-=Chapter Twenty: Deduction=-
White Forest, 8:21 AM
"We have been able to get telecommunications with the rest of Southeastern Europe," Dr. Magnusson announced to the gathering of Resistance leaders sitting in his office. "We have already contacted Resistance branches in Croatia and Macedonia and inquired of their situation." He tapped the computer monitors on the wall with a long rod, "the Croatian base outside of Zagreb reports they have found operational MiG-21 fighter jets at the old 91st Air Force Base. They have been using them ever since the Uprising began. The Resistance in Macedonia has reported an infestation of Xen aliens in the Sar Mountain area that has been causing the city of Tetovo major problems."
He straightened up in his seat as the screen behind him changed, depicting images of dead Combine soldiers with ALAI nesting on their heads. "The Gman has also reported that he has defeated a unit of ALAI soldiers and is approaching the remains of the Borealis. He hopes to find something in the ruins as the ship has not completely burnt out."
"So what're we doing?" Barney asked casually, resting on the old red couch in the office.
Dr. Magnusson huffed, irritated by Barney's attitude. "We will decide on a course of action once the Gman has given his full report."
Barney frowned, raising his hands. "So what are we doing here then?"
Magnusson frowned. Barney was truly an annoyance. "Your insolence, Mr. Calhoun, is unappreciated." His frown let up slightly as the topic changed, "However, at the moment we will be finding any remaining Combine units in Romania and prevent them regrouping to attack. We will call a briefing in an hour's time, from which we will send out recon teams to search the country around the base." Dr. Magnusson looked up at Dr. Kleiner. "Have you gotten word from Serbia yet?"
"N-not yet, Magnusson." Dr. Kleiner replied, adjusting his glasses. "They may not have had time to do so yet."
Dr. Magnusson huffed again, as if to blame Dr. Kleiner for something out of his hands. "Right. Well, you are dismissed."
Gordon stood up, cocking his head at Dr. Magnusson. Sure, he was a good leader, but Gordon didn't exactly approve of his controlling attitude. "We're not your subordinates, you know." He reminded Magnusson as he left with the others.
—
"Hey," Alyx looked over at Gordon, who was sipping his instant coffee with a hint of sadness in his bespectacled eyes, "what's wrong?"
The two were sitting at a small round metal table in the staff room, drinking coffee. The room was almost empty, aside from two people playing cards in the corner of the room.
"Hmm?" Gordon glanced over at her, apparently having drifted off in thought. "Oh, it's nothing."
Alyx smiled lightly. "Come on, tell me. Please?"
Gordon sighed, lowering his steaming polystyrene cup gently. "I just..." he shook his head. "I dunno, I just keep thinking... about everything. What's so special about me?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, sure, I defend the people I love, I kill the ones I hate, and I avenge people." Gordon shook his head again. "But why? How am I any different from anyone else?"
Alyx frowned slightly. "I'm still not sure what you mean."
"How can I defend people as well as I do? More importantly, how can I kill as well as I do?" Gordon swallowed, before taking another sip of his coffee. "I... I'm such a monster..."
He lowered his cup, rubbing his forehead firmly.
"Gordon..." Alyx pulled her chair closer to him, putting an arm around him. "The Combine is the monster."
Gordon looked up at her, exhaling loudly. "But... back at Black Mesa... I killed all those people. Those soldiers..."
"Were they trying to kill you?"
"Y-yes, but..." he swallowed. "You know what I keep telling myself?"
"What?"
"That as long as someone's trying to kill me, I can kill them without guilt." Gordon looked down into his cup, his hands shaking. "What a load of bullshit."
Alyx sat silently next to Gordon, realising the other two rebels had gone quiet as well. No doubt they were watching Gordon in shock. Gordon Freeman crying? The thought itself was insanity!
"Gordon..." she finally managed, getting him to look her in the eyes. "A monster wouldn't be thinking about these things."
"What do you mean?"
"Do you like killing?"
"N-no, I hate it. Well," he paused, "I like what comes about because I kill."
He paused again. "Hang on..."
Alyx smiled. His eyes were lighting up again.
"I like what comes about because I kill... when I kill, I defend others, I destroy my enemies... and I might be avenging someone."
He looked at Alyx, his expression having already entered super-scientist-thinking mode. "But why do I kill?"
