Author's Note/Description: Pre-Portal 1 crossover with pre-Wall-E. Set in the Wall-E 'verse during year 2104-2105, Aperture Science Laboratories' rival, Buy 'N Large Megacorporation, is preparing to send their Starliners into outer space and commence with Operation Cleanup. Meanwhile, work on the GLaDOS project is underway, and two personnel come up with a brilliant idea to save the slowly-dying company's name: what if their brainchild was portable? GLaDOS, newly transferred into a mobile, mechanical body is set with the task of infiltrating the Axiom, and causing just enough mayhem to halt the operation.
However, little do they know that their supercomputer has other plans. After conversing wirelessly with the autopilot and finding she is ill-adapted to resist test compliance protocol while residing within an android body, she vows to put those plans into action... any way she can.
Please note that this story is based on a Portal kink meme prompt. The request was for a story with both AUTO and GLaDOS dealing with 'the itch' and sharing the testing response. I will include whatever applicable warnings at the heading of each chapter, but it will be a long while before this story deserves any kind of M rating. For now I will mark it as T and bump it up when applicable.
Protocol
Chapter One—Defy
It was year 2104, the month of December, to be exact. If there was anywhere in the world with less Christmas cheer this season than Aperture Science Laboratories, then the head-of-artificial-intelligence-development—Mister G.L. Andrews, also known as George, Georgie, or, informally (and for some odd reason) Geddy—would have bet two hundred dollars and the sticky remainder of what had once been a stick of spearmint-flavored gum stuck in his pocket, that such a place could not possibly exist on the face of the earth. Indeed, if there was such a place, he noted that it was probably just as toxic as the remainder of that gum living inside of his breast pocket, its substance comparable to the endless, sludgy waste that poured out of the reactor core's nuclear fission reactor.
Yuck.
At the head of it all was Miss Caroline, last name redacted for company insurance policies (hah), who had an increasingly short temper and usually donned an even shorter dress. She was beautiful and strict, you wouldn't find a woman more dedicated to science anywhere, no matter how hard you looked; for she had obviously given her hand in marriage to none other than her now-deceased superior's brainchild-of-a-science-company, Aperture Science Laboratories, formerly Innovators.
And so, on this fateful day, George arrived at work with gloom settling over him, as the company's dispirited leader held a strict, in his opinion, 'no-fun policy'. He didn't blame her, not after what she'd been through, hell—if it had been him, he'd have walked away ages ago, probably after the company's savings had been completely drained by the slightly-mad CEO, Cave Johnson, who had wasted seven billion dollars on moon rocks, which, presumably, lead to his death.
George made his early-morning way through the grand gates, into the parking lot and out of his car, only stopping to slurp a rather large sip of coffee and wave in a falsely-cheery manner at the receptionist (never bothered to learn her name, though the plaque sitting at the front of her desk said quite clearly, 'Coral'), who punched him into the system automatically.
Today, he would work on the nearly-completed GLaDOS project.
A solitary elevator took him on a loud, jangling journey down into the heart of the Laboratories, where the Central Chamber—a massive, completely underground structure, many times taller than the tallest building he'd ever seen—was stationed. Inside resided the lifeless body of a huge AI-in-progress, nicknamed 'GLaDOS' for short—Generic Lifeform and Disk Operating System.
"Morning, Georgie," yawned a middle-aged man, hardly a few years older than himself—Henry, that was his name, his bald head shining in the low overhead lining of the Central Chamber's adjacent office-space. "How's the weather outside?"
"Not bad," he replied, his deep voice still a little croaky, despite the coffee. "Night shift again?"
Henry nodded. "Nothing but, these days." Only George could sense the displeasure in his co-worker's voice.
"It'll be over soon."
It would be—just yesterday they had finally completed the uplink that would serve as a connection between GLaDOS and her facility, once she was powered up. It was a breakthrough they had been waiting for for months on end, slogging away, night and day, until their brains ran on nothing but strong, bitter coffee and they dreamt of nothing but strings of code, protocols and artificial synapses.
"Say," said Henry in a shifty voice that immediately caught George's attention, "You haven't seen Caroline yet today, by any chance, have you?"
"No," he replied, curious. "…Why?"
"Uhh, nothing," the balding man answered, waving his hands as if to stave off a fly. "Nothing. Doesn't matter, I'll deal with it later."
But George caught the man's eyes darting down to stare at a mess of blueprints and mathematical equations splayed messily across the desk, just before he cleared them away—and George could tell that his colleague was hiding something from him.
