Thank you to 19James92, Vi-Violence and EggplantWitch for your wonderful reviews of Chapter 1! You've made a newbie writer very happy indeed :)
The sky over the miles of swaying wheat was overcast with grey clouds, smothering the afternoon sun in a cold, damp blanket. Chell picked her way along the rock-strewn road, a heavy canvas rucksack weighing down her back that clinked with each footstep. She stepped around potholes and over loose stones and gravel, careful of her footing in her Long Fall boots. The soft metallic ting produced by each step in the boots took her mind back to Aperture: she had not worn the life-saving testing equipment since her departure from the lab. By forcing her feet into a feline tiptoe poise the boots not only protected her from injury after a long drop, but also had a newly-discovered bonus of safeguarding her feet from blisters and aching muscles. She had been hiking along this track for hours and yet Chell felt as if she had the stamina to walk all day.
She held in one hand a map that had been copied meticulously by the Dean from an old atlas of the area. Holding the map carefully to stop its frantic fluttering in the breeze she glanced at it occasionally to confirm the correct path to the laboratory. Although the atlas had not shown the location of Aperture Science itself, it had charted a suspiciously major road leading directly into the middle of the wheat field. This road did not appear on a more modern local map and was speculated by the Dean to be a derelict service road that had once been used to transport supplies into the underground laboratory. Together with Chell's own approximation of the distance to Aperture from her initial journey across the wheat field, this road was their strongest clue as to the location of the laboratory.
As the dull late afternoon faded into early evening Chell spotted a large sign perched at the side of the road. It declared in huge red and black lettering:
Biohazard Warning – You are approaching a CONDEMNED LABORATORY. Extreme danger of DEATH or serious INJURY / SICKNESS resulting from one or more of the following hazards:
Asbestos, radioactive isotopes, chemical waste, live explosives, military grade firearms, unidentified hazardous compounds, unidentified hazardous animals, drowning.
Do not approach. Do not enter. Do not ignore this warning.
There's no place like home, commented a grim voice in Chell's head. She continued her trek to Aperture Science with renewed vigour.
A few hours further along the derelict route the wheat became scarce and was replaced by tall pine trees. The rough earthen track that Chell had been following turned to ruined tarmac and the road widened into two lanes, then later four. The abandoned highway led into a vast clearing in the trees which encircled a wide dark chasm. On closer inspection, the immense crater was revealed to be the entrance to an underground tunnel and the highway descended into its gaping mouth. In the dim twilight she could just make out the shape of a sign to the side of the entranceway. She withdrew a flashlight from her heavy rucksack and used its dim beam of light to read its message.
Aperture Science welcomes you to the Aperture Science Service Entrance. All deliveries must report to the Service Desk. All other visitors must report to the Main Reception at the Aperture Science Main Entrance, located 23 miles southeast.
The Dean's hunch had been right. As she shone her flashlight into the pit Chell watched the road stretch off into the darkness. She then descended into the pit, flashlight in hand, and continued downwards until the darkness completely surrounded the thin yellow beam of torchlight. The sloping cavern was enormous - wide enough to accommodate as many as eight trucks driving abreast if such a convoy was ever deemed necessary. As the road began to level out the light of her torch caught a glint from a reflective surface: glass from the windows of a small office booth that protruded across the first of the eight lanes. On the wall of the booth Chell caught sight of a cheery poster which eagerly advised her to sign in with the attendant before proceeding to the Warehouses - this must be the Service Desk that the earlier sign had wanted her to visit.
The remaining lanes of the highway were blocked by an immense metal shutter stretching from floor to ceiling. On seeing the obstacle across her path Chell cast the beam of the flashlight around the edges of the shutter searching for a way through. After struggling to find any weaknesses or signs of a lock she rolled her eyes in frustration – the shutter wouldn't have been an issue at all if she still had her Aperture Science Handheld Portal Device! She could see a patch of wall on the other side of the barrier where she could have easily placed a portal, and with a second portal placed on the wall beside her she would have been able to simply walk from one side of the barrier to the other. Since she had lost her portal gun during her battle against Wheatley she was forced to search for a more conventional method of breaking in. Turning her attention back to the Service Desk she observed that the walls of the booth flanked both sides of the barrier, and that both walls had glass windows half-heartedly protected with wooden planks. Giving a small nod of decision, Chell shrugged off the rucksack from her back and began sifting through its contents. She lifted out a sturdy grappling hook gun from the rucksack and dropped it on the ground beside her, a loud clang echoing along the walls of the vast tunnel. She then pulled out a steel crowbar coated in the remains of chipped orange paint and let it clatter to the ground beside the grappling gun. The Dean had really come through for her in the procurement of her equipment; she could only hope that they proved to be an adequate substitute for her portal gun.