Alyx smiled wider. This was the Gordon she knew. "Gordon... everyone here has killed someone for the same reasons you do."
Gordon stopped, thinking about her statement. "But then... I'm not any different."
Alyx rolled her eyes. Yep, it was the Gordon she knew alright. "Gordon, you're an amazing person. Look at all the things you've done!"
"Yes, but everyone else wants to do th—" he stopped himself, realising what that meant. "Everyone wants to do these things." He stood up suddenly, eyes wide and glowing like stars. He'd figured it all out! "It's in their nature. It's in my nature." He looked at Alyx — who had also stood up — as he grinned excitedly. "We fight because of our nature. We fight because we are human beings."
Defending those I love...
Destroying those I hate...
Avenging those I was too late to save...
Defence, Destruction, Vengeance.
Survival.
These are all human nature.
And rapid response reflexes just help me out a bit.
This is the point of origin. This is the reason behind my achievements.
Because I'm human.
Gordon suddenly grabbed Alyx, hugging her tightly. He sighed, his mind finally at peace. "Thank you."
"Uh..." Alyx returned the hug, not entirely sure what was going on but not really caring nonetheless. What mattered was that she'd cheered Gordon up. "You're welcome."
Underground Combine Base, 8:56 AM
Records of the Borealis... The Gman thought tensely. That's what I need.
He was standing inside the underground Combine base, amidst smouldering subterranean buildings complete with bloody streaks across the cold metal floor. However, the chances of any such records surviving the destruction of the Borealis are minimal.
He walked through the rubble, the faint smell of smoke and the slightly more potent smell of blood. The ALAI had certainly torn this place to shreds.
Not just the ALAI, he thought with a humourless smile, Corporal Shephard also partook in dealing a heavy blow to this base.
The silence was everpresent, possibly intensifying the smell of smoke and blood. The only noise the Gman could hear was his own soft footsteps on the cold metal. He sniffed, inhaling freezing air and the sickening stench of rotting flesh. He coughed, wiping his mouth distastefully. Bad choice.
He caught a glimpse of something orange out of the corner of his eye, before it went around a corner not long after. He didn't know what it was and honestly didn't care. It wasn't as if it would pose a threat to him, should he come across it again.
When he reached the destroyed Combine gate — complete with redecorated crimson walls and grey matter chunks — he attempted to sidestep the gore and exit through a conveniently positioned hole in the gate that appeared to have been caused by something sharp, or so the deep scratches told him. There were also deep bullet indents in the gate, something he was certain had been thanks to the Resistance helicopters.
A frigid gust welcomed him to the crevasse as he stepped out of the Combine base and onto the bridge. Surprisingly, it was still intact and in an adequate condition. Wind howled across the steep walls of ice on all sides, even over the charred remains of the Borealis.
There was a large hole in the side of the Borealis, around the engine room area. There was a faint orange glow pulsating from within that the Gman assumed was a collection of determined flames feasting on some sort of fuel. The hole was perfectly lined up with the bridge so the Gman guessed the Combine had been responsible.
He walked out onto the main part of the bridge, the wind increasing in intensity, ruffling his suit and his short cropped hair. Casually, he brushed off his lapels and continued. The sound of rotor blades caught his attention and he gazed skywards as a Hunter Chopper flew directly overhead.
Was it possible that orange clad being had stolen a helicopter?
The Gman decided to make a mental note of this: Someone other than a Combine soldier was seen momentarily, moving through the base. Not long after, I spotted a Hunter-Chopper flying east. Are these two connected?
Continuing his trek, he walked through the reasonably sized hole in the hull of the burned out ship. He was interested to find that the floor was wet, despite the fact that there were still some small flames content to burn in quiet solitude. He squinted through the dim light, noticing half of the ship was cut off by a wall of ice that was slowly being melted by the fires.
Of course, the Gman reminded himself internally, the ship is embedded in ice.
That meant it had somehow been teleported into the wall and the ice hadn't compensated to this fact by moving.
That doesn't clear anything up, the Gman thought, feeling slightly annoyed. I already knew that.
He looked around. Doubtless there was no power anywhere, thanks to the rebel's attack on the ship. Even an auxiliary battery would require the ship's AI to activate it, and the Gman was pretty sure the AI was as dead as the crew. He clapped his hands twice and the power returned in a flash, the sudden illumination of the room and the whirring of various machines signifying that.