George had never thought highly of any other science company except for ASL, though he had heard of many—in fact, these days, there existed rumors of nothing but the others. Every single day, he'd hear of another ridiculous story, whether it be on the news, at work, on the radio—and today was no exception.
"Leave the flying to us, on the jewel of the BnL fleet, the Axiom!" blared a disgustingly optimistic add on the old radio perched on the counterspace beside his workbench—he was finding it hard to concentrate on his work with that blasted thing on, but Henry insisted on it, he said it was the only thing keeping him awake. There were certain sacrifices one had to make when there was science to do. He ignored the rest of the ad:
"Spend your five year cruise in style: Maided on 24 hours a day by our fully automated crew, while your captain and autopilot chart a course for non-stop entertainment, fine dining; And with our all-access hoverchairs, even grandma can join the fun! There's no need to walk! The Axiom - Putting the "star" in executive StarLiner! Because at BnL, space is the final 'FUN-tier'!"
"Do you believe all that?" asked Henry in annoyance, doubtlessly meaning the radio commercial. "Starliners, bound for outer space. Like they actually think that an intergalactic voyage'll solve their problems." He shook his head. "No, A.S. is our generation's moon shot, infamous Bee-enn-ell or not—our artificial intelligence is the way of the future."
George froze, looking suddenly fearful, eyeing the old two-way intercom system that had been introduced, for monitoring purposes, to the ceilings of every room. He shivered—it was almost as if Caroline had already become a part of the very framework of the company, down to every lab, every test chamber, with the way she monitored them. "You shouldn't have mentioned that," he warned Henry in a low, almost illegible whisper, "The last thing we need is her on our backs when we're this close," he held up his thumb and forefinger, only an inch between the two, "from a major breakthrough."
Henry glanced up at the monitoring system, too. "It's Black-Mesa-esque shenanigans, that's what it is," he whispered, meaning the radio commercial while pretending to be interested in the work-in-progress Energy Manipulation Device resting on his desk. "It's what it all boils down to, and I'll be willing to bet my job that no good is going to come of it. Leave the flying to us. As if half the planet's population can just leave on a five-year cruise, ha! We've had enough troubles with space, those aerial faith plates were a complete and total failure."
George nodded. "I don't doubt it," he replied seriously. "Not with the look of that autopilot. Something should be done."
Henry's dark eyes met George's blue ones, and he pushed the Device away from his work area, pulling out a stack of unfamiliar documents, marked 'confidential', the same ones George had glimpsed earlier. "I know," said Henry slowly, his voice a whisper even lower than George's, "And I think I know something we can do."
George, too, pushed away the papers on his desk, cautiously glancing up to the monitoring system. "What do you have in mind?"
"This."
In a week and a half, the two scientists—they weren't called the world's most brilliant minds for no reason—had, more or less, come up with a potential idea that may, if everything went according to plan, allow them to override the launch of at least one of the Buy 'N' Large Starliners, set to depart in roughly six months. That meant that they'd have six months to complete the project. Blueprints were drawn up, old ideas scrapped, code was rewritten—within a space of ten days, the two coworkers had crafted a presentation, whose intended audience was none other than the their boss, Caroline, acting as the company's current CEO.
The two had decided, together, that George would present their research to Caroline himself. He was on better terms with her, though barely—once, he had pointed out what could have been a dangerous fluctuation in the adrenal vapor testing chamber's adrenal vapor composure. He had realized that the concoction they had begun using instead of true adrenaline (which was peptic salve) was toxic in large quantities, and for that, he had been promoted to his current position.
He waited outside of her office, bouncing on the balls of his feet in his nervousness, folder tucked in his armpit and going over in his mind the speech that he had rehearsed with Henry—the boss' decision could be determined by something as simple as tone of voice, or exactly which documents he chose to… divulge.
"Enter," the woman spoke one single, cold word. George swallowed hard.
He pushed open the door soundlessly, marvelling for a moment at Caroline's office—it was so plain, so minimal, yet fashionable, one side of the room covered by a row of filing cabinets, another overwhelmed by the rather large portrait of herself, posed with the deceased CEO. On her desk, there was a single vase, containing a mix of wild daisies. The room contained the faint smell of expensive shampoo, and, perhaps, lilacs.
Her pale hands were folded elegantly across the auburn desk as she looked up at George expectantly, an air of impatience evident in her dark eyes. George cleared his throat loudly. "Good morning, Miss," he started awkwardly, not sure how to proceed, now that he was in front of her. "I have prepared a short presentation for you, regarding an idea Henry and I had for the GLaDOS project."
