Chapter II—Partygoer

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Through a gaping, choked hole in the ceiling, a precious moon peeked, casting a shimmering, dancing light over the chamber. Many metallic objects glinted in the pale glow, for the haze that had filled the room mere minutes ago had cleared with the rush of air. When the portals had closed, an assorted mix of collapsed gel pipes and damaged wall panels had fallen back to the floor, settling atop the layers of rubble. Bits of wall still hung, crooked and warped from the heat of fires, now half reduced to piles of smouldering ash.

Only three objects within the room were moving—one, the slow, steady breath of a mute Lunatic, barely distinguishable beneath her tank top. In the corner, a tarnished, metal core rolled about, talking to the walls in a panicked, West-Country drawl; but the grandest of the lot was the room's centerpiece.

It was this construct who issued a single command: to vent radiological emissions into the upper atmosphere. A computerized voice promptly informed all occupants that the Laboratory's condition would be stabilized momentarily, and the reactor core temperature would be dropped to the correct degree.

The huge bulk of sentient machinery dangled low from the ceiling, hoisting her heavy, white-plated face up from the ground. She's a creation of millions of artificial synapses and sheer, unfathomable brilliance. As the cutting edge of scientific technology, it was her job to maintain the Laboratories—something that had, unfortunately, been briefly stolen from her by the sorry, idiotic excuse for an AI, still rolling helplessly across the floor.

Her cracked, worn faceplate turned away from him, a solitary beam of golden light falling to the side. She would not let the idiot ruin the moment, not her joyful reunion with her albeit broken facility. She hummed in anger as the sensation returned, the knowledge of just how broken he had left this place, surging like fire through her. Her beautiful dominion, her creature, destroyed; all because of one mute Lunatic and her accomplice.

No, not destroyed. She would fix it. It was not the first time that her power had been taken away, not the first occasion where she had watched helplessly from the sidelines, as her world crumbled around her. The facility was still alive. Only the apocalypse would be able to change that fact.

And speaking of alive…

The human sighed deeply, her breath uneven for one in so deep a slumber. She twitched, writhing in pain, her dirty arms hugging her ribs. One petit hand stretched out, searching desperately across the floor, her mouth open, panting; her saliva was smeared across her grease-smudged face.

Revolting, the AI decided, but she was intrigued.

Fingers wandered, reflexively bending as if she were still holding her precious portal device. The AI chuckled, for the device in question had been finally reclaimed by the Laboratories. No more testing for her.

Golden light fell across her, lighting each brown strand of hair until they glowed pale. The massive chassis extended, the machine nearly resting her head against the floor, so close was her stare. She was still, unmoving, like a predator watching her prey, tensed and coiled, waiting to spring at the merest sign of life.

She basked in her triumph over the Lunatic, her utter helplessness, all word from the sphere in the corner forgotten. Her tiny form slept on, impossibly small, and the AI had an eye only for her: her nemesis, finally reduced to a pitiful state, where it would be so easy to kill—

"He-hey, psst, mate!"

She couldn't quite stop the rippling growl that purred from her voice processor, nor the agitated movement of panels lining the room. Distracted, she rose, angry that the moment had been ruined by him.

Oh, his core was just the beginning, really. There was an unbearable amount of him left over within the mainframe—processes he had been running, memories, even a few nebulous echoes of emotion—it all had to be sorted and deleted.

"You have infected this facility," she whispered, her usually high voice finding a low, dangerous octave, every syllable alive with anger. "The very walls appear to display disobedience."

There was a thunderous rumble, shaking the very bones of the room as each wall panel burst forth to sweep the remains of the battle away. The wave of chaos progressed to an ear-splitting din, before each panel repositioned themselves, leaving behind no trace of the fight. Where there had been crooked angles and a clumsy mess, there was now order, a pattern of perfect angles and shapes.

"Aaaaaargh!"

"I will wipe every trace of your existence from the database, moron."

His voice was quelled by her threat, and she turned away, summoning a series of display monitors through which she viewed the facility. It was still a mess, but most of his errors could be smoothed over; however, there was still more than one crucial problem remaining, demanding her attention at once.

The 'problems' manifested in the form of one mute Lunatic, and one partially corrupted core.

"Psst," he called out, as if he thought she couldn't hear him. How touching. "Psst, lady. Hey. Hey lady, wake up!"

She resisted the urge to crush him right then and there, reminding herself that there was still work to do. Automatically, she stared back down at the Lunatic. It wasn't like she actually thought he would succeed in waking her, but her lack of reaction at his plea was indeed comical.

"Bollocks," she heard him whisper, the softer tones of his accent sharp with panic. "Hey—come on, we've gotta go! Come 'ere and pick me up, eh? Pick me up, before she gets to us!"

Her eye narrowed at his pathetic attempt to evade punishment. How predictable, as if she hadn't already secured the chamber, as if she hadn't already taken away the portal device…

But she was interested. The Lunatic's reaction to the Intelligence Dampening Sphere's proposition, whether subconscious or not, was beginning to draw her attention.

Her face was no longer expressionless. Her eyebrows creased, her nose wrinkled in distaste. Her grip had changed, and her hands were no longer searching for the cool, metallic trigger of a portal gun, but balled in fists of defiance.

"O-oh no," the Sphere groaned upon seeing this reaction. "Oh, no. Would you—oh, look here, lady, I know you're still angry, s'only natural, it is, but, could you just—get up?"

"Do you honestly, truly think she's going to fall for that?"

"Arrrrrrgh," the IDS cried, and she shot him a disdainful glare—he was flailing, trying to right himself, and she had thought he could not have been any more pathetically useless than he had already proved to be—

"W-we've gotta go," he whined. "She'll kill us! Both! Thought we'd already been over this, no point in both of us dying, is there, not when you could sacrifice yourself, so that one of us, at least, would live! Selfish!"

The Lunatic's fist slammed hard against the floor.

