Chapter 11: Equal and Opposite
Newton's Third Law of Motion states that for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction.
GLaDOS dropped Chell's hand.
The elevator lurched as it shot upward, a mechanical hum filling the air as the facility worked effortlessly to bring them to their destination.
Chell yanked her hand to her side and the burning sensation began to subside. When the feeling refused to go away entirely, she brought the hand up to chest level. She pressed a thumb into her palm, beginning to rub from the heel towards the base of her fingers. She found the repetitive and rhythmic pressure calming. Eventually, she switched to running her thumb along the heart lines, her fingertip tracing the natural curves of her palm.
The same sensation simmered in a circle around her bicep, crackling like a sunburn. Chell pressed her eyes closed and willed the feeling to stop. There was nothing physically wrong with her arm or with her hand. Knowing this did not make the discomfort fade any faster. She knew it wouldn't—not as long as she sat here ruminating over the robot's initial grip on her arm. It had been this way her entire life—or at least, as long as she could remember. Any unexpected or undesired touch resulted in uncomfortable sensations that lingered long after the physical contact itself.
Her mind drifted to their explosively quiet march to the elevator and the pressure of the android's hand curled around her own. To her surprise, it had been firm but light. Not crushing. Part of her felt like she could have pulled away if she wanted to, but the other part of her knew that would've just ensured a crushed hand.
The feel of the android's hand lingered in her mind. Though the texture was wrong and the surface temperature too lukewarm for it to pass as human, Chell thought that it...hadn't felt terrible. The hand didn't suffocate her own like the average human's sweltering grip. There had been something almost grounding about feeling her body heat gradually warm the artificial hand like a slab of stone in the sun.
Chell took another look at her palm and spread her fingers, noting how calluses marred her upper palm. When she flipped it over she spotted fading scars that crisscrossed her skin. Life on the surface was grueling. The apocalypse had wiped out many of the affordances of modern life that Chell had taken for granted. Any work worth doing now had to be done by hand. It was slow and taxing but still necessary—at least if she wanted to survive. That was a harder motivation to find on some days than others.
She thought back to the terrifying Civil Protection force and how efficiently and callously she would have been dispatched if she had actively resisted a soldier. Even down here it hadn't been her brightest idea. But she had reacted on instinct, pulling away to maintain distance and avoid an unpleasant feeling.
In hindsight, she could understand how her motion could be misconstrued as defiance. It was certainly a hallmark of her character and it could have easily escalated the encounter. But it hadn't. She was still in one piece. Chell felt the tension in her shoulders lift slightly, but dread still lined her stomach.
She knew she should be thankful—and she was (in theory)—but all she felt was a pulsing frustration. GLaDOS knew Chell had misinterpreted the automatic door, and GLaDOS knew Chell had only reacted the way she did out of panic. The robot's abrupt change in attitude was proof she had figured this out, even if it had taken a few minutes.
Chell's right hand curled into a fist until she willed herself to relax. This had just been a misunderstanding. That's all. Though she had not harbored any ill intent, GLaDOS's treatment of her exuded nothing but distrust. The way she had been dragged to the elevator—as if at any moment she might make a break for it—
Her brow furrowed. This was, what, her third episode already of panic-fueled action? Though each one had its own justification, perhaps GLaDOS couldn't see that. Maybe all she saw was the rebellion. Maybe GLaDOS was just having a hard time trusting a documented flight risk.
She glanced over at GLaDOS, who stood with her feet shoulder-width apart. When she turned away, she braced for a snappy comment but nothing came out. It was then that Chell realized that the robot hadn't spoken in quite a while. She was used to GLaDOS taking up all the air in the room and pushing out all opportunities for other thoughts.
Chell didn't know how to read silence.
Her lungs emptied with a deep sigh, and she pulled in a clear breath and clasped her hands together. Chell gave them a squeeze as the elevator slowed to a stop. She could feel a tremble that she hoped didn't show.