After returning the grappling hook to the rucksack, she hoisted the bag onto her back and raised the crowbar like a champion baseball player. Chell then strode up to the window and wrenched the wooden planks off the glass before crashing the butt of her weapon into its vulnerable centre, shards of glass bursting out and shattering over the rough concrete floor. She knocked out the remaining fragments of the window and vaulted into the office, glass crunching under her Long Fall boots. After repeating her act of vandalism on the inner window she climbed through and found herself standing on the other side of the barrier, the road stretching on distantly into the darkness. One side of her mouth twitched up into a satisfied half-smirk. She was in.
A little further along the road Chell spotted a dim light in the distance. As she approached she realised she could now see without the use of her flashlight and returned it with the crowbar into her bag. Ahead the tunnel widened into a vast cavern stretching upwards and out for miles into an underground cathedral. The walls were dotted with floodlights which filled the room with a harsh bright light, illuminating the interior of the cavern to reveal row upon row of huge storage buildings. The cavern wall was painted with the label "Warehouse 01" in cracked yellow paint – was this a warehouse filled with… warehouses? As Chell walked along the narrow alleyways separating the structures, their walls towering high above her head, she read the descriptions of the contents of each building. Metal components. Metal instruments. Glassware. Polymers. Chemical reagents. Foodstuffs. Propane canisters. Liquid Nitrogen canisters. Crickets. Moon rocks. All the raw materials required for the day to day running of the laboratory, each stored in huge dedicated buildings miles underground. In its heyday this cavern must have fed and nourished the entire facility like a blood supply.
On emerging from the streets of warehouses and reaching the far end of the cavern Chell encountered a fork in the path. An arrow pointed left for Warehouses 02-14; right for Warehouses 15-30; and straight ahead for the Test Shafts and Administrative Offices. After reading her options she decided that the offices were the most likely place to find clues to Wheatley's fate; perhaps she could find employee records or other paperwork documenting the period he worked here. She marched forward into the smaller passageway, metallic footsteps softly echoing along the corridor, where she saw ahead a new sign: elevator shaft to Test Shafts and Administrative Offices. As Chell approached to inspect more closely she found the sign was correct on one point – there was indeed a shaft. However, there was no elevator to accompany the shaft, and the button optimistically inscribed with an "up" arrow proved to be useless. For the second time in an hour, Chell mourned the loss of her portal gun as she glared at an appealing wall surface taunting her from the top of the shaft. She knew all too well that this gnawing feeling of loss would become a common occurrence as she attempted to find her way through the facility without the gun's help.
Never one to feel sorry for herself if she could help it, Chell dropped her rucksack to the floor and withdrew her new grappling hook gun. She held it in the same manner as she once held her portal gun, and hesitatingly inspected the strange device trying to figure out its mechanism. It was roughly the same size as the portal gun, though a little larger and a little heavier with a spiked metal hook at its front resembling a thin three-legged spider. The gun had been borrowed from an adventurous friend of the Dean – she hadn't had a chance to practice firing it yet and she hoped she would be able to figure it out without killing or injuring herself in the process. Taking a deep breath, she pointed the grappling gun at the wall of the shaft far above her head and pulled the trigger. The recoil hit her as if she'd been punched. She almost dropped the gun as the hook shot out, launching for the ceiling with its chain trailing and jangling before thrusting into the wall a good two meters off her aim. The chain suddenly snapped tight, almost tugging her off her feet. She clung with both hands to the gun's handles and dragged her feet into the ground with the metal supports of her Long Fall boots scraping the stone. Steadying herself, she tugged on the gun to make sure the chain was securely embedded in the wall and tried to decide what she should do next.
There was another trigger on the gun's second handle. She experimentally tapped it. The gun bucked and pulled up – the chain was tightening. Unfortunately, the mechanism turned out to be too weak to lift both her and the gun; Chell's imagination conjured GLaDOS' voice into her head with a scathing comment on her weight. Shaking off her own insult, she realised she could instead use the second trigger to retract the chain after using it to climb to the top of the shaft. With this plan in mind she attempted to climb the chain – she jumped and clung to it with both legs. This approach proved to be unwise as she immediately began swinging rapidly towards the concrete wall opposite. With alarm frozen on her face she thrust out one leg boot-first and caught herself just in time – the support of the Long Fall boot cushioned her impact with the wall surface. She exhaled a heavy breath and swung her body around so that both boots rested against the wall, hands clinging to the chain and supporting her full weight. She raised one hand and began to climb, her legs walking up the side of the elevator shaft, hand over hand, arm muscles burning, palms hurting through her light gloves – and she still had a long way to go. She missed the portal gun terribly. She felt like a crippled bird hobbling along the ground after losing the use of its wings. At last she reached the top, every muscle on fire as she hauled herself over the edge panting for breath. She'd better be on the right floor.