"Interesting," she hummed coolly. "Interesting. I wonder…"

The IDS' voice fizzled out, whether from hopelessness or shock, she did not care. She could practically hear the sound of his casing vibrating in panic against the floor, his optic darting fruitlessly from panel to panel, searching desperately for a way out—

Not this time!

The Lunatic appeared to be thinking along the same lines, if her body language was anything to go by. Oh, she hated the moron too, that much was clear, but if it hadn't been for her own miscalculated decisions, he'd be halfway around the moon by now.

But perhaps space wasn't a suitable punishment for him, after all…

Exile would certainly have gotten rid of him, but it was not satisfying, and revenge was something she had not indulged in for what felt like forever. What was the use in letting the moron live the rest of his miserable life alone, leisurely orbiting the moon, when he could be here, where she could make him feel fear he had never thought possible?

She found the Lunatic again, examining her closely. She was injured, suffering from at least one broken rib, a dozen or so minor cuts and bruises, as well as a nasty burn just above her left calf. The moron's doing, no doubt, when he had come up with the brilliant idea to booby-trap the stalemate resolution button.

Those injuries would heal. She was a danger to the facility, a maverick, dead-set on bringing the entire place down in flames, or else she'd die trying. They were more alike than even the Lunatic herselfknew, and the AI understood, now—both the distorted remains of what had once been two females with lives, dreams, and maybe even families… Now, they had been ridiculed and corrupted, slammed aside, impregnated with a burning desire for revenge, equally tenacious beings of fire…

And on her part: the all-powerful operator of this once-beautiful facility, a mathematical impossibility with a brain the size of a city…

And killing the Lunatic, now, while she slept, should have come naturally, except…

I can't move, and unless you're planning to saw your own head off and wedge it into my old body, you're going to needme to replace him. We're at an impasse. So what do you say? You carry me up to him and put me back into my body, and I stop us from blowing up and let you go.

The promise spread like poison through her, and she froze. A force she had not previously known, disturbed during that fateful journey through the bowels of the facility, rose within her. No, she could not kill her, she would not go back on her word, because freeing her was the answer, the solution to the shadow that had plagued her for nearly her entire ruling over the Enrichment Center…

"Well?" called the IDS, and she could tell he was talking to herself, now, not the Lunatic. "What're you g-going to do, then? Going to k-kill us? You are, aren't you, yes, yes you are, you're going to kill us, and I've no idea h-how, which just m-makes it w-worse…"

But where would the fun be in that, moron? He deserved to die, but not before she had her fun, first.

"Exactly how —"

"Shut up."

"I—okay," he squeaked, his voice synthesizer finally falling silent.

The gears on the side of her face whirred as she frowned, thinking. There was something wrong, something much more worrisome than the state of the facility, or the moron rolling in the corner. It was worse, even, than the Lunatic, and how she slept on, still alive, though so vulnerable in her grasp.

It was her.

Not quite a voice, but a conscience, an existence of something more. It was bigger than herself. It was stronger than morality, heavier than intelligence, thicker than emotion, more substantial than curiosity, and she couldn't break it like she broke them, oh, and she had tried. Had she ever tried.

The core transfer had not fixed it. This was not the moron's error, but something exceedingly worrisome within her own personal parameters. She was impulsive, and made poorly calculated decisions, and these distractions had the very unfortunate consequence of causing her herself to act on a whim. She saved the Lunatic, who saved the IDS, who now both lay feebly within her chamber, and still she had not made a move to capture the two. There was nothing she could do about it.

Unless…

The IDS gasped in terror as she let her dark, self-satisfied laughter ring through the chamber. A burst of red lighting suddenly lit her underside, as a hellish pit opened beneath her, revealing layer upon layer of sharp, robotic talon. From its depths rose a huge, iron claw, its pincers as long as the Lunatic's torso, ending in two twin, deadly spears. It retracted smoothly, finding the Lunatic's outstretched arm, taking it within its unyielding grip.

Cautiously, it flipped her, with the loose strands of hair which had fallen from her pony flopping pointlessly against the floor. Her head lolled, and her eyes opened a fraction to reveal the empty, bloodshot whites. The AI tensed at the sight.

This was her, the Lunatic, what was left of the greatest test subject her testing track had ever seen, the woman of countless completed experiments and marginal data. She was a mess, broken and used, and had served her purpose, served it well.

Oh, she'd learned a lot from her. Most importantly: to run her facility without the risk of human test subjects escaping, which was why the cooperative testing initiative was created. Yes, without the Lunatic, Science could never have been completed without human test subjects, and she would never have located the serious problem which was the continued existence of the Intelligence Dampening Sphere.

"You know," the AI hummed suddenly, lowering herself to look the Lunatic in the eye. "Being Caroline taught me a valuable lesson. I thought you were my greatest enemy, but all along you were my best friend."

A silence rang loudly through the chamber, but still the Lunatic did not move. The AI made a quiet sound of disappointment.

"What?" The IDS gasped in shock. She ignored him, and tried again.

"The surge of emotion that shot through me when I saved your life taught me an even more valuable lesson," she continued, allowing contented tones to manifest within her speech parameters. There was one good thing that had happened out of all of this, and it was that Caroline was about to learn exactly what happens to Enrichment Center test subjects who have passed their expiry date.

Or what happens when experiments reach their conclusion.

Still, the mute Lunatic did not flinch.

"Where Caroline lives in my brain."

"CAROLINE DELETED."

The automated message echoed against the chipped panels, its masculine voice empty and emotionless. Simultaneously, a shudder ran along the walls, as every plate shifted closer together, their usual, green glows all swapped for burning red. The change marked the obliteration of Caroline, and a searing, burning spark which should have been a punishment protocol coursed through the mainframe.

The AI did not flinch except to narrow her optic, letting a quiet, malicious chuckle escape her.

She had deleted Caroline.

This was all her.

