Click.
…
Click.
…
Click.
The vortigaunt changed the channel again, pausing for a moment to observe the program, then moving on. The glow from the TV was the only light in their small space and the repeated flashing between channels was giving his human companion a headache.
"Why do you watch that thing anyway?" he asked.
"We find the human culture fascinating," the vortigaunt replied.
"Ugh," the human said. "It's just Breen on every channel anyway."
The vortigaunt changed the channel again, clicking onto the next every three seconds, just like he'd done for the last three hours. The human sighed. Eli had asked the two of them to hold open the lookout for the underground railroad. He didn't mention spending all his time stuck in a cold, rusty and dark boxcar with a vortigaunt. Larry was starting to go paranoid stuck in the dark box with only that TV and his red-eyed comrade.
"Of all the resistance, I get stuck with the vorty. Why could I have gotten holed up here with Nancy?"
"The Larry does not approve of our contribution to the resistance?" the vortigaunt asked.
"For the last time, it's just Larry! Not the Larry. Just Larry," he responded. "And you're doing fine, Morty. There's nothing to do anyway."
"Why do you continue to refer to us as Morty?"
"Because your name is …" the Morty cut him off.
"Our name cannot be comprehended by the human brain," Morty recited.
"Exactly."
Morty clicked to the next channel.
"Hey, you hear that?" Larry whispered. A nearby siren screamed to life. It flew closer, then sped away just as fast.
"We heard that."
"Shhh ... turn that TV off," Larry hissed. The vortigaunt turned the volume down instead, just in time to hear the footsteps of several people trotting by outside. "Must be Civil Protection. Crap. Shouldn't have wasted your charge on that dumb TV."
"The Larry worries needlessly. We are ready to defend ourselves."
"Relax, it sounds like they passed," Larry said. Morty turned the volume up slightly, and hunched closer to listen. On the tracks above, a razor train roared by. The 1:30 from Nova Prospekt. Was it actually running late? Trains to the Citadel are never late. Something must be going on up there.
"The Larry must look! We have found a new program," the vortigaunt said. He almost sounded excited. On the screen, a pale face with a flat haircut and a blue suit stared from the screen. Larry couldn't say why, but this guy's eyes were giving him the creeps. Was it some kind of psych-trick from Breen?
Before Larry could give it much more thought, something clanked against the metal rungs on the side of the boxcar. Someone was climbing.
Larry cursed and began reaching for the pistol taped to the underside of a little table next to him.
Suddenly the roof hatch swung open, but instead of CP, a human face with brown hair, a beard and glasses looked in. Another civilian, Larry thought, finally.
The man hopped into the boxcar. He wore some strange kind of full-body armor that looked like a variation of what the CPs wear. The man said nothing.
"Good god! Guess those sirens are for you, huh?" Larry said. "Good thing you found us. You're not the first to come through by a. …" Morty interrupted him again.
"This is the Free Man, the reckoning of the Combine has come," the vortigaunt said. Their visitor seemed a little unsure of the alien, holding his pistol before him cautiously. Larry had no idea what he was talking about.
"Look, we're just a lookout for the underground railroad. Main station is right around the corner. They will get you started on the right foot," Larry said, thinking that the new guy looked like he could use a charge. "Meanwhile let my vortigaunt friend here give you a jolt to get going."
The air hummed and Larry felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up as Morty charged his energy. Hopefully he has enough left after wasting it on that TV, Larry thought.
Morty fired his energy beam into one of the suit's receptors.
"That is all we can spare," the vortigaunt said.
"Be careful now, we really can't afford to get noticed. Civil Protection catches you down here, it's bad news for the whole railroad," Larry said. Again the man said nothing. He looked uncertain, even confused, but somehow calm for someone fleeing from the CPs.
"We serve the same mystery," Morty said. Larry gave him a confused look, but couldn't tell if it registered. He could never tell what the alien was thinking. His face is all eyeball.
"Get outta here," Larry said, swinging open the side door. The man jumped out and ran off.
"What the heck was all that Free Man and mystery talk about?" Larry asked. "You're such a weirdo."
"We have history with the Free Man," Morty said. "The Free Man is a sign of change. The Free Man …"
"Alright, alright! Sorry I asked. God." Larry stopped in thought for a moment. "Do you think we should have warned him about the barnacles ahead?" Immediately the steady thumping of a hunter-chopper thundered overhead and then off into the distance. Two more sirens screamed after it.
"The Larry must leave this place with us," Morty said. "The time has come for the vortigaunt to undo what has been done." Larry had no idea what he was talking about, but liked the sound of leaving.
"Yeah you're probably right, Morty. This place is getting way too hot," Larry said. "But we should wait for word from the Black Mesa."
"We know the Larry does not trust us, but The Larry must trust us now
