Wheatley's Story: Part A
Chapter Four
The 19th of April 1989 was the one-year anniversary of Mr. Johnson's death. A memorial service was held that day, and I was chosen to deliver the eulogy. I can say with certainty that it was definitely a trying time for me to stand on the podium in front of so many people and giving a speech to them.
When the service was over, Doug and I were the first ones to leave. I followed him to his office before leaving to continue working on the Borealis.
"So, Doug, any news about the big project?"
"Well, Caroline's still missing, so the only thing to do is check to see that everything's still in working order."
"It does seem bothersome that you and I are the only people here that have any objections to Caroline being uploaded into the Central Core mainframe."
"Yeah. I seem to be the only one that knows that the Central Core will cause mental instability with anyone uploaded to it."
"What I don't understand is why they can't wait for someone to volunteer to be uploaded into the Central Core."
"Nobody would; they think that the Central Core will be controlled every step of the way by the rest of the scientists. But I know that it will turn out the other way around."
"I can see how that could play out."
"You seem to be the only one that can; everyone else either thinks I've watched too many sci-fi movies and/or thinks it's because of my schizophrenia."
"Well, I'm sure we can do something before - WHOA!"
I suddenly found myself on the floor outside Doug's office. I hardly had any time to pick myself up before a siren sounded.
Only once I was on my feet did I realize that the siren was actually the cry of an infant wrapped in a green blanket lying on the floor.
Doug picked her up and tried to calm her down as scientists appeared in the hall, attracted by the wails of the baby girl.
"What's going on here?" Voices had to be raised to be heard above the screaming.
Doug was busy trying to put a stop to said screaming, and that left me to answer. "I'm sure it's not too difficult to figure it out."
The screams were starting to die down, and a scientist examined the child in Doug's arms. "Where did she come from?"
"I don't know; we only found her when I tripped over her."
No one spoke until the infant stopped crying.
"Well, I'm going to go to the lab to try to figure out where she came from." Doug started down a hallway.
I returned my crispy eyes to the small group. "We should probably get back to work now, shouldn't we?"
"Yeah. We still haven't disassembled that prototype chassis yet, so we should get started on that soon."
"Have you taken to evaluating everyone that would be fit to assume responsibility of operating this place from a robotic supercomputer?"
"We've told you numerous times, Pendleton; the only person fit to do that is Caroline, and she's doing it whether she wants to or not."
"Surely, you could wait for someone to volunteer for the position (Caroline or someone else) before having her put into the mainframe."
"Are you going to volunteer for it?"
"Certainly not."
"We've asked everyone, and they said the same thing. And unless someone says they'll take up the task, we have to abide by Mr. Johnson's wishes."
"He's dead, for crying out loud; he can't do anything to make this happen. He can't make you do what he wants anymore."
"Would you want us to carry out your dying wishes after you die?"
I knew where this was going. "Look, just because I'm not the sturdiest spanner in the toolbox doesn't mean my behaviour is on par with Mr. Johnson's. In fact, I dare say that Caroline, Doug, and I are the top Aperture affiliates in terms of common sense."
There was no response from anyone else.
"Now, if you'll excuse me," I started down a hallway, "I have work to do."