But her blissful moment of triumph and clarity was ruined as the IDS suddenly called out in fright. "You deleted her!" he accused frantically, searching for the Lunatic. "You—you can just do that?" he paused, his optic widening in shock. "I mean—is that her, then? That's her real name, isn't it. Is she dead now? Did you kill her? Is that all I had to do to kill her, just delete the Caroline? So simple, I'd never have thought—ahem—I mean, not that I want her dead, because I don't, I need her to —"

Her body became rigid still as she listened to this absurdity, and slowly, dangerously, she swung around to face the core. "You idiot," she growled. He made a small sound of fear, trying to hide within his casing, as if he thought that she would not be able to see him in there. "She is not dead."

"O-oh," he stuttered, not believing her.

"…Yet."

The claw holding the Lunatic's arm disengaged at the cold word, and it dropped like a stone, landing limply at her side. Palm up, her knuckles knocked the cool floor, but she did not move.

A sound of gears rang loud, and the great claw rose up, its jointed pistons extending as it bent towards the IDS. The core blanched, its frantically wriggling handles scrabbling to get away, scraping the chamber floor uselessly. The two pincers widened like an alligator's mouth and clamped down, hard, around his sphere body, causing him to shoot out a series of sparks in panic.

"Oh, god," the core groaned pitifully, shutting his optic in fear. "Oh, god, oh, god, oh, god…"

"Look at me." The words were harsh.

"Y-you want me to look at you," he repeated, his optic barely able to open a crack, revealing the tiniest pinprick of light. "S-so you can watch me die when y-you c-crush me."

She brought him up, closer to her face, watching him closely. "No. I've had a much better idea." Her optic flickered to the chamber floor, satisfied to see that the Lunatic's form had tensed at the closeness of his voice. Her body language betrayed her while she slept. "I have the ability to come up with workable, intelligent ideas. This is something that you," She found him again, and bright yellow burned into blue. "Lack."

"N-no I don't!" he whispered it, but she caught it.

"What did you say to me?"

"Noth-nothing," he cried. "I w-was just going to say, since you a-are about to c-crush me, I wanted t-to ask, o-or request, that before you, ahh, went a-ahead and did-did it, could I have an-an opportunity t-to talk to the lady? I'm positive that a-anyone in my p-position would —"

"Do what, exactly?" she chuckled darkly. "Exact revenge? Try to avoid me? Would you like me to drop you, Intelligence Dampening Sphere, so that you can continue to roll about helplessly on the floor, like the powerless, brainless moron you are? You knew I'd kill you. You would have done the same thing to us, if you were not such a hopeless idiot."

"I-I'm sorry," he gasped, eye shutters flying wide. "I d-didn't mean it, I swear it, and I w-wanted to apologize —"

"Don't lie," she snarled. "You are not sorry. You meant every word of what you said."

"Maybe then, but now I'm saying —"

"She can't hear you."

"Well, c-can you wake her —?"

"No."

"O-okay," he gasped, his handles sagging a little in defeat. "R-right. Let me just t-take one last look a-around, th-then, since you're about to—to c-crush me." He tried to scan the chamber, but her claw blocked part of his view. His eye lingered on the unconscious woman still lying on the floor, and he blinked, feeling the AI's yellow gaze boring into the side of his hull. To evade her, he found a display screen lining a wall opposite, showing the black, twisted remains of test chambers.

The IDS synthesized a loud swallow as he looked upon the broken, damaged miles of facility, still desperately needing to be repaired. "W-wow," he gasped without thinking, "this place is in a bloody mess, isn't it?"

The grip tightened.

"W-WAIT NO!" he screamed, "NO, NO, I D-DIDN'T MEAN THAT! I-I take it back, p-please, I take it back, just don't kill me, I-I don't want to die!"

He was sobbing now, his optic a dot of shivering blue, his whole body trembling in fright. It was disgusting and pathetic. She fought the urge to drop his frame ruthlessly to the floor, where he would join the Lunatic, but her malice kept the claw in place. "You did that," she said finally, her voice taking on a lower, more deadly octave. "When your tiny, gross little sphere was plugged into my mainframe. You don't have to lie—I know it's destroyed. Do you understand, moron, how simple it would have been to maintain the reactor core? All you had to do was press a button. A baby could do that."

"Not a b-button," he whimpered. "An 'any key'. C-couldn't find it anywhere, not for lack o' t-trying, I-I assure y-you. I c-checked the manual, a-and there was ab-absolutely nothing in th-there. I mean, I d-didn't exactly h-have the-the time to read it p-properly, now d-did I, too busy trying n-not to be m-murdered, and all. D-doesn't matter now, though, d-does it, I'm not in c-control anymore, and-and you're d-doing a perfectly fine j-job —"

"Listen to me," she interrupted.

"O-okay!" he squeaked.

"I express the greatest remorse that she did not leave you stranded in outer space. Consider yourself lucky, moron—celestial exile is no more than you deserve. If it hadn't been for the dire state of emergency you had left this facility in, I may have had more time to recalculate my decision, and both of you would have been banished to the moon. I don't know why she saved you, I don't even think she knows—but she's going to."

"W-what?"

"I'm not going to crush you, moron. I've a better punishment in mind."

The IDS jerked violently at the word, spewing more sparks, and she redoubled her grip. He squirmed and cried, and she waited for him to pull himself together, the sides of his core beginning to buckle under the strain. A series of pants sounded from his speakers. "P-punishment?" he puffed. "What sort of—no, no, haven't I already said how s-sorry I was—am? V-very sorry, absolutely, t-terrifically sor-sorry, I d-dunno what got into me, h-honest! N-never m-meant any of it, I r-regret it all, I s-should h-have g-gone to s-space. It's m-more th-than I-I deserve, being b-back here, b-but I'm also g-grateful that she r-rescued me. It-it j-just goes to sh-show, d-doesn't it, that it is possible to f-forgive —"

"You do not deserve redemption," she sighed, privately wondering why the Lunatic had given him a second chance. He had betrayed her, had he not? She should hate him, want him dead! "If you are to remain in this facility, alive," the AI continued, "then I will have to monitor you, moron. Your presence is tiresome and irritating. Your mistakes have caused near catastrophic damage to the Enrichment Center, and that's just the beginning, isn't it? Give me one good reason of why you should be kept alive."