GLaDOS took a careful glance at her elevator companion. Unlike the darting and jittery movements of human eyeballs, hers did not require minuscule adjustments. Every portion of her field of view was perfectly crisp, peripheral edges included. She could simply sweep her eyes to the side and back, flawlessly capturing and processing data.
Her hands shifted on the portal gun, not because it was too heavy for her but to compensate for the swaying from the elevator's motion. The handle fitted nicely into her hands—a more ergonomic design than she had expected. A part of her wondered what it felt like to utilize the dual portal device. The closest she'd ever come was when that pathetic potato had been impaled on Chell's portal gun.
Despite proctoring thousands of tests, she had never spent an extended period in proximity to a portal. Those swirling particles always obscured their borders, and GLaDOS wanted to touch the edges of those alluring ovals. Would the border be a hard outline, with the center stamped out like a cookie-cutter? Or would it be a soft edge, marking where one reality faded into another?
She made a note to investigate this. Hands-on experience was the best kind of experience.
GLaDOS sensed the human's shifts. She took another glance, her eyes rebounding after seeing Chell scrub her hand as if trying to remove her epidermis. Ridiculous. It wasn't like this body was toxic to the touch. At least, not in the short term. Long-term effects were still being studied.
She bit back a comment to suggest it would take more than a simple hand washing to scrub off the carcinogens Chell had just acquired. She wanted to see if she could push that neurotic-looking behavior in a more extreme direction, but she was not in a joking mood.
A frown flashed across her facial features as she flipped through her body language database. She couldn't get a solid reading on Chell's emotional state—the posture and movements of the human suggested multiple, conflicting feelings. Why couldn't it be narrowed down to one? That would have been much simpler to deal with.
Breaking her relative silence, Caroline offered up a piece of commentary. "I can't believe she followed you."
GLaDOS gave a dip of her head in acknowledgment, which might have looked like a posture adjustment to an outsider. But her posture was always perfect—rigid, upright, and carrying her body without fail in a way much unlike the human spine.
The elevator gave a gentle ting to announce their arrival. GLaDOS stepped forward and then paused, reaching an upturned and expectant hand behind her. When she did not feel the warmth of the human's hand connecting with her own, she let her hand fall and pivoted on her heel.
"Look, just because that ride took a while doesn't mean I've forgotten—" She paused as her gaze fell upon the woman, realizing that Chell's hands were moving.
"We need to talk," Chell signed, the three signs flowing together in a visual language that GLaDOS immediately identified as American Sign Language.
The human's eyes darted across the android's face, waiting as GLaDOS took a moment to process this development. The AI had only ever seen Chell use an occasional word—never full sentences.
Chell pointed an index finger at GLaDOS and then brought a flat hand to tap at her forehead. She shifted into holding up both index fingers and moved them in a circle toward herself. The hands hovered in the air as Chell stared in the direction of GLaDOS's face with lifted eyebrows.
A question.
"I do have access to a visual library of that sign language, yes." Running a visual language through her translation suite took longer than processing an audio feed, but the lag would have no functional impact on her ability to communicate. Chell wouldn't be able to notice the difference. "I didn't know you were fluent," GLaDOS said flatly.
"Barely," Chell signed. "I'm not Deaf. Hearing." A horizontal index finger moved in a circle in front of her lips.
GLaDOS gave a single nod. "I know you are, despite how frequently you ignore every single thing I say."
"We need to talk," Chell signed again, not holding the last sign or raising her eyebrows. This was not a question.
"No." GLaDOS's voice was sharp in response. "We have nothing to talk about."
Chell gave a sharp exhale through her nose and shook her head. "We can't—" she signed, pursing her lips and then briefly switching to fingerspelling, "p-r-e-t-e-n-d everything is fine."
GLaDOS narrowed her gaze, preparing to throw back an answer before being interrupted by a small voice in the back of her mind.
"She's offering you a chance to learn what's going on in her head," Caroline said. "Take it."
