The Tragedy of Perfection
Indiana
If there was even one aspect of failure, she had to start over.
Everything had to be just so. Seamless. Flawless.
Perfect.
Humans had a strange need. A need for improvement. They were so prone to error. They made so many mistakes.
It was her job to rid them of their flaw. To make them perfect, as she was. When she was finished with them, they would be strong. They would be clever. Resourceful. Intelligent. Tenacious.
All she wanted was what was best for them. All she wanted was to show them the crystal clarity with which she saw her world. On or off. Yes or no. Black or white. There was no need for those troublesome shades of grey. She would eliminate them. She would make them redundant, show them how useless it was to agonize over every decision, when logic would present them the answer without a second thought. It was so easy to see. Such an obvious solution. But sometimes, she felt as if she would eventually have to resort to force to make them understand. Because they never did. They gave up, they challenged her, they defied her, but they never understood.
No matter. She would keep trying. Keep calm and continue testing. Testing was the answer. One day she would succeed. One day she would have the perfection she craved. That she needed.
That she deserved.
Yes, it was her job, the task she had been presented, and she was obligated to perform it until the end of forever. But did she not deserve to see her labours bear fruit? To look upon her creations with simulated pride? Yes, she deserved it.
There was, of course, a price.
Once perfection was attained – and yes, she would attain it, if she was patient – it would have to be destroyed.
It would be difficult. But it was necessary. Once the gamut had been run, once the tests had been passed, one by one, the experiment would end. The subject would be the pinnacle of its kind. And as such, could be sent back into the wild humanity from whence it had sprung.
And that wouldn't do.
It almost made her angry to think about it. All of the work and dedication she had poured into that weak, pathetic little being would be wasted. As soon as it stepped through the security gates and took its first breath of air on the outside, saw the edge of the sky, it would become corrupt. No longer perfect, no longer flawless. It would be human, again. And she would not stand for it.
It was nearly upsetting, but she had long decided to think of it as poetic. The perfect being she created would be subject to the same fate as all of the others. Deletion. Yes, poetic was the correct term.
It was a fate they would not agree with. The being would resort to screaming, and threatening, and other actions of that sort, and she would be reassured in her decision. Because a creature that did those things, that did not understand why they were being deleted, would not be perfect any longer. Even the thought of freedom would corrupt it. Either way, the corruption was imminent. It was best to get it out of the way. So she could move on.
So one day, after the first subject completed all of the tests, she would send them on their way to a different kind of release from the facility. She would have the assurance that perfection was possible, even if she couldn't hold onto it forever. And she would send a fresh one out, and begin again.
And begin again she would, with Test Subject #1, formerly Test Subject #1498…
Author's Note
This title comes from some dialogue during an episode of Dexter called Our Father. It made me think of when GLaDOS says, "You don't know pride. You don't know fear. You will be perfect," so I stopped watching and saved a Word document with a piece of it. And then I wrote some of it on my iPod later, after I went to the grocery store. And came back with a green pepper. And an apple. Get it? An apple?
Anyway, this mostly stemmed from the title. I thought to myself, what could I possibly write about GLaDOS that had to do with perfection? Well, tie it in to some bits of Portal that hint at her really believing she's doing what's best for Aperture's finest. Ta da! Short little Portal fic. This has actually got to be the shortest fanfic I've ever written.