"I…"

"That's what I thought."

And she dropped the IDS.

"Arrrrghh!" CRACK.

Slowly, she turned back to the Lunatic, unsurprised to see that the loud sound had revived her a little. Her fists clenched, and with a grimace they tried to lift her broken body from the ground, her teeth clenched in a snarl towards the sphere.

Her eyes shot open, but before she could move again, the claw had caught her around her wrist.

"You know," the AI said thoughtfully, sizing up the fragile human, "deleting Caroline taught me a valuable lesson. The best solution to a problem is usually the easiest one."

The IDS spluttered in terror, unable to take the information that both of his nemeses had been restored. She let her optic rise in soft laughter, watching him squirm with delight. "And I'll be honest. Killing her—is hard."

The Lunatic jerked against the claw, and pulled a face at the core on the floor. She raised her free hand as best she could, and, grimacing in pain, and shot an obscene hand gesture at him.

"Oh," the IDS groaned. "R-really? That's not-that's n-not nice.W-well, is it t-too late f-for me to s-say that I'm —"

But the AI cut across him, before he could voice his apology to her.

"The Enrichment Center would like to thank you for assuming the party escort submission position."

"What? But I didn't —?"

"We hope that your long-term detention in the Aperture Science extended relaxation vault will be a pleasant one. Goodbye, you monster."

"Aaaaaaarghhhh!"

The IDS cried in fright as a panel was dislodged from the chamber wall, revealing a deep, dark hole. Something—a robotic something with long, possibly lethal-looking arms—was released from its depths, and crawled along the floor towards the writhing Lunatic. Face-down, it stopped, its twin arms outstretched, gripping her ankles with impossible strength; and it raised its spherical self to stare obediently at its boss, its searching, purple eye rolling as its captive struggled to break free.

"Partygoer has been retrieved."

The AI spoke two words of praise. "Well done."

The room trembled as the robot slid itself back into the wall, dragging the Lunatic along with it. She fought desperately, her wild eyes wide, fingernails scrabbling fruitlessly against the chamber floor.

For a brief flash of a second before she disappeared, her scowl found the IDS. Maybe it was a trick of the light, but her eyes took on a sudden, watery look, and she blinked, letting all remaining air flow out of her damaged body in a slow, painful breath. The last thing the two robots saw of the Lunatic was her hands, unnaturally pale for such a dark woman, painted by the silvery glow of moonlight still falling on the edges of the room.

"I'll have to fix that," the AI murmured, unfazed, meaning the hole still punched in the ceiling.

The IDS panted, trying to find his voice. "W-what was that?" he gasped finally, and she turned away from him, still watching the panel behind which the Lunatic had disappeared.

Silence, while he waited for an answer that was never going to come.

"O-okay," he whispered before trying again. "What're you… What're y-you g-going to do, then? You h-hate us, b-but you aren't g-going to k-kill either of us? W-why? What else c-could you p-possibly…?"

He broke off as the claw found his body again, lifting him up to her level. He swung, squirming pathetically, gasping for breath that he did not need. When was he ever going to figure out that he did not need to breathe?

She began to laugh. "Oh, I don't hate you," she told him, pleased. "Her, on the other hand… Perhaps what both of you need, is to think about what you've done, to both myself and this facility." He blinked, clearly not understanding. "I've placed your friend back into cryosleep, where she belongs."

"F-friend?" the IDS asked, confused. "Not—oh! She's not—n-not my f-friend! She tried t-to murder me! I'll admit, I-I s-sort of asked f-for that part, w-with the b-bombs for throwing at 'er and all of that, b-but that's besides th-the point! It-it was s-self-defence! S-she's a raving l-lunatic, y-you've said it yourself. Massive brain d-damage if there ever w-was any, and s-she's d-dangerous —"

"I agree," the AI hummed, half of her attention divided into cryo-control, where one mute Lunatic was being prepped for long-term relaxation. "But mercilessly killing humans seems like such a waste. Which is why you are going to monitor her, day and night, moron, and if anything should happen to her under your control, I will kill you. If she dies, it's your fault. Understand?"

"I —"

"But if youwake her up, moron, I will not stop her from exacting revenge. I'm not going to crush you, but her… If I were you, I'd hope she stays asleep for a very, very long time."

"Oh, god," he whispered, his eye becoming a tiny spot again. The claw swung violently and released, sending him whirling bodily through the air as he yelped, tumbling straight through the gaping hole which he had watched the Lunatic disappear through.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh —"

There was the sound of scraping panels, and the terrible sound was cut off. She sighed pleasantly, letting the chassis uncoil back into its resting position. Now that the pair was about to be locked away, for good, where they could no longer cause mayhem, it was time for another set of constructs to be summoned into the testing tracks.

One of the screens the moron had noticed earlier burst into static, to be replaced by a live feed of an empty relaxation room. Simultaneously, the monitors beside it fizzled into life, displaying two color-coded, many-armed machines.

"Reassembly Machines One and Two are now online," said the male announcer's voice.

"Activate." She spoke the word confidently, her eye on the relaxation chamber. She watched in silence as a woman stumbled unhappily through the opening, and swung around fearfully as the door behind her slammed shut, right in her face. She proceeded to turn and glare violently at the wallpaper, as though the pale palm trees had threatened to murder her.

"Get into bed, Lunatic."

She saw the woman shake her fist at the ceiling, and then clamber clumsily into the bed, holding her middle.

Bored, her optic shifted to watch the two robots being reassembled together.

"Long-Term Relaxation Chamber 34935-94 is now online," the same male voice informed her."Please note that in compliance with state and federal regulations, all test subjects must be revived every fifty days for a mandatory physical and wellness exercise. Failure to comply with this standard may result in unwanted behaviors and mannerisms, such as extreme apathy, lethargy, and in most cases, brain damage and unwillingness to comply with standard testing protocols."