As she caught her breath and rubbed her aching palms she remembered the gun swaying at the bottom of the shaft and reached over to yank the hook out of the wall. She wedged the end of the chain under one foot and hoisted the gun up the shaft, hands still sore from their previous exertion. She grabbed the gun as soon as it became within reach, freed the chain from under her foot and retracted it using the second trigger. The chain was sucked up into the gun barrel out of sight, followed by the hook rattling and slamming into place at the head of the gun. She returned the gun to her rucksack hoping she would never need it again but, on remembering her previous visit to the old underground facility, grudgingly knew that she probably would.
***
Chell glared furiously at the crumbled stairs. This was now the third ruined flight of stairs she'd encountered, not to mention the number of broken elevators and catwalks she'd had to overcome. Her hands were covered in blisters, ruptured and seeping into her gloves, and the old injury in her wrist was stiff and sore. Every muscle in her arms and legs burned like hell. She had not appreciated how badly dilapidated the old Aperture laboratory really was - on her previous visit she had been able to simply fly over chasms left by broken catwalks, launch herself up inaccessible shafts and glide through broken doors like a ghost walking through walls. No obstacle had been enough to stop her; she had the power to go where she pleased. Now every bump on the road felt like a mountain to traverse. She had lost her strength, her abilities, and was reduced to a mere mortal, weak and powerless. With resentment plain on her face she once again raised the heavy grappling hook gun and fired across the fractured stairwell.
***
She kicked the wooden door open with the heel of her Long Fall boot and took a step through, her breath rough and ragged in her throat. The cheap wood had splintered in a shower of dust and through the broken doorway Chell finally caught sight of her destination – the Administrative Offices. She sighed quietly with relief and trudged down the corridor, trailing and scraping the grappling gun from one uncaring hand. She was not entirely sure what she was looking for – an office of some description which documented the names of the facility staff. Infuriatingly, only a minority of the offices still had legible signs. She passed an office for Procurement followed by another ten that were unlabelled. She saw another office around the corner for the Legal Department, one further down for Accounting… Did Human Resources deal with staff or test subjects? Based on what she knew of Aperture she presumed the latter and continued on. Staff records, staff database, anything with staff in the name… Or employees… There, that looked promising! Employee Security and Wellbeing System - Control Room. Chell could only guess what exactly a Security and Wellbeing System was or why it merited an entire room to control it, but it was related to the employees and that was good enough for now. She still had an entire office block to search for more clues.
On trying the door she found it was tightly locked with a sturdy keypad. Of course it was, she grumbled internally. She briefly attempted to guess the code, but on finding that both "0000" and "1234" were incorrect she gave up in tired exasperation - why did this have to be the one thing in Old Aperture that wasn't broken? Changing approach, she raised the butt of her hated grappling gun above her head and smashed it down onto the keypad, again and again, until the small box of numbers capitulated and snapped off the door, hanging by loose wires. She turned the handle, panting for breath. The door was still locked. For the first time in months a sound escaped Chell's silent lips, a noise that vaguely resembled the growl of a bear: hoarse and exhausted and angry. She would not admit defeat, not when she was so close, not when she could finally obtain closure and put everything that had happened behind her! She wrenched the crowbar from her bag and slammed it into the space recently vacated by the keypad, as if she was hoping to physically rip out the programming that was stubbornly blocking her path. It quickly became apparent this strategy was not achieving anything other than stress relief and she soon stopped. She had to keep her cool. Keep calm. She hadn't solved hundreds of deadly Aperture tests by getting annoyed with them. No, she should stay calm and think. The door was made from thick steel, as was the frame. She couldn't smash her way through, but perhaps she could carefully prise the door open by using the crowbar? She tried it, wedging the thin metal edge between the door and its frame, rocking it back and forth. Suddenly she heard a sharp crack – it-it couldn't be, did the lock just break? As she turned the handle the lock now felt loose; there was definitely something rattling inside it. She flashed a grin at her luck and, once again, she raised her crowbar and smashed it into the door – it burst open this time, swinging back on its hinges so violently it slammed into the wall inside the office. Chell sauntered into the control room with the crowbar over one shoulder, stepping over the remains of the broken lock with a lopsided smirk.
