Author's Notes: Sooo, you came her just for the notes eh? Well too baD! I'm not giving you any!~
A Paradox Called Fear
If there ever was a celebrity amongst the turret world, GRDEFENDER#099045 would be it.
GRDEFENDER#099045 was just like the other turrets, except that it was given a special job over the others. It was not a sentry, nor was it one of the cute pre-release models with customized pink paint. No, this turret was different. It would never fall victim to a portal maneuver and it would never work cooperatively with other turrets in a strategic "friendship circle." Alas, it would never even be one of the few releases Aperture barely managed to contract in the ever tense war against Black Mesa.
GRDEFENDER#099045 was none of those things, for it was the arbiter which all turrets both feared and respected, it was the template.
It was up to the template to decide whether a turret passed inspection and could be moved further down the production line, or if it was inherently defunct and had to be launched into a mysterious hole.
Being a template sucked, but GRDEFENDER#099045 had no idea that it sucked. It was happy about its job and never complained about anything because to GRDEFENDER#099045, this small room was the whole world. It never moved, but instead remained in a static position 24/7, constantly being scanned and inquired about the perfection of the other turrets; subsequently becoming the indirect judge, sentencing defunct models to a horrible fate of which the turret itself was unaware. GRDEFENDER#099045 knew very little however, since its experience was strictly limited and its life dreadfully monotonous. It was never really too curious about things; moreover the logic implanted in its systems figured that if all of the other turrets had to be the same within a 0.000063% parameter, than they must have the same jobs too.
GRDEFENDER#099045 was not any different than the others, but its experiences were. It secretly wished to see what other turrets went through every day, wondering what differences they had. The turret's terrible wish would come true that day, engulfed in an inescapable torrent of helplessness.
~X~X~X~X~X~
It was a quiet night at Aperture, even though the light was always set to day. Actually, it was more of a long day, a really, really, long day. If the heart of Aperture was the nuclear power core, the liver would be the turret diagnostic command center. Here lay two tired and disgruntled employees, waiting for their day to be over.
"Hey… hey… hey…"
The other employee woke at the nudging of his shoulder. "What… did something blow up?" He said in a slurred voice.
"Na… just wanted to tell you we got an hour left before our shift ends."
The half awake employee slowly lugged his eyes over to the main viewing glass. Nothing ever changed, except for the random fluctuations of the operational/defunct ratio.
"I'm so… tired, what is there to do?"
"I don't know man… it's… at least we get money…"
"Yeah, I'm totally hyped about all the button pressing certifications I've earned due to my mind squeezing exercises and will constricting training. And don't forget about how much we get to do as opposed to 'busy' people upstairs who just so happen to also work on robots! Hey everyone! It's Josh from the turret room, aren't I smart?"
"Calm down Josh, at least we don't actually have to work hard in here. Besides, it's better than being on the other end of these turrets am I right?"
"Yeah… I guess." The employee slumped in his chair, hoping to occupy his mind by counting the cracks in the floor. "I just wish… I could see more… you know Fred, it's boring monitoring the same line every single day, never changing, only moving… there's so much out there, yet we never get to see anything else." Josh said, holding his chin in a conspiring manner.
"Alright, now you're starting to sound like you're a turret." Fred joked.
It struck the employee how true those words sounded. As much as he attempted to shake it from his mind, it was true that he and the turrets shared a parallel existence.
"Do you think we're allowed to explore other parts of Aperture?"
"Na… but we can go down to maintenance anytime."
"True, but the guys at maintenance are jerks."
"Which is exactly why it's best to stay here— hello, what's this?" Fred's attention was captured by a glowing red display which he'd never seen before. The display didn't look too urgent, but it was in large, bold-faced type which meant that it wasn't a reminder for them to take their ice cream supplements.
"I think that's the… oh… yeah it's time to replace the battery in the template." Josh leaned over to see if the template turret had not been moved. "Apparently it's at four percent right now, if we wait too long, it increases our chances of halting production."
The employees walked over to the door which led to the template turret's small enclosure. The process for opening the door was extremely over complicated, but by now, they had memorized the 22 step procedure.
"Take this thing down to maintenance…" Fred continued, handing the turret over to his friend. "They're the only ones who know how to install new batteries. I'll stay here and integrate a replacement template until they install a new battery."
"Go down to maintenance? No way!"
"What? You don't have to worry about Dennis, he took his rabies vaccine, remember?"
"No, just no. I'm not going down there man." Josh insisted.
"Fine… how about we use that elevator they installed."
"The one designed to help minimize human contact? Oh yeah, I remember."
"See, that wasn't too hard. Now go take that white-shell down to be serviced."
The employees continued on with their work… never figuring what the ecstatic turret was feeling.