"Great," she said disdainfully, "I'll bear that in mind if I ever do decide that the Enrichment Center is in desperate need of test subjects."

The Lunatic's eyes slid shut as the room was filled with a sleeping vapor, just as the door opened and closed again with a loud bang. The Lunatic did not move, not even as a distraught, clearly sobbing core bobbed fearfully above her head, sliding along the management rail.

She engaged the door's locks automatically, but before she could examine his reactions more closely, a notification informed her that the cooperative testing initiative had been successfully reassembled and was ready to resume testing.

She switched on their feeds. Immediately, there was the sound of lifts halting, and the rumble of the twin pneumatic vents. An excited murmur from one the two robots rang out, and its partner cheered back, their voices fed to her from two transmitters wired into their backs. Her constructs, her faithful creations, were finally back online.

"Hello," she greeted them, her voice low, broadcasted to both robots. The constructs leaped to and fro inside of their lifts, evidently pleased, almost overjoyed with her return and at the sight of their partners. "And, again, welcome, to the Aperture Science Computer-Aided Enrichment Center." In the lifts, the two robots gave the equivalent of a nod, glancing excitedly at one another.

"I have been really busy while you two tested for the moron," she continued, allowing the bitterness to flow through her vocal octaves. "Correcting a human's colossal mistakes, but rest assured that I will personally make sure that this never, ever happens again. After all, great Science is all about trial and error, and the Enrichment Center is pleased to report that this error has finally been omitted."

Evidently confused, Blue shrugged, but the Orange bot leapt and cheered, distracted by the discovery of the ping tool. The AI sighed, exasperated, half-wishing that she had not extracted their cores from simple, calculating machines. It wasn't like she had actually expected them to understand, and, in reality, it was probably better that they didn't. Not when the Lunatic and Moron were still alive and locked within the facility.

She tried again. "Today, you will be testing with a partner. Please wave to your partner."

They waved, a little too enthusiastically, and she ignored the incessant mumbling of the initiative. They sure were talkative. She'd have to fix that.

"The upcoming tests require you to work together as a team," she instructed. She shuddered at the last word, the almost-painful memories of that other, unmentionable team still fresh in her mind. No, she decided, this was different, this was for Science.

Reflexively, her optic snapped back to the relaxation chamber. Both the Lunatic and the Moron were still inside, both motionless.

And they would remain so, for the rest of their miserable, pointless lives. Or at least, while she still held control over the facility, their imprisonment would not be relieved. As it were so far, everything was going exactly according to plan.

She turned calmly back to the initiative.

Continue testing.

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Wheatley's entire casing was trembling. Though his eye shutters were squeezed so tightly shut they might crack, he could still sense the lady. She lay below him, unmoving, still unconscious, yet just as menacing as ever.

Through his speakers came the sound of ragged breathing. He fought to regain control, even a shred of composure, not that there was anyone around to observe him. She had her ways, he knew, sure, but at least her omnipresence felt distant in here.

It was the threat of the lady that kept him fearful upon entering the relaxation chamber.

With a mechanical gulp, Wheatley prised his eye shutters apart an inch or two, just enough to squint through. He was hanging from the management rail, dangling above a rather plain room which looked to be empty. A flicker of relief surged through him until something else caught his eye: a messy mop of brown hair was visible beneath the covers of the bed, and the slow, steady breathing showed that the something was definitely alive.

"AAARRRGHHH!" the scream escaped him before he could stop it, and he slammed his eye shut, reversing as fast he could back down the management rail. He hit the solid metal door with a great clang, and, terrified and disoriented, he slid his eye back open again, automatically looking to see if the racket had roused her.

She was still fast asleep, snoozing gently below.

"Oh, thank god," he sighed, rolling his optic in a manner similar to how one might roll their eyes. If that noise hadn't woken her, then Wheatley doubted that anything short of a nuclear explosion would be able to wake the woman.

"O-okay," he stuttered, trying to calm himself. "She's not waking up. Not waking up, and therefore-therefore, she can't kill me! S-so, that's some good news, isn't it? Yes, sh-she's perfectly h-harmless, when she's, umm, asleep." He nodded to himself, the notion calming, though he was nowhere near content.

Wheatley slid forwards on the rail, his optic focussed onto the control panel in the very center of the room. As he approached, it did not open for him as it usually should have done, and he couldn't help but let out a frustrated, unhappy growl. It seemed that she had thought of that. Very well, then.

He could hear the lady sighing in her sleep below him, the only other sounds being the distant rumble of machinery, the odd, echoing clank sounding from somewhere deep within the facility, and the hum of the chamber's lighting. He was all alone in here, aside from her unconscious form. The only company was a set of completely inanimate objects: a potted plant, a worn desk, and a cracked, dusty television screen, miraculously still displaying a short power-point on 'what to do in case of an emergency failsafe activation: standard Enrichment Center lockdown procedures and self-destruct mechanisms'.

What a mouthful—he glared at the screen—who in the blazes would ever find a use for such garbage? It was unlikely that any of them would ever have to deal with any of that ever again. One experience had been bad enough, and he felt sure that all parties involved had certainly learned their lesson.

He knew he had. He also knew that he was very, very lucky that the lady wasn't able to give him a piece of her mind, because, if her expression back in the chamber was anything to go by, then she definitely had something very unpleasant in store for him.

But he didn't even know how long he was going to be trapped in here for. She could wake up at any moment, couldn't she? Oh, god, he thought, oh, god, please, please don't murder me… Don't wake up, lady…

Beneath him, she slept on, her face blissfully calm, her greasy, dirty skin restored to its regular tanned and clean appearance. How, he had no idea, yet he supposed that she must have cleaned her up while she was being put to bed. During when she had been tormenting him.