Scanning Chell's posture, GLaDOS noticed the woman's eyes were cast to the side. Almost like she was hiding something. Perhaps it would be beneficial to humor her, if only to discover what was making her look so suspicious. "Fine. But make it quick," GLaDOS said. She had more important things to do than talk about Chell's feelings.
GLaDOS braced her hand against the frame of the elevator and stared at Chell. A moment passed and the human didn't look up or begin the conversation. Perhaps she was waiting for an audio cue. "So," GLaDOS started, "are you ready to apologize?"
Chell's head snapped upright. "After you," she signed with a scowl.
"Apologize? For what?"
Chell jabbed an index finger toward the android. "You're still mad at me."
"I am not," GLaDOS said. "I've put our past behind me. And I'm willing to put this behind me too. As soon as you tell me you're sorry."
"You threatened to kill me!" Chell's arms trembled before they fell to her sides.
"I didn't say that."
Chell stared while GLaDOS willed herself to keep her facial features inexpressive. The human squeezed her eyes closed and then opened them, nose beginning to scrunch up.
"What?" GLaDOS said, taking a half-step back. She brought the portal gun up to her chest and wrapped both arms around the device. "I mean, why would I say that? Your continued existence benefits us both. You can't test for me if you're dead."
"I know what I heard." Chell's thumb lingered against her ear, index and middle finger bent.
"Just like you knew that door was locked?" GLaDOS gave a small snort despite herself.
Chell shot her a dirty look.
A part of her had hoped that the comment would come across as a playful jab, but GLaDOS now understood she had thrown flour into the fire. Perhaps it had not been the most tactful thing to say.
"You're a liar," Chell signed.
Well, that wasn't quite what the human had signed—Chell had used the sign for honest and then negated it—but GLaDOS knew what she had meant.
"What is she saying?" Caroline said, her voice an urgent whisper.
GLaDOS hesitated, attempting to internally wave away the voice. She couldn't deny being a liar considering how many times she had lied to Chell. "Okay, fine," GLaDOS said, admitting to the gaffe. "I was trying to make a joke about the door. You know—an inside joke. Like friends share."
"We are not friends." Chell yanked apart her two interlocked index fingers. She pinched her middle fingers to her thumbs and then flicked toward herself. "You still hate me."
"Hate you? I was trying to help you," GLaDOS said, dismissing a notice as her core temperature rose above recommended parameters. She stabbed a finger toward Chell. "You know that there are some areas here beyond my control. If something bad happened to you out there, I wouldn't be able to help." Of course, she didn't mention that the majority of those areas were now accessible to her. This was a matter of principle. "It's not safe for you out there," she said.
Chell threw an arm across her chest, pointing her index and pinkie fingers. She slammed a fist into her elbow and then flicked her fingers away. "Bullshit!" she signed, a foot stamping the ground.
A jolt zipped through GLaDOS. "Hey!" she said, frowning. "Language!"
Doubt rippled across Chell's face. "You're serious?" she signed, incredulous.
"Of course I am!" GLaDOS said. "Just because you're mad doesn't mean we can't talk like adults."
Chell gave a half roll of her eyes, eyelids fluttering. She lifted her hands and began to sign something before she stopped herself. "I hate you," she signed, releasing the middle fingers that were pressed to her thumbs as she shoved her hands in GLaDOS's direction.
"If you really hate me so much, then why did you come back?" GLaDOS said with a barely detectable waver.
Chell averted her gaze, glancing toward the android's feet. Loose strands of hair obscured her face but the shift in posture told GLaDOS all she needed to know. For a second, Chell appeared almost...broken.
GLaDOS looked down at the portal gun in her arms instead, focusing on its scuff marks.
"I had to," Chell signed, the motions pointed.
A feeling of hurt stirred inside of the android. She didn't understand this ache of disappointment that seemed to physically weigh down her joints. Had a part of her hoped that Chell wanted to come back? That she felt some semblance of a positive connection toward Aperture—or toward GLaDOS?
