On the long elevator ride down, they talked. Well, GLaDOS talked. Chell listened, with some sheets of paper in one hand and a pencil in the other. Just in case she needed to pipe in. Her arms were crossed across her body.
"You know, I don't usually accompany Blue and Orange when they go on these...expeditions. But you need a babysitter," said GLaDOS. She shot a glance at Chell. "Nothing personal."
ATLAS and P-body took another way down. It was already cramped in the elevator with just the two of them. Four of them wouldn't fit. They had their own sets of pneumatic tubes that GLaDOS had hooked up to Old Aperture.
Chell pressed herself to the side of the elevator, while GLaDOS stood in the middle, hands on her hips, taking up much more space than necessary. Chell didn't look at the android when she spoke.
"This is the first time that I've been down here since...you know," she said lowly. She shuddered for a moment, even though she knew she didn't need to. She shifted, taking a half-step toward Chell. Chell stared at the entrance to the elevator, willing the elevator to go faster.
The elevator dinged. "Well, guess we're here," said GLaDOS. Chell exhaled. They stepped out of the elevator and into the world of Old Aperture.
Old Aperture was a mess.
This was the first thought that crossed Chell's mind as they walked down a catwalk to what Chell suspected would be an office area. GLaDOS hadn't told her yet what they were doing down here today, but she assumed that it would be some sort of scavenger hunt. Bold yellow lettering was plastered on the side of the block of buildings: 1992.
1992? So they hadn't gone as far down as Chell had thought. She didn't remember having ever gone through this section of the facility before. It felt almost modern, with once-white walls and tinges of red painting the atmosphere. This reminded Chell of the first time that she had escaped. The back areas of Aperture then were similar to these areas now.
They stepped into an office area. Chairs were tipped. Papers scattered everywhere. Pencils and pens were left on desks as if they had just stopped being used. Boxy monitors flickered, the Aperture logo burned into their screens after so many years. This place was frozen in time. And it had been a time of panic.
"Our goal today is to look for a login for Caroline, or perhaps even Mr. Johnson himself. Someone that can get administrator access so that I can transfer myself back to my old body," she said. "Now this won't be easy. But hopefully someone was dumb enough to leave their login information on a post-it note somewhere."
Chell took a step forward, almost overwhelmed by the sight of the disarray. Where was she supposed to even start? How was she going to be able to sift through all of this paperwork? It would take them ages to sort through this room alone, and she knew this wasn't the only office down here. There could be hundreds of offices.
Then again, Chell supposed that they had all the time in the world. Even if it took them years of searching, they would eventually find something. Otherwise, GLaDOS had better get used to being in an android body more permanently.
Chell took a little bit of comfort in this fact. Since GLaDOS didn't trust ATLAS and P-body to find this password on their own, this meant that she would have breaks from testing. Not that Chell could test right now—she felt at her side and winced slightly. She wasn't ready to go back yet.
She felt a bit more comfortable down here in Old Aperture than she did up above in the modern Enrichment Center. GLaDOS still had power down here, of course, but it was much more limited. Much more contained. She couldn't make the walls change, or move the floor out from under her. Not that GLaDOS had done those things to her specifically before, but the fact that she could do it, the fact that she was the modern facility, meant that Chell could never fully relax knowing that everything around her could change with the snapping of a finger. Here, though, her heart beat a little bit slower.
Chell started to sift through a desk, moving aside papers and pencils, wiping off a desk calendar, taking quick glances at research proposals and employee files, but then putting them aside once she realized they were not what she was looking for. She continued this methodical approach, going through the area desk by desk, all the while keeping an eye on GLaDOS, who had a much different style of searching.
Instead of going desk by desk, GLaDOS jumped around in the room, going to whatever place caught her attention. They did not speak as they worked, which was a relief for Chell. She wasn't sure she could focus on the papers and the desks and talk at the same time, too.
Eventually Chell stumbled across something that seemed out of place: A large, silver disk. Larger than any compact disk that she'd seen before. In fact, it almost looked to be the size of a smaller record. Chell picked it up carefully, fingertips on its edges so that she couldn't smudge it up or scratch it.
"Oh, wonderful," said GLaDOS, looking up from her search. "You've found more of my schematics." She started to approach Chell, and Chell caught sight of a large whiteboard behind GLaDOS. Chell froze in her steps, the disk reflecting back a face full of sudden fear. On that whiteboard was a clear distinct message left there decades before. The blue ink stared back at her.
DO NOT TRUST HER.
Chell felt her stomach twist. She knew it. She knew that she wasn't supposed to trust her. But what was she supposed to do? She pulled the disk back to her chest, thinking for a moment.
"Now hold on there," said GLaDOS. "Let's stop and think about this." She side-eyed the whiteboard, understanding lighting up in her eyes. "What you're holding there is harmless. I promise."
Chell raised her eyebrows, as if to ask, what is it?
"None of your business," GLaDOS said, straightening her posture. "You couldn't understand it if you tried," she said.