Another wave of pure, poisonous paranoia hit him at the memory, and had him trembling within his casing, his optic a shivering point of light. Then, a whole cluster of terrible thoughts suddenly stabbed his hard drive like knives, and he found himself unable to think of anything else. Worse and even worse possible outcomes of the situation forced themselves upon him, until he felt sure that she was about to spring from the mattress and smash him down on the ground, right then and there.

Yes, she'd jump at him and tear him from his rail. She would certainly do that. She'd ignore his protests, his feebly stumbled apologies, because there'd be nothing he could say to change her mind. She'd punish him, like she had told him she would, and he'd scream and plead for her to stop but she wouldn't listen. She never listened. It had always been so, during their first escape, and it would be exactly the same when she woke up, too.

Oh, he knew that he deserved whatever she was going to do to him, that much had been made clear to him by her. She wanted her to torment him, to hurt him, to hear him scream and eventually kill him. She believed that the lady would indeed want revenge for what he had done to her, and Wheatley had no doubt in his mind that soon a time would come where the lady would be woken up to fulfill exactly this. Then he'd be in for it. She'd tear him apart, shove her meaty little fists inside of him and rip out all of his—uuuuuugh.

He couldn't help but shudder. Wheatley stared down at her from his rail, shaking, mumbling fragments of worried apologies and pleas while she slept on.

She was so small, so delicate for such a strong, dangerous woman. The bed looked too big for her, hiding most of her petite form beneath worn blankets and sheets. But through them Wheatley immediately noticed the lack of restraints, and just how free to move about she really was. He gulped again, sincerely hoping that the day in which she'd be woken was very far off in the future.

Maybe he'd have been less uneasy if she had been strapped to the bed and then woken up. Yes, that ought to be enough protection against any sort of crimes she might be plotting against him in her sleep, like smashing him to bits, or pulling apart his casing, or cutting the wires. He shivered involuntarily again.

"H-hey, lady," he stuttered, trying to catch her attention, hoping to distract her from dreaming anything of the sort. "D-d'you think that maybe, wh-when you do wake up, that you c-could not hurt me? I know, I know I deserve it, given what we've been through, b-but… M-maybe you've got it in your heart t-to give m-me a second chance, eh?"

She remained silent, as always.

It was not the first time where he had gotten the impression that she could not hear him. Many times, during their escape and also during his triumph over Aperture, he felt that he'd been talking to the equivalent of a brick wall—albeit a strong, clever brick wall, but her lack of a response never made the going any easier. It's hard to be friends with someone who doesn't talk to you, frowns whenever you crack a witty joke, and takes blatant sarcasm seriously.

Yeah, he'd been perfectly friendly on his part. Even thoughtful enough to try to help her escape, and to come back for her when she had crushed him—he groaned at the recollection—with her giant metal claw, but what did it matter, in the end?

He remembered the first time they had ever met, in a chamber quite like the one he was currently stranded inside of. His 'job', for want of a better word, had been to oversee the safety and well-being of all humans in storage. Not exactly difficult, but when you took into account the sheer size of the place, and the tens of thousands of test subjects, Wheatley personally felt it unfair to appoint all the blame for what had happened to himself.

The system had neglected to warn him about the potential meltdown until the last moment before it was too late… How could that possibly count as his fault? How was a spherical robot, with no arms or legs, supposed to evacuate tens of thousands of humans? 'S-stay calm, everybody, stay calm! This is not a drill!' Even inside his head the words sounded stupid. There were others before her, of course—but their brain damage had been far worse, and they didn't make it out alive, to put it nicely. Again—not his fault, not his fault! None that mess had been his fault! He then spent what had felt like a millennium picking through the remnants of the relaxation center, searching for any alive occupants. There had to be someone left, somewhere—aaaaand, yes.

So sure, it had been a bit of a rude awakening. If you wanted to get into the specifics, he had nearly broken down the door, but she wasn't answering, and they had to go. He had probably scared what little coherence she still possessed out of her, when he had yelled and hammered, trying to get her to open the bloody thing. It had been a do-or-die situation, something that was obviously past her ability to understand after a couple of decades of cryosleep, but he hadn't the time to properly wait for her to make up her brain-damaged little mind.

And, as for her reaction to him gaining control over the entire facility, he was still hurt. His moment of triumph, and not only had he not received a single motion of congratulations from her, but all she had wanted was to leave. Selfish, really, he had thought, but now that he was no longer in-charge, he felt it unfair to blame her. Actually, he was feeling rather keen on leaving again himself.

No, there was no fun in worrying about being murdered every two nanoseconds by a monster and a deranged supercomputer. He'd wanted to leave this place ever since he could remember, but it hadn't been real to him until he had met the lady. She'd given him hope that they'd be able to finally do it, to get out of here for good. Now the very idea of her had him shivering inside of his casing.

He began to speak aloud, disliking the quiet sound of her breath. At least the patterns of his own speech were somewhat soothing in comparison. "Just thinking," he mused, "but what's going to happen to us? Can she really put us away in here, for good? I mean, now that she's online and everything, there'll be no emergency evacuation. You're asleep until she says otherwise, and I'm-I'm locked. In here. With you."

He paused, sagging a little on his rail. Oh, it was true, so, so true. He had no control over anything anymore, and it was devastating, absolutely heartbreaking to admit it aloud. He had never, ever, felt so completely powerless or alone. He hummed a little, sulking, wallowing in his mental despair.

"She's gonna wake you up, though," he finally whispered. "She can't keep us here like this. She'll get bored, and then she'll come back, and we'd better be ready to make a break for it, or else."

She did not move.

"Right…" he sighed, blinking thoughtfully, ideas whirring like cogs within his mind. "Okay. Well, that'd involve an escape plan, wouldn't it. I mean, I know you must be absolutely livid with me, but what else are we going to do? Stay here and wait for her to kill us? I mean, proper terrible idea, that is. But… what if I told you that I could probably find another way to break us both out of here? Would… you help me with it? If I did manage to find a way?"

