the HEV Mach IV. A wonder in modern technology, the thing was designed right there at Black Mesa. Gordon didn't enjoy the whole thing of the Hazard Course however. After putting aside the more obvious –and dangerous- live wires, flammable liquids, and radiation, there was the firing range.
He didn't really understand why that was included. After all, what would he need a gun for? That's what the security guards were there for. There was also the fact that he held anti-gun views. It wasn't that he felt that his neighbor would try to kill him, is that he didn't feel like getting shot by some idiot who didn't know how to use the thing properly.
The unexpected halt of the tram shook Gordon out of his memories and back to May 22, 2004. Looking around he could see one of the robotic walkers that handled dangerous jobs start wading into a pool of toxic waste. 'Huh, I wonder how that happened?' He thought as he caught sight of the busted storage tank. The tram started up again and finished its ride to Sector C.
Rounding a bend, the tram approached the platform. Gordon got up from the seat and stretched his limbs. As he was doing that the tram stopped with a jerk, sending him off balance for a moment. Regaining it, he looked out the window to see the guard on duty begin walking to the tram. The overhead voice prattled on about the safety of exiting the tram.
"Thank you, and have a safe and productive day."
Gordon took a deep breath and walked up to the door. The security guard stood by waiting for him.
"Morning Mr. Freeman, looks like you're running late."
"Yeah I know. Just punch in the code. I'm in enough trouble."
"I understand. Still suffering jet lag huh?" The guard said as he started entering the code.
"A little bit but give me another week and I'll be fine."
The door mechanism dinged and the exit sign turned green. The door opened up and Gordon exited. He and the guard walked over to the airlock entry.
"Why don't you catch me later? I'll buy ya a beer."
"Na, thanks for the offer though."
The guard inputted the access code and the computer beeped in response. Two massive rods that served as extra security slid to the side, the one on the top to the left while the other one on the bottom to the right. The double doors opened up and the blue lit entry was exposed. Gordon stepped in and the doors shut behind him.
'Well at least the day can't get any worse than this.'