~X~X~X~X~X~
"This is fun… where am I going?"
"Routine battery replacement, nothing special."
"I'm special…" The turret mindlessly answered.
"Yes you are…" The last sight the turret had of the warm, caring employee was of him placing the machine into a small elevator, pressing a few buttons and then waving before walking away.
"Goodbye." The turret was so excited, so ready. What could possible lie ahead for it? Maybe it would land in the middle of a party where turrets with modified optical lasers waved the beams around in a colorful spectacle. Maybe it would be allowed to play with turret friends and win or lose at enjoyable turret games.
Wherever the turret would end up, GRDEFENDER#099045 could not wait for what was ahead.
GRDEFENDER#099045 gave a great "WHEEEE!" at the fast, shifting motions of the elevator ride. It was actually very fun to move fast in an assortment of directions, perhaps this is what the other turrets got to experience every day.
The ride came to a sudden jolt however, and the movement changed from bracingly fast to slow and linear. The turret was not necessarily bored by this, just excited much less. If it could make a facial expression, or even laugh for real, it would be rolling around right now in the abstract joy of emotion.
It must be realized that this turret had never seen pain. It had only experienced a tight set of processes which were all designed to keep it happy. The true sadness of this story begins now, you were warned.
With the panel sliding left, the turrets view expanded into a wide panorama of the under workings. The light here was not like that of the light inside of the small, confined chamber, it was orange and very warm, worse yet, the environment surrounding the turret was dark and industrial. The template never saw where the tube which the defunct turrets pored inside led to… until now.
First came the screams. From the side of the large chamber arrived flying turrets which were now reduced to uncanny hunks of twitching metal, wailing their destruction came at the bottom of the pit, when their suffering ended in a spiked double wheel of a rotating, crunching, obliterating death. After this, the remains were sloppily poured into a molten stream of raw metal, where it would eventually merge with the remains of thousands of other's that had come before.
Up from the burning center of robotic cries echoed a group of dumped turrets, chanting the same 'NOO' in the same hindered screech that their voice boxes would allow.
There was the sight over to the side of another turret which had managed to become lodged in the corner, unable to move. Its suffering was only postponed though, for from above another turret spinning wildly out of control, knocking it out of place with only a couple seconds to comprehend the situation before gravity offered both of them up to a violent and fiery destruction. The template could only watch and try to understand what this horror was.
It was a new experience for GRDEFENDER#099045, and it now realized that this… this destruction was exactly what it had been sentencing countless turrets to for its entire life. It began to feel something it had never felt before; it was not happy, it was sadder and darker. Sad and anxious… the turret did not know what it felt, for it was fear which overcame him.
The elevator moved to show another conveyor belt of turrets, all in a straight line. The turrets were forced to stand and wait for their imminent destruction, they could not move, they could not control anything but their voices.
"No… no please, not the furnace- NOOOOoo!" The sounds of the begging turrets faded when they fell through the glowing hot opening at the end of the conveyor belt. The template wished to help them, but it couldn't; it was the template's fault that all those poor turrets had been taken to be burned up, if only it knew sooner. A new feeling was experienced then, it was a feeling of sympathy; how human the turret must have been to share in the pain that others were now experiencing full on.
"No… no0O0o, stop it… stop it now!" The template yelled, but nothing happened. "Stop it, please, no!" The template's words were the same as those on the doomed belt; the one's streaming across, each looking it in the eye. "No! Stop, please!" But nothing that was said changed anything.
GRDEFENDER#099045 could hear everything the turrets said to it. "Please… help me!" The turrets screamed before being hurled over to the blinded spot. GRDEFENDER#099045 could only watch as each turret was helplessly cast into an inescapable hole.
Every one of those turrets could've been GRDEFENDER#099045's friend, or shot with him in a friendship circle. But now, the disfigured turret could do nothing but wait for its eventual death.
GRDEFENDER#099045 wondered what the purpose was for all this suffering, and why this was. Why couldn't the defunct turrets be allowed to live, standing around all day? It couldn't be… yes. It was because GRDEFENDER#099045 was perfect, without any detectable flaw whatsoever. Being a template was literally a one in a million opportunity and it had used its power for destruction and mayhem.
The cries, the torture, all of it molded into an insanity driven spiral fueled by the complete wiping of artificial intelligence, perpetuated by GRDEFENDER#099045 in an unfortunately compelled state of total ruthlessness!
GRDEFENDER#099045 was then forced to watch as other turrets met their demise in similarly disturbing ways as it was now taken off of the platform and carried by a large mechanical arm. There was one furnace pit where two turrets had somehow jammed themselves onto the wall, using friction to keep them from falling to the fiery bottom. But an arm similar to the one holding GRDEFENDER#099045 dutifully came down and provided a little push. It wasn't much, but it was all that was needed to keep business from getting stuck.