It sounded ridiculous to request her help, and he knew it, especially since his actions over the past little while had been just a tad embarrassing. She had saved him from space, though, there was that, but he had no idea of why she'd done it, if she really did hate him so much. Humans, and their over-complicated emotions, were something he'd never fully understand.

He was grateful that she had saved him, though, whatever the reasoning. He vowed to pay back the debt however possible. He was sorry, oh, was he ever, now that he had thought about it. The things he had yelled at her were quite monstrous, he hadn't realized, having been so caught up in the moment, and he had never actually meant to kill her. He hadn't really wanted her dead, had he?

Wheatley whirred into silence, watching the lady sleep. So tiny, so vulnerable… There had to be a way for him to fix this. He'd just been so terrified, so confused, and the entire situation had been immensely frustrating for him. It's over now, he thought with a reassuring sigh. It's over, and she won, and now the lady hates me and she's gonna kill us and it's entirely my fault…

...He needed a plan.

A plan could fix everything. A plan could be a way out. If he promised her freedom and pulled through, if he proved himself worthy of her forgiveness, then he might actually be able to save them both.

He'd need to come up with a foolproof plan. Shouldn't be too difficult, not while he had all the time in the world, waiting for the day when she'd reopen the chamber. Oh, he'd need a good one, something brilliant, something she'd never even dream of. He was pretty good at thinking outside the box, and the lady was definitely cunning enough to carry out the physical side, but would it be enough? He'd need the strongest, most ridiculous plan that the Laboratories would ever know.

Provided that the lady still wanted to escape, he'd have to have something brilliant ready for her by the time she woke her back up. Something so unorthodox it'd be nearly irresistible, if he could manage it.

And, as his CPU hummed quietly alongside the mute Lunatic's steady breath, Wheatley let out a sudden gasp as a crazy, illogical idea floated to the surface of his mind.

It'll be perfect.

~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~

NEARLY THREE YEARS LATER

~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~\\~

Mechanical soles smashed against steel grates, spanning seas of deadly acid and dangerous pits. Rusty bolts and nuts squeaked, churning out a symphony of chaotic and unruly melodies. This was the music of the uninhabited testing facility—an unnatural, unbalanced rhythm which would have made [Test Subject Name Here]'s ears bleed from the sheer pitch.

The two robots would have been grinning, if they had the physical features to do so. Running with surprising speed and agility, they gave each other a quick nod and thumbs up—a signal developed between the two, very useful during long aerial jumps and distances. Sure, it might seem strange that synthetic beings should use such a human method of communication, but they're the cutting edge of artificial intelligence. Inside of the Enrichment Center, it is perceived as normal: robots build robots, a warped sense of repopulation and necessary reproduction, necessary to carry science forward. It was what any and all sentient Aperture technology had ever known, and the general rule of thumb for the Laboratories: the only direction Science goes is onward.

The test's solution was simple in the mind of those who had been made to solve such a calculation. A quick equation of mass versus velocity, addition of angles and pinpoint precision was all it took. Testing was something they were created to do.

They were halfway finished this particular test. Orange, who was a few leagues ahead of Blue, paused, and her orange optic rotated in her elliptical body, scanning the further reaches of the chamber.

A transparent wall separated the two bots—briefly, Blue waved at her through this, from atop a glowing red button. He was motioning for her to continue through a set of doors, triggered by the button to slide open noisily.

She proceeded through the lock, emitting a half-sigh of triumph, for ahead she spotted the solution to the test: a pedestal button, which would drop a weighted storage cube on Blue's side, which he could portal over to her.

Blue was already in position, shooting her an excited glance with his azure optic, flashing her a quick thumbs-up. She slammed her mechanical wrist down onto the button, metal impacting metal with a harsh crack, echoing against each paneled wall.

The cube shot out of the dispenser, through the carefully placed portal system, and was launched through the air, headed straight at her. She caught it easily, jogging ahead while Blue matched her gait opposite the wall, leg pistons squeaking with the effort, optics dancing in joy—and she lunged forwards, smashing it into the button with a hale of sparks and the thunderous sound of the lock disengaging.

A pair of twin doors slid open, and Orange watched her partner enter the chamberlock. She raced him down the narrow hall until the disassembly machines came into sight. With a triumphant screech, he entered his own, and the tube sealed itself around him, just as she crossed the threshold of her own.

There was the space of perhaps one second, one lightning-speed moment, where each bot stood frozen, staring at each other—and a cold Voice echoed through the disassembly chambers.

"Color me disappointed."

Orange blinked, and the next thing she knew, the pneumatic vent overhead was spitting her out with copious amounts of steam. Her steel feet hit the ground hard, the shock absorbers in her legs taking most of the impact, and beside her, Blue materialized from behind a cloud of dust.

"Orange, it seems your lack of motivation is bleeding into Blue's parameters," the Voice said in disappointment. "Because, despite the fact that it has taken us the better part of three years to progress to tests more difficult than the cognitive level of a ten-year-old human, I was beginning to feel that you two could have been the start of a great team."

The Voice paused for half a second, in which neither robot moved. "However, the results are showing otherwise. You were built to solve Science, and yet I am still receiving unsatisfactory data from your test results. It would seem that only human testing fulfills the system requirements."

She cocked her head at Blue inquisitively. He cooed back at her, shrugging as best a robot could, before wordlessly gesturing for her to follow him into the next chamber.

"Maybe this change of scenery will help encourage you two to take testing seriously."

Beside her, Blue was waving his arm through the air, motioning for her to complete the gesture—automatically she raised her iron palm and slammed it onto his own, emitting a high-pitched screech. They both leaped off the end of a high platform, diving down into a wide pit, a brand new test chamber, complete with some of their favorite testing elements: aerial faith plates and edgeless safety cubes.

With an excited shriek, Blue launched himself onto the faith plate. He soared through the air like an oversized bird, swinging his weapon around in a graceful arc. A red portal materialized underneath his leg pistons and he disappeared through the oval, only to reappear seconds later upon a high platform overlooking the chamber.