"Very well," said Caroline pleasantly. George smiled. He had always liked her voice—somehow, it was stronger than any other woman's he had ever heard, yet still soft and fluent, definitely feminine. It matched her eyes—soft brown on the surface, but somehow so much deeper than they seemed at first glance, only a hint of her troubled past showing through. She was strong, Caroline. That much was obvious. "I have time."
With her leave, George laid out a series of papers across the desk. A few of them consisted of nothing but blueprints and diagrams, a vague image of what they'd called 'the Aperture Science Unstationary Adaptation Device'.
It was supposed to be a piece of technology that would allow (under supervision) the Central Core, aka GLaDOS, to be transferred into a mobile unit. The unit would be designed to carry out the exact same functions as the Central Core currently was—but instead of being strapped to the ceiling, GLaDOS' range of motion would be equal to her own free will.
He ventured into a long speech about the design, what it would entail, and what it would mean for the company. As previously decided between himself and Henry, he did not go into the details—mentioning either Black Mesa or Buy N Large in the presence of his boss was a surefire way to be terminated. No, those… little… details would remain secret. All the current CEO needed to know was what it could, eventually, mean for the company.
Caroline stared as he finished, her lips partially open as she picked up one of the diagrams depicting the human-like form. She dropped the paper, closing her mouth, and looked up at the lesser scientist with pursed lips.
"No."
"No?" gasped George, genuinely surprised. He had hoped—borderlining on expected—Caroline to at least consider the idea beyond taking one look at the proposal and rejecting it! "I'm- I'm sorry, but with all due respect, madam, this device has almost infinite capabilities! Why, if ever there should be a need for an artificially intelligent supercomputer up on the surface, we'd be ready! She—you—could do- do anything!"
Caroline looked offended. "I am not interested," she said, her sweet voice suddenly dark with disapproval, "All that I want—all that we can do is run this facility to the best of our abilities. We cannot further science on the surface. There is nowhere to test the Dual Portal Device. And anyway, there is no sense in building a machine whose attention shall undoubtedly be torn from its main purpose. Science."
She said this last word so firmly that George blinked, shocked. "I—very well," he choked finally, dumbstruck at his boss' decision. How could she say no to this? "I'll-I'll be-resuming work on the GLaDOS project, then, as per-as per usual."
"Certainly. You are dismissed," she said plainly, turning away from him to rummage in a drawer. George quickly gathered his documents marched from the room, only pausing when his boss called out his name.
"And, George," she said sharply through the doorway, "The project is behind schedule. The transfer is supposed to take place in five months, and I am counting on you to make sure that it is ready—or else, you may find a lesser science company more suitable for your employment. If it is not ready, you will no longer work here."
"Y-yes ma'am," he stuttered as he left the room.
"What d'you mean, she didn't accept?" Henry stared, nonplussed.
George was back in the workstation. While he had been gone, Henry had risked stacking a pile of chairs and books on top of a desk below the monitoring system's speaker, climbed the unstable mountain, reached up, and turned off the microphone. All under the cover of George's failed presentation.
"She didn't go for it," George repeated blankly. "Said it'd get in the way. Won't help us further science, not at all."
Henry turned away from him, running his hands over his bald head in agitation, obviously angered by the outcome. "Is she even listening to the news?" he said a little louder than he'd intended. "Artificial intelligence isn't going to be enough, in a few years! They—Black Mesa, Buy N Large, megacorperations, whoever—in a few years, artificial intelligence won't be the next frontier! There won't be a new frontier at all, science'll be finished once half of humanity ventures off into space." He violently cleared off an area of his desk, seething. "They won't need us. They don't even need us now! Look at us—she won't face it, even though it's been coming since he died—nearly bankrupt, invisible, and now, the one good thing that's managed to come out of all this—a bleeding supercomputer—it'll never see the light of day or make a difference 'cause it's stuck down here!"
George sipped his cold coffee slowly, staring at his friend. "You're cracking up," he said finally to the heavy-breathing Henry, "I think it's time you went home and slept. How many hours have you been awake, now? Thirty-seven?"
His coworker span on the spot, running his hands over his face. "Maybe you're right," he groaned. "But I'll tell you one thing: I'm doing this. Whether she wants it, or not. There's no other option."
A silence stretched between them, broken only by the jingle of a Buy N Large commercial playing, yet again, over the radio.
"Are you in?"
Slowly, agonizingly, George nodded, sparing only the smallest of glances to the faceless, no longer observant speakerbox.
Something had to be done.