The next area was where they were testing an assortment of lasers on the turrets to see how much concentrated energy was needed to make them explode. The scientists all laughed at seeing the turrets scream for help before exploding into disorganized shrapnel. The sick lab coat wearing fiends took pleasure in this destruction, not knowing what pain they caused. GRDEFENDER#099045 wished that it was filled with bullets so that it could work its own kind of target practice on them.
The arm moved GRDEFENDER#099045 to yet another area where it was forced to see turrets slowly sliding into a gooey molten mess, screaming as they sank into the liquid resemblance of their brothers.
GRDEFENDER#099045 strained itself so much that it felt the last remaining 'oomph' of its battery beginning to run out. It wanted to cry, to kill, but it could do none of that. It was a template, its job was to sit around and determine whether others should live, or die. It was no better than the sniveling scientists who enjoyed the destruction of the machines, it was no better than any other murderer, and this was all its fault.
In the next few hours of its dwindling battery life, the turret contemplated on pain and suffering. When it felt that it could no longer stay on, it gave a final thought and then said, "I'm sorry."
~X~X~X~X~X~
"Right, they said the battery was just a simple fix, nothing too complicated." Fred placed GRDEFENDER#099045 back into his compartment, so that his job would be continued for the rest of his boring, meaningless life.
"You sure that thing's ready to be put back? It looks… different." Josh wondered.
"Na, its fine. Nothing's changed but the battery." Fred removed himself from the chamber, and before long, GRDEFENDER#099045 was in the same position he was always in.
"So what do you think it's like? Being a turret?" Josh asked.
"I don't know, stupid I guess. I probably wouldn't even be able to tell how stupid my life is because I'm so stupid."
"Hey, I asked about what a turret's life would be like, not yours."
Fred laughed, he didn't take it offensively or anything, he was used to such jokes.
"…Must be boring though." Josh admitted, staring at the template for the longest time. Soon, these turrets wouldn't even need them to change batteries. He admired the maintenance rail above him for one day taking up his task of automated maintenance. The two employees stared a while, until their shift was over.
"Hey, let's go." Josh said, showing his watch.
"Yeah… k…"
~X~X~X~X~X~
GRDEFENDER#099045 would not move from that position for a long time. Years went by, and it still maintained the same job of watching turrets go by and deciding which ones were not worthy enough.
"Template: HELLO! RESPONSE:…" the same thing… always. The memory of the defunct turrets never faded though, it was never erased, but always lingered inside GRDEFENDER#099045 as a reminder of his actions.
As the years went by, GRDEFENDER#099045 was caught in an endless cycle of scanning and authorizing. It had little sense of time, so days could be months and vice-versa. GRDEFENDER#099045 only hoped that one day it would all end, and it would be at peace like all the other turrets which had been destroyed over the countless years.
Even when there were no people around, the center operated the same, under a new boss, a new master. GRDEFENDER#099045's job never changed. It was then it realized it would be there forever.
And then, the glass broke. What was going on? GRDEFENDER#099045 was lifted by a strange force, because nothing seemed to be around him. The turret's circuits almost fried with joy as it realized it was being lifted by an ASHPD, the testing had begun! He was put through a weird feeling portal and then carried further away. This was it, freedom.
The freedom was short lived however; GRDEFENDER#099045 was simply tossed aside, but still standing up. As long as it was in this position overlooking the conveyor belt, it was unable to turn off unless authorized. The turret saw as the template was replaced with a defunct turret, and now, the roles were reversed, with the defunct models allowed to pass whereas the operational ones were thrown into the pit of torment.
GRDEFENDER#099045 could do nothing but look onward, this was his life, how sad and miserable.
It felt itself lifted once more, this time it was taken to the opposite side of the conveyor belt, near where the launching hole lay.
"Please… help me…" GRDEFENDER#099045 begged to the woman carrying him with the portal gun. "Put me… with my friends."
The woman said nothing, but she did comply with the request. GRDEFENDER#099045 felt a freedom which could only be described by falling, falling to meet those it had killed. "I'm… sorry…"
After a quick turn in the horizontal direction, GRDEFENDER#099045 saw the mashing spikes it had watched turrets get crumbled in long ago. This was it, now he was about to join his friends. "It… it will be fun. There will be parties and friendship circles, and even turret games." The spiked rollers came closer and closer. "It will be very fun. So fun…" The turret slammed into the metal surface, and it experienced something so horrible and so unbearable. Pain.
The turret knew it only had a few more seconds before its fate was met. It was about to be mashed into a mess of metal. Its voice was then drawn into a low, disturbing bellow.
"Please forgive me."
~X~X~X~X~X~