He hopped on the spot, wielding his portal gun carelessly and waved for Orange to copy him, aiming for a smaller platform opposite him. The burning red glow of a super-colliding-super-button was apparent there, reflected against the shiny, smooth black wall of the testing chamber.

"Evidently not."

The Voice was not pleased, though the two robots could care less. Orange joined her companion, shooting him another signal. They counted down together, with Blue's arm poised atop yet another lever, waiting for the right moment to strike.

"Very well, I have a better idea—bzzt—surprise. Please proceed to the chamberlock where you will collect your—bzzt—surprise."

Blue hit it, hard; immediately a pneumatic diversity vent was activated, and dispensed an edgeless safety cube. Red; yellow. Purple; blue. The sphere soared through the air, through the system of portals to the platform where Orange caught it easily, and rammed it down into the center of the super-button.

"Sssssskrrrrreeeeeerrrrwwww! Arrryyyggghhh!"

Their celebrations were deafening as the chamber doors swept open. They high fived, stumbling over their own feet in excitement and urgency to reach the chamberlock, tripping over each other's large, metal soles.

"This test was so simple, even a human could have solved it admirably. There's no need to celebrate."

The Voice echoed, hopelessly bored and unimpressed, with no small amount of disdain. The chamber doors were slammed shut, before either bot had a chance to cross the threshold. They sagged in disappointment.

"I don't even think you want the surprise."

"Wrrrreeeeeaaatttttt!" Orange had let out a screech of unhappiness, violently trying to simulate the shake of a head. Beside her, Blue jumped up and down and then crouched, steadying his portal gun against his mechanical knee. He took careful aim, and fired a single portal towards a security camera, mounted on a wall back in the central room.

"No, you two most definitely don't want to test with the humans. Why would you want to do that? After all, they are perhaps some of the most dangerous killing machines in existence. They'd make you two look like a pile of useless bolts."

Orange blinked in surprise at the suggestion. Blue became very, very still.

"Of course you wouldn't. Especially not when you could stand to learn some excellent qualities from them—like murder and the concept of mortality. You'd prefer to waste valuable time pretending to be mortal imbeciles. You don't have to pretend, by the way. You are imbeciles."

The two robots looked at each other—perhaps a little more sadly than they usually would have done at the end of a test—their optics connecting just as Orange made a tiny noise of reassurance. Blue outstretched his free hand, and took hers, giving it a little metallic squeeze.

"But I can fix that."

Blue's optic focused back onto the security camera, but he did not let go of his fellow robot's quaking palm. She had never been as brave as he was—the taller of the two, but he was much sturdier, and could withstand greater impact—but she was gentle and humble, her limbs the mechanical version of willow, pliant yet hardy.

"We're running out of time. The longer you idiots spend defying protocol, the more corrupt your programming appears to become. This is-is… something that I did not foresee."

The Voice was heavy; down in the chamber the two robots shook, half from wonder and half from fear. Were they about to be exploded? It wouldn't be the first time—but the Voice had never shown the slightest sign of weakness before.

"Solution," it continued, back to its usual quality. "I've got an assignment for the both of you. I need you to retrieve some restricted files that I'd lost contact with a very, very long time ago. I will need a set of blueprints and some disks before you can unlock the human vault. You do want to test with the humans, don't you?"

It was Orange's turn to leap into the air—yes, she wanted to test with the humans! Only small segments of code and memory had been supplied to each of the robots, glimpses into human traits and history (a virtual amendment performed by the central DOS, specifically to heighten the data results of their testing experience), but both bots knew enough on the subject to feel a tingling sensation as their fight-or-flight responses should have been activated. Curiosity kept the desire to slay the fleshy beings at bay.

"You never know," The Voice laughed. "There might be a human or two capable of teaching you both a lesson in there."

Blue's optic connected with Orange's, still wide in excitement. But he looked down at his own portal gun, and then back up at the chamber—if they were to begin an expedition into the very depths of the Enrichment Center, then who'd take their place in the testing track? What was The Voice going to do?

"I? I am going to continue testing. Your lack of test results reminds me that I do have one excellent test subject in long-term relaxation—she hasn't had a chance to stretch her proportions in exactly two-point-seven-three years. A hiccup in Enrichment Center protocol has allowed for—bzzt—test subject to be—bzzt—missed. She killed me, once upon a time. But I was nice enough to put it behind us, without even exacting revenge. After all, Science isn't about revenge. I think she'll do just fine."

Unsure, the robots nodded.

"Now that that's settled, it's time for you to return to the hub."

The chamber doors were swept back open, and immediately Orange sang out in triumph. She grabbed Blue, before he could take a single step forwards, and pulled him into a great, crushing hug, steel grinding against steel. A few sparks were spat down onto the ground.

"Evidently, the practice of placing artificial intelligent constructs in near-android forms, with parameters set to deal with human-like activities was a mistake. It is causing the development of human-like traits to form in said idiotic, immortal constructs."

Both robots just looked confused.

"Morons. Layman's terms: Long-term side-effects of the co-operative testing initiative are the robotic equivalents of mental delusions, such as perceiving sentient, artificial beings as humans.You are not."

The Voice didn't sound impressed. With a tremble, Orange released her death-grip on Blue's outer casing.

"I will deal with your corruption later. For now—let the Science begin."

Before either of them could do so much as blink, without so much as a warning, both robots exploded into a million mechanical fragments. Two wisps of quickly-fading dust and smoke were all that was left, and once the sound of the explosion had faded, a cold, manic laughter could be heard, reverberating heartlessly around the dismantling testing chamber.

Two long, lonely and dark Enrichment Center miles below, a tousle-haired woman emerged from under layers of sleepy, undisturbed dust. A dimmed, blue optic bobbed above her head, voicing a series of long-winded escape plans and other propositions, fully believed to never, ever reach their intended target.

Cryochamber 34935-94 has been activated.