Then something exploded above him. The Gman snapped his head up in surprise to look at the ceiling, realising that the sudden return of power had obviously given something up there a new source of fuel for it to burn. He shrugged, walking over to a nearby staircase.
The ground was littered with empty 5.56mm bullet cases that the Gman guessed was from the same Combine unit that made the hole in the hull. There was also a single body lying on the ground, dry blood surrounding a bullet wound in its head. There were also four identical marks on the back of the corpse's head.
ALAI, the Gman thought, apparently cannot take control of hosts with damage to their brain. This soldier took a bullet to the head, and therefore his brain was unable to be used.
He paused, before chuckling to himself. Ah, I remember. Mr. Shephard was responsible for this.
The Gman headed for the stairway to the left of the dead body, down a narrow corridor now lit by flickering halogen light. He stopped at the staircase, carefully ascending the stairs that had been partially cut off by a wall of ice.
As he reached the top, he found himself in a small room leading into a hallway lined with doors.
"And bel... —ve..."
The Gman looked up at the crackling speakers on the roof curiously.
"—m st... —ive..."
He frowned. Apparently the AI was still operating. To a degree, of course, as it seemed to be malfunctioning. He kept going, the lights buzzing electrically as the lights flickered on and off.
"—oing sci... —nd I'm... —ill al..."
The Gman opened the closest door, finding a small room complete with bed and desk. It appeared to be someone's quarters. Someone who was probably dead, something the Gman attributed to the bloody streak on the wall and the chunk of cheekbone lying on the desk.
He turned on the light, spotting a mutilated corpse on the ground. There was a sheet of paper with a bloody handprint on the ground that appeared to have fallen off the desk.
Ignoring the stench of death and old blood, the Gman grabbed the sheet of paper casually, a small part tearing off the corner as it was caked in dry blood. He held it up to the light, cocking an eyebrow at the handwritten words. It was scrawled, assumedly with desperation and frantic haste. Blood had obscured some of the text.
...aDOS has gone crazy. The whol... ip has telep... o some so... t of polar re... ion and s... 's making anno... ements on the P... ying that Bl... esa has sen... orld to hel...
...he clai... that so... ne appeare... ther... not long ago, wit... Xe... ystal he ga... llace Bree... nd now... veryone is do...ed.
...ell is a... erture Sci...ce wi... Harr... Glidewell. I... ure GLa... oralit... re is defec... ve. Mu... et out of h... live and h... im.
Sh... yone fi... his, I b... ou, go to Ap...re ... cience. GL... OS has artif... al intelli... nce unri...led by an... ing else. I fe... he has be... me a malevole... orror. Y... ust stop he...
The rest was on the blood covered fragment on the ground. The Gman folded up the paper, dried blood crunching as he did so, and slipped it into his suit pocket.
The message had been verging on illegible, but the Gman had gotten most of it.
The AI on the ship, GLaDOS, had evidently gone crazy and teleported the Borealis to North Sweden. How she did this was unexplained, but the deceased writer was now post-mortally requesting anyone who find his message go to Aperture Science to find a way to stop her.
Of course, there was also that matter of the orange clad person... had they come from this ship?
"—ead I wi... — e sti... live..."
The Gman decided there was probably a connection between the two. If that person had been here for as long as the ship had been, then there was a solution to the problem of who built the ALAI.
He needed answers. And he was going to get them at Aperture Science.
After all...
"Sti... —al...e, st... —ive..."
...the AI was apparently still alive.
Alright, the quick updates are OVER, people. For long time readers, no more of this same chapter stuff. Now you will be graced with fresh chapters, and the plot will continue its hike to the climax of the story.
I have everything planned. I just haven't written it yet.
So it's out with the old and in with the new from here on out. From now on, I am writing NEW things instead of things already seen.
To new readers who've only read this version, ignore everything I said. But anyway, the Gman. Ah, the Gman. Forget 'sinister intergalactic bureaucrat', the Gman is a 'poetic warrior businessman'. At least, that's what I try to make him. He's got a soft side, but he kicks ass when he has to, and he does it with a dignified demeanour. It's like if the Queen got a Kalashnikov and went crazy on her enemies, before coming back home to the UK to drink tea and do things the royal family do.
OK, it's nothing like that. But you get the idea. My Gman is unique, and I hope everyone likes him for it.