Notes: Published 09/08/14 / Edited 11/08/14
She was running. Running quite quickly, to her grotty, rusted bike. She had a five minute limit, and after this she'll be free for the day.
Chell was an employee at Aperture Laboratories, a facility just south from the blooming city in Upper Michigan. It was built inside a disused salt mine, leading the levels deeper, not higher. On the outside, it was a low-risen, shining white building whose appearance was on top priority. Contrary, the interior was degrading past the lobby.
Chell didn't know the reason behind any of this. She hardly understood how and why Aperture ran and what it ran for. She didn't know why the head of the laboratories disappeared suddenly, only to come back hooked up to bulky, noisy machines today. He ordered her to run an errand before allowing her to be dismissed, the one she was rushing to get right now.
She tucked up her lab coat, tying the ends around her waist. Forget the fashion disaster—as least the fabric won't get caught in the bike. The wheels refused to turn without sheer force, and Chell grunted loudly as she willed the metal to turn.
Out from the laboratories' parking lot, past the cold treat parlour. Her hair was a mess, the hastily tied ponytail travelled with the wind. The hardware store was just half a mile away.
The roads were quite lonely today. Chell went full speed and covered the distance in a couple of minutes. She dashed into the hardware store, where the cashier had her order on the counter, all set and ready. They knew how hard Cave Johnson was on his employees. An exchange of cash for extra nuts and bolts, and Chell was on her way back.
She had three minutes left, more than enough time to return, and let herself relax, her shoulders untwisting from the tenseness it has as Cave Johnson returned today. Even though she was set on his team of Highly Capable Humans and spent her youth around him, the man was intimidating nonetheless. It was a very sunny day; there was not a cloud in sight. The sun was just above the horizon, right about to set. It was Chell's favourite part of day—it was when she saw the last of the sun, fully, before dipping under then bringing a new world with a million little twinkles and her precious moon.
Paying too much attention to the sky, she didn't realise that there was a man on her path, gazing up at the sky with as much wonder she had in her eyes.
Then she hit him, and her instinct made her thought it was him against her, not her against him. Aperture was located on a lone road, ending to at wild-life habitat just past the gates. She had heard stories of scientists employed there going missing, and then turning up, dead in a ditch a few weeks after. The impact wasn't as harsh on Chell's side as it was for the man. She got off the bike immediately, almost thrown off, not uttering a single word.
The man had a lanky figure, mostly covered by a thick, beige coat— not odd, but surprising, since the first leaves of autumn just started falling—and he was on the floor, spluttering coughs. Chell apparently hit him right in the shin.
Finally understanding that the situation wasn't a threat to herself, since someone so affected by a hit in a shin couldn't do her harm, she opened her mouth to apologise, but he spoke over her.
"It's alright, it's alright, I'm fine," he said, willing himself to get up. "Go on." He took a look at her ID card, which was stationed at her right chest. "Aperture laboratories, is it? Management's tough there, I know. Maybe it's right to get going—"
He was interrupted by the screech of her bike tires. It was rude, of course, but it was true—management's tough at Aperture.
Six minutes. A minute late, she was. She chucked her bike forcefully on the curb, grabbed what she had to deliver, and ran her way through the lobby, up the rails, and into Cave Johnson's office.
Except it wasn't him who was there—It was Caroline, his faithful, modest assistant, always by his side. Cave and his bulky life support were nowhere to be found, leaving the rendered walls and carpeted floor of his office free from the slight hum of vibration.
"Oh, Delaney,"—that was Chell's last name, one she took from her adoptive parents who disappeared three years ago—"Thank you. Just hand that to me and you're free to go off."
Chell handed the package to her, and Caroline smiled at her. They look very similar; maybe it's both the dark eyes and dark hair they share. Chell pulled her lips to a smile too. Caroline could see that she had dimples, just like herself. The coincidence was funny at first, but after observing it closely, Caroline believed there was a reason why. She was in deep thought when Chell dismissed herself.
When Chell left the room, she took a deep sigh—she was expecting something much. Then she let out a dense laugh, since her lab coat was still tied around her waist. She wondered what the man she ran over thought about it.
Out the window, the sun was setting, giving the sky an orange hue. Chell took off her coat and her ID, leaving them in her personal drawer. She wore a tank top under her button-up, along with some jeans. Summer was just ending, after all. She fixed her ponytail and grabbed her bag, before leaving the facility for the day.
Her bike had suffered damage from her throwing it on the ground. The chain came off the chainring. She landed on her knees, sighing, and spent some time screwing them back together with the wrong tools. The night was cloaked in darkness when she stretched out, rubbing her hands on her jeans.
Strangely, the roads were once again isolated. She went at a slower pace this time, not in a rush. But just past the ice cream parlour she felt a thud, and a familiar cry as she almost hurdled to the ground.
Chell caught herself on her legs before she fell, her bike skittering on the pavement again, but for the other party otherwise. Once again, the man with a beige coat was sprawled out on the sidewalk.
This time, she spoke first.
"Sorry," was all she could manage out at first. Then she took a deep breath and tried again. "I am really sorry. Twice in a day—seems unlikely, but—"
"It's alright," said the man. He gave up on trying to get on two feet and just sat in the gravel, cross-legged. "I'm not hurt or anything quite major. Funny, meeting you again like this. Coincidental, too, yeah? I was just on my way back to that dessert place, you hitting me first made me forget my change."
