So I've been a spacosity fan since I encountered the space core, and I wanted to write them something. But I also had an idea as to where the space core came from, which grew into this. Go for it.
_
That morning, Gene Coles adjusted his tie, like he always did. He combed his hair, like he always did. He drank his coffee – milk, two sugars, the same as always. The marmalade was where it always was, which was in the cupboard under the toaster, which popped out his toast after exactly one minute and twenty seconds, the same way it could be relied upon to do every morning. The toast was eaten quickly while the radio announced the weather – the one thing which might vary about his daily routine. Lastly, he kissed his wife – her name was Alice - goodbye, picked up the case placed under his coat, and walked to the train station.
The station was dull, and grey, and smaller than it should have been. The trains were small, narrow, and smelt of tin, cigarette smoke and the products of heavy nights out. There were never enough seats and Gene, who was claustrophobic, found himself thinking in the same, slightly panicked, way he always did, that he wasn't quite sure whether he wanted to breathe the filthy air or to simply allow the crush of the other passengers and their smoke to suffocate him. When, eventually, he arrived at the small building in the side of the small Asian supermarket tucked into a narrow alley, he stood awkwardly in the lift and let it carry him down into his office, far, far underground.
He sat at his desk. Around him, people clattered, drawing conclusions from tests carried out far away from them, separated by miles of winding tunnels and heavy rock. Tables were filled out based on data involving precise measurements, accurate equipment and a good deal of spit and prayers. Gene sighed, the depressing little cubicle separating him from his co-workers seeming to become smaller and smaller, pressing in on him more and more. When Nick, who worked next to him, handed him a large folder full of hastily scribbled notes to decipher, he sighed.
"Nick?" He said, a thoughtful tone in his voice, "Do you ever think there might be more to life than this?" Nick looked at him, puzzled.
"What?" Gene paused before opening his mouth next.
"Well, I joined Aperture, I did it because I wanted to know things. All my life, I've wondered why things worked, why this did that, how that could be made better – questions, all the time. Science is about answers, and I want them. Not sitting with paper all day. Finding stuff out. Being useful." Nick raised an eyebrow.
"Oh. Um… sorry. Can't help. See you." He left, shaking his head in a slightly bemused fashion. Gene sighed again and turned back to his work until he was interrupted again, this time by a presence he didn't recognise, with a crisp, clipped voice.
"Mr. Coles?" If you would follow me, please." A tall man in perhaps his thirties, with dark hair and a darker suit stood behind him, motioning that Gene should follow him. Gene complied, one question on his lips.
"Why?"
"Because you're curious."
"Curious?" The man didn't answer, silently walking on through the blue gloom of the facility. They walked for hours, Gene was sure, well, well beyond city limits, far into the countryside until the rough, dark granite was replaced by smooth, white... metal? He wasn't sure. All the while, neither spoke and Gene felt himself growing more and more apprehensive. Eventually, they came to a large room with a heavily locked door and full of machinery. Gene just had time to notice the large steel plate with the straps before something hit him on the back of the head and the green sparks began to dance on the edges of his vision, before fading his vision out to black and letting him drop to the ground, limp and easy to manipulate.
Gene was awoken by a sharp pain in the back of his neck. Groggily, he opened his eyes to find himself staring at a clean white ceiling, strapped to the slab he had noticed earlier. 'tknowwhereIamwhat'sgoingonhelpme, he thought, unable to control his quick, heavy breathing, sweating skin and wide eyes. This attracted the attention of the scientists, who immediately crowded round him, blocking the light and causing him to panic more and more until eventually, he passed out again thinking can'tbreathecan'tbreathecan'…
This time, when he woke, he couldn't remember who he was. Couldn't remember what he looked like, where he was. Didn't know what was going on. All he had in his head was one thought, and that was: Space. Give me Space. I need Space.
This will have a second chapter at some point, probably next week. Then it's time to fall off the face of the earth again and find something worthwhile to do.
Till then – see ya!
-S.