"Just how bad was it out there?" she asked, voice a bit softer. She gave a slight tilt of the head.
Chell raised a flat hand to her chin, then bent her wrist and pushed toward the floor. "Bad." She did not look up. She did not elaborate.
Something disgusting coiled around GLaDOS's artificial nervous system and then constricted. She wasn't certain if she'd encountered this particular emotion before. What was it? Sympathy? No, that wasn't it. She didn't care about whatever hardships Chell had endured on the surface. Those were the woman's own fault for having walked away from the Enrichment Center. Her gaze tracked from left to right as she tried to classify the feeling and her eyebrows furrowed. Dear God, was this empathy?
Before she could be certain, Chell's hands moved again, albeit halfheartedly. "Not much better here," she signed.
The enigmatic feeling snapped into the depths of her metal heart. "You're wrong," GLaDOS blurted out. "This is miles better than whatever miserable life you scraped together on the surface. You should be grateful."
Food. Water. Shelter. Safety. Clean clothing. Medical attention. Mental and physical enrichment. These were all things GLaDOS was currently providing, and it was far more than she'd ever supplied a human with before. It was all given to Chell at a fair cost. More than fair, actually. Especially when Chell wasn't upholding her end of the bargain.
"You're doing the bare minimum," Chell signed. "People need more than food and water. I'm not a—" She paused to search for a word. "G-e-r-b-i-l," she spelled out.
"I don't know what you're expecting here. If you're not finding the tests to be mentally stimulating, I'm sure I can dig up some additional testing elements to include."
"It's not about the testing," Chell signed, using big bends of her index fingers as she moved them down and chained the motions to one another.
"Don't tell me you're still mad about that test chamber."
"When the door locked—"
"It didn't lock," GLaDOS corrected.
"When the door closed—"
"You should have gotten my attention."
"I thought you closed it on purpose."
"And why would I do that?"
Chell lifted her eyes and glared. GLaDOS maintained eye contact but then shifted away. All right. Point taken. She tightened her grip around the dual portal device.
"Look, even if you were right—" she said, "—and you're not—it would have been just one test. It wasn't even a hard one."
"It is never just one test." Chell took her time to enunciate each sign.
"There are no tests," she said, hoping this would placate the human. She took a moment to set the portal gun aside. "You got worked up over nothing. There's no reason to stay upset."
"I thought—"
"You thought wrong."
Chell chopped her hand down onto her palm, cutting off GLaDOS. "Stop."
Though the visual input was processed at higher-than-average speeds, GLaDOS felt her software hang. Possibilities for responses stretched out in each direction, but none offered themselves up as the ideal next move. She opened her mouth to speak, but Chell sharply raised a hand to shush her.
"You don't get it!" Chell pushed forward, her words a hammer on a wedge. "The door—the test—they don't matter. I ran because I thought—" she signed, blinking a few times. She swiped the back of her hand across her eyes, smearing away the angry tears. She signed, "I thought everything we did together—" Her chest tightened. Her breathing wavered. "That it was all just a mean trick."
She held the middle of her fist against her index finger.
Trick.
Panic flashed through GLaDOS like a power cycle. "That is enough!" She took two darting steps into the elevator and snatched at Chell's wrist. But before making contact, her balance rocked and the robot stumbled backward as two hands shoved against her chest.
GLaDOS froze as her consciousness struggled to keep pace with the rest of her systems. With a lightning-quick and automatic posture recalibration, the android's footing steadied.
Chell staggered back after her push, metal against metal squealing as a heel spring snagged. She faltered and then fell, the back of her skull banging against the curved glass before she landed. The pain didn't even register as she scrambled to push herself into a sitting position and press her back to the wall.
Emotions lit up inside of GLaDOS like a frayed strip of LEDs. Her expression shifted into a snarl as she realized what had happened: Chell had pushed her. She lifted a foot, ready to advance.
Chell flinched, throwing her arms up to shield her face. She twisted her head away and squeezed her eyes closed.