Chell was surprised. This man, with his blond hair sifting through the moonlight, held much more surprises in a day than what a science facility could produce in a year. Seriously, not hating her for almost killing him? That's a new one.
"I'll have to pay you back for hurting you."
He put up his hands, as if in arrest. "No, no, it's fine—I wasn't really hurt in the first place. Um…help me up, would ya?"
She took his extended arm and pulled him up. For his thin figure, he was quite heavy. It became imminent how tall the man was. He probably stood a difference of five inches from Chell's full height, but the wave of his blond hair made him look taller.
"You were going to that ice cream place?" Chell asked him, once he dusted himself off.
"Yeah. I fancy a bit of dessert 'round this time of night. And last time I went there I forgot my change."
"I can pay for you."
"No, no, it's alright—I mean, it's absolutely fine…well, to be honest, quite odd, I don't even know your name…."
She picked up her old bike, but didn't get on it. "Chell."
"Shell? Like those lovely little things on the—"
"Chell. With a C. That's my name."
"Oh, alright, Chell." He smiled, the corners of his lips just slightly rising. "Chell. Nice name. I like it."
She started walking.
"Where are you going?" He said, dashing after her. "Oh—oh, okay, the ice cream parlour. Sorry, I understand now."
Chell didn't speak, but there wasn't any need to—he took up all the conversation space.
"If you're really not pulling my leg with the free ice cream thing, I'll have mint chocolate. Also, I'll grab the seat—I like it outside, with the moon. You alright with that? It'll be right by the first window to the left. Not really hard to spot."
She parked her (now broken) bike on the curb and was about to disappear behind blue tinted glass doors when he called out to her.
"Chell!" She turned around to look at him. His figure looked very unnatural under the full moon's light, but it gave him a haunting aura that well fit him particularly. "I forgot to tell you. Haha, oh, that rhymes. Anyway—my name. It's Wheatley."
"Wheatley," she said, softly.
Even with a few feet separating them, Wheatley could still hear her. "Yeah, it's Wheatley—quite dull compared to yours."
Chell smiled, the first genuine smile she gave today, before turning back into the small, bricked building.
Wheatley chose a tiny table with two seats away from all the others. It was right next to the corner of the parlour. One of its key features was that it gave a breathtaking view of the moon without any forest blocking it.
Chell came out just moments later, with one cone in her hand, sporting a three-tiered mountain of mint chocolate. Wheatley's mouth fell open when he saw what he got her.
"You really shouldn't have—"
"No," she cut him off. "You deserve it, Wheatley."
While he was enjoying his sorry-for-running-you-over-twice-in-a-day treat, Chell took this time to gaze at the street. She didn't see cars passing on the street. More accurately—she didn't see anything on the street.
"Chell," Wheatley called out after he had finished, her name soft on his lips. She turned to face him, and then with the moonlight hitting the right spot, his deep blue eyes seemed to glow. They bore into her soul, but they also had a manner of amiability. "You—you work at Aperture Laboratories, right? I saw your ID on a while ago. When you hit me first, yeah? Must be nice there, I've always wanted to work with science. Without the management problem. Well, I just wanna try it out first, maybe I'm not suit for it."
"We've got a test subject offering going on," said Chell, looking down to her hands to avoid glaring at his eyes. "It's part-time, but there's lots of science in it. Can you think with portals?"
"What? Portals? Those vortex things? Like tornadoes?"
"You don't know what a portal is?" She raised her head to meet his eyes again.
Wheatley leaned back on the plastic chair in defeat. "I always wanted to be close with science, but that doesn't mean I had the chance to."
Chell smirked. This Wheatley was an entertaining boy. "Oh, really? Science isn't the greatest thing to be up close and personal with. Cave Johnson—the head of Aperture, by the way—he disappeared from the labs once, and came back with all these machines hooked up to him. He's slowly dying."
"Is that why the laboratories doesn't have visitors anymore?" She could hear him gulp. "All I see are cars running away from it. I reckoned it was something with bad management that kid at the hardware store says—I didn't even think it would have to do something with…toxicity. And poison. Or, you know, whatever's causing him to dwindle…." He stopped looking directly at Chell—maybe it made her uncomfortable?
"The heads are too hard sometimes. Maybe that's another reason."
There was a silence between them. Not an awkward silence, but a general soft lull of conversation. Both of them felt slightly tranquil. Wheatley broke the silence, clearing his throat before speaking again.
"Have you—have you ever got in contact with those…You know—what's killing him?"
"Me? No. I don't do the dirty work or the gels. I'm an errand runner for the higher-ups. Unless it spreads through paper and documents, I think I'm fine."
Wheatley let out a contented sigh.
"Were you worried that I could have contaminated you?"
He faced her, showing an embarrassed look on him. "To be honest, yes, don't take it too seriously, please—"
"Don't worry. It's quite common for me."
Chell's face didn't show any sign of emotion in that moment, but Wheatley couldn't help but feel bad for her. "I'm sorry," he said softly, standing up. "Also—it's getting late. Might be taking up your personal time. Thank you…Chell."
"Goodbye." She didn't leave her seat, and Wheatley took this as a sign to go.
He just reached the exit when he heard the clamouring of plastic chairs and a sight breath, calling out his name.
"Chell?"
"Your—your test subject thing. Are you free tomorrow? Can we meet here around noon? I'll get it all sorted out for you."
He smiled, a generous, honest smile. "That would be great, thanks—thank you, Chell."