As her eyes adjusted to the gloom she saw in front of her an enormous control panel occupying almost an entire wall of the dark office. The control panel consisted of a large glass monitor screen above a keyboard covered in letters and a black circular dial. Below the keyboard was a row of buttons labelled "rewind", "play/pause" and "fast forward". On approaching the control panel Chell saw the system was off and the monitor blank. She looked around her for a solution – and quickly saw one on the wall beside her: "Aperture Science Electrical Power Switch for Aperture Science Employee Security and Wellbeing System". As she pulled the lever Chell could only hope that the system was still functional after so many years. Fortunately, the small red light on the breaker switched to a bright green and the fluorescent strip lights above her hummed and flickered into life. Chell watched as the monitor screen slowly brightened, like an elderly man waking from a long nap. She waited expectantly as the system booted up, words and letters boldly flashing across the screen as her nerves churned in her stomach. Would this system really give her the answers about Wheatley that she craved? The screen flashed to pure bright white and an early Aperture Science logo rose into view resembling an orange setting sun. Suddenly a voice boomed out of the system causing Chell to jump in panic.
"Cave Johnson here, welcoming you to the Aperture Science Employee Security and Wellbeing System! So, what is this system I hear you asking? If you weren't asking that and you've been sitting on that chair using the system for months, then why don't you just go ahead and press the "enter" button on the keyboard, that'll skip this little introduction. Alright, you've done that? Good. Now then, new security employee, what is the system for? Well, I'm glad you asked - I like that in a new recruit! This system here is designed to ensure the security and wellbeing of every one of Aperture's products and patents by tracking the activities of our employees. We've had too damn many products getting stolen or copied by our rivals – talkin' about you Black Mesa… We must have someone on the inside, some filthy rat among us going through our intellectual property and passing it on to the highest bidder, damn Black Mesa spies! That where you come in, son, you're here to keep an eye on everyone and catch them in the act! Now, you may or may not remember that we inserted a little chip into your spine on your first day here at Aperture. That is your identity chip. Try not to lose it. We used to have identity cards but the damn cowards kept taking them off! Chips into the spine, much safer! Now, this system has hundreds of state-of-the-art cameras dotted all over the facility. It's their job to scan for every employee's identity chip and track their location in real time. As our man in the sky you're able to watch the feed from each camera individually - just type the camera's name or number on that keyboard in front of you and up it pops! Or, if you've got your eye on somebody in particular you can type in his name instead. Your screen will jump automatically to whatever camera the dirty rat's standing in front of and watch him as he moves around the labs, jumping from camera to camera as he goes. Can't hide from Cave Johnson, no sir! There's an archive feature too, so if you suspect that he's been up to no good for a long time then you'll be able to go back and watch all the recorded footage we have of him. The recordings go back as far as 1971, a good few years now, so there'll be plenty of evidence if we ever need it in a prosecution. Now then, you got all that? Good, I like a fast learner. Now get to work and catch me some thieving rats! Cave Johnson out, we're done here."
Chell stared at the screen in shock as Cave's booming voice vanished back into the silence. This computer could show her recorded footage of any Old Aperture employee, including Wheatley? For the entire period that he worked here? This was far better than she had expected; she had only hoped for a name printed on a dusty file or perhaps a grainy photograph if she was lucky. But a video showing everything, this was beyond her wildest expectations. She would be able to see his first day of work, just after he left the Dean in Maple Hill. She would learn how he lived day-to-day; see his friends, acquaintances and colleagues. She would be able to get a feel for his personality and watch it change over the years, watch it darken and twist into the personality she knew and still encountered in her nightmares. She would finally learn the connection that this man had with the robot she hated - were they really the same person? If they were…she would be able to see what he looked like. When he was young and human; made from flesh and blood and not cold metal. Unfamiliar excitement and curiosity bubbled inside her and she turned to the options presented to her on the screen.
-Enter camera name/number
-Enter employee name/number
-Browse cameras A-Z
-Browse employees A-Z
Experimentally, Chell tapped the "down" arrow on the keyboard and highlighted each of the options by scrolling down. Setting the cursor to "Enter employee name/number" she then tapped "enter": the only key she had heard Cave Johnson mention. The next screen politely requested the employee name she was searching for. Chell slowly typed the name she had obsessed over for months.
WHEATLEY
The system pondered for a few seconds before suggesting:
Wheatley, Stephen
Junior Accountant 1974-1982
Senior Accountant 1982-1983
Financial Advisor 1983-1986
Wheatley had been promoted to Financial Advisor? That sounded like an important position. The kind of job that required a high level of intelligence and responsibility: two traits she did not associate with the idiot sphere she had known. She hit "enter" a second time.
Employee identity chip not detected. Live tracking unavailable - please select a date from which to begin archive playback.
The screen now displayed a long thin bar labelled with "September 1974" on the far left and "January 1986" at the opposite end. By rotating the black circular dial Chell watched as the cursor on the bar flicked rapidly through days, months and years. She rotated the cursor to the far left, to 1974, and hit play.