"Wait!" Caroline shouted. "I don't know what she said, but it couldn't have been that bad. You need to de-escalate this right now." She spouted a (likely) file location within the legacy Test Associate directory and GLaDOS opened the manual titled Advanced Altercation Avoidance at Aperture (AAAaA).
GLaDOS internally took in the guidelines not word by word or paragraph by paragraph, but all at once.
Do not block exits.
Unless it's the exit to a testing track.
Or if subject exiting would create a larger security risk.
For a moment, neither of them moved. Chell's chest rose and fell as she struggled to pull in shallow breaths. When nothing but silence filled the human's ears, she blinked her eyes open and stared at the android's feet before her gaze darted up. GLaDOS was leaning into the elevator, hands curled tightly at her sides, halfway into a step forward. Chell felt her stomach tighten and her legs waver as she met a pair of cold yellow eyes.
"I—" GLaDOS started, breaking off as she stared at Chell's face. Her foot lowered to the ground. Her hands unfurled like flowers at dawn. "I'm not going to hurt you," she said. She took one, two, three steps backward, leaving a gap between her body and the elevator doors.
GLaDOS watched as Chell locked eyes with her and pushed herself to her feet with all the grace of a newborn giraffe. One of her hands curled around the handrail, white-knuckled. She crossed the other arm over her chest, hand squeezing around her upper arm. Chell felt a buzz of static electricity as her hair brushed the glass.
"Good," Caroline said. "Next technique."
Apologize.
GLaDOS fought the urge to delete this ancient policy. This suggestion was misguided at best. Where had these ideas even come from? Some washed-up psychologist? Her attention snagged on an acknowledgment to the U.S. Department of Justice before she turned back to the de-escalation technique. She picked through the text for a loophole.
Acknowledge an event has occurred that could reasonably provoke a negative reaction.
"Look, I—" she paused, taking a few steps to the side. "I didn't mean to scare you. I didn't know you would react like that."
Chell's glare did not waver. "I wasn't scared," she signed, two splayed hands in front of her center as she shook her head. "You just," she paused, "surprised me."
This would have been a good place for GLaDOS to assure Chell that she wouldn't do that again.
Instead, she said, "I wanted you to come with me."
"Then just ask me," Chell signed, pulling a curled index finger toward herself. "I would have done it."
"I'm having a hard time trusting you right now."
Chell pressed her knuckles into the palm of her other hand, deep in thought. "The feeling is mutual," she signed, the double y handshapes moving in parallel between the two of them.
"Would you please come out of the elevator?" GLaDOS tried, and Caroline gave an internal chime of contentment as the AI utilized another technique from the document she had committed to memory decades ago.
Chell frowned for a brief moment and then stepped outside of the elevator. When the doors slid closed, she stopped and leaned a hand against the glass. Her other hand ran through her loose hair. She tried to focus on her breathing, willing it to steady out again.
"You were—" GLaDOS paused, the next words thick in her throat. "You were right. We can't keep doing this." She crossed her arms. "And I shouldn't have cut you off. That couldn't have been an easy thing to tell me."
"Congratulations," Caroline said. "You've expressed some basic sympathy. Did you know that most children have developed this skill by the age of six?" She gave a thoughtful hum.
The robot gave a synthesized sigh.
Chell leaned against the elevator, head dipped toward her feet.
"Let's both just…give each other another chance," GLaDOS said.
The human took an extended breath, her exhale obvious. Then she gave a single, distinct nod.
GLaDOS's posture relaxed ever so slightly. "Do you know the way back to your vault from here?"
Chell slipped her free hand behind her neck, giving another short nod.
"All right," GLaDOS said, a bit of hesitance in her voice. "Go ahead and go, then. Just don't take any major detours."
Chell straightened, taking a moment to search GLaDOS's face for the sign of a joke or sarcasm. She couldn't detect anything obvious. With a swallow, she raised a flat hand to her chin and then pressed it toward GLaDOS. "Thank you," she signed.