Chell just pulled the disk tighter to her chest, making it clear that she wasn't going to give it up without some answers.
"Okay, fine," she said. "They're schematics for this section of the facility. If we upload them, then I regain control over these sections of the facility. There. That doesn't sound too bad, now does it?" she said.
Chell thought for a long moment.
If GLaDOS was right, then she would regain control of this section of the facility. She would integrate this area into the rest of the facility as if it was a part of the modern enrichment center. She would have control over the rooms and the layouts and the test chambers that were surely tucked around a corner somewhere. It would take away from her this sense of relaxation and relief that GLaDOS didn't have control over this area.
"Trust me," said GLaDOS. "They're just blueprints and access codes. Nothing to worry about."
Chell bit her lip. If GLaDOS was lying about this—well, she didn't want to think about the consequences of her actions. Maybe this would make her more powerful. Maybe this would give her even more control over the facility than she had had before.
GLaDOS picked her way past piles of papers and over to Chell. She reached out a hand.
Reluctantly, Chell handed over the disk.
Though they had not found what they were looking for, GLaDOS seemed to be in good spirits nonetheless. Chell had watched as she put the disk into its reader. A projector came to life, flashing through blueprints and schematics before their eyes. Chell felt a bit of relief wash over her—GLaDOS hadn't been lying to her. They did indeed look like what the supercomputer had described. As soon as the projector started projecting, though, something happened.
Blue and Orange exploded, violently, and Chell nearly jumped out of her skin.
"They didn't need to see that," GLaDOS said simply. "Unfortunately, I have to blow them up. It's the only way I can retrieve them from down here—by violently disassembling them and then carefully reassembling them."
Strange, Chell thought. Did the pneumatic tubes really only go one way? Did she really have that many disposable parts that she could just blow up robots and will and re-manufacture them with nothing but a simple thought & a simple command? Something about it didn't sit right with her.
She turned back to the desk in front of her, picking up another sheet of paper to skim.
"Don't worry about that," said GLaDOS. "We've done enough work for today. We just need to take care of one little thing before we head back upstairs." The schematics flashed back up on the projector screen as GLaDOS used a keyboard and mouse to navigate them. There was something funny about watching such a sophisticated and complex piece of machinery operate another much less complex one.
Chell wasn't sure if they had wireless connections down here—clearly GLaDOS had one with ATLAS and P-body, but she would guess that if she could interface with the computers down here wirelessly, she wouldn't be at that terminal. So even GLaDOS was limited in her powers down here—without a wireless connection, she was restricted to using ports—and Chell wasn't sure when Aperture had started making cores. This gave Chell a little bit of relief. So GLaDOS was still restricted. At least while she was in this mobile chassis.
Chell set the paper down, glancing over at GLaDOS expectantly and then glancing away.
"Ah, there we go," said GLaDOS. The schematics were up on the screen, blueprints with white outlines of buildings and rooms on them. "Well, if you want to continue," she paused, "living, we're going to have to find you some food."
Chell glanced at her stomach. Yeah. Food would be nice. It made sense to her that a facility that hadn't housed people in decades might be out of food. But why would there be food down here and not up there?
"What, did you think that I had an infinite supply of food?" said GLaDOS, moving toward the door. She beckoned for Chell to follow her. Chell set down the paper and followed her. "The Enrichment Center has no need for humans," she said. "And thus, no need for food."
Chell frowned, pressing one of her loose sheets of paper to the wall and scrawling out a question.
What about the test subjects?
"Oh, right. That's easy. Adrenal vapor suppresses hunger signals. So long as that's pumping through their veins, we don't have to waste food on them."
Chell thought back to the times she'd tested, and about how more recently, she had felt hungry while testing. She hadn't felt hungry before—she supposed that this meant that GLaDOS had followed through on the no adrenal vapor request that she had made. Then again, she couldn't picture herself stopping between tests to take a lunch break. Something about that just felt wrong.
They wound their way through the catwalks and offices until they found what looked like an average supply closet. Chell jiggled the knob. Unlocked. Surprising. She pulled the door open further and found that this supply closet was filled to the brim with food and water. Chell's face lit up, but her memory went somewhere else.
She thought back to when she first tested for GLaDOS—the areas outside the test chambers. Blood on the walls. Mad scribbles of someone, someone who had gone through this all before her. Someone who had guided her to the Main AI Chamber. They—whoever they were—had left traces of life behind. Empty cans of food. Cartons of water, cartons of milk. Signs of life, of survival. But she did not bring this up to GLaDOS. She figured that would be a sore spot for her—to admit that there had been another human out there that had defied the odds.
"Go on," said GLaDOS. "Pick out your dinner. Just don't take too much."
Chell waited for the fat joke that was sure to accompany that. But surprisingly, it didn't come. She moved her hands across the smooth metal cans, enjoying for a moment the smooth texture on her fingertips. She continued feeling it for a moment longer than necessary, and just as GLaDOS was about to ask her what the hell she was doing, she finally settled on a can and picked it out, and then grabbed a carton of water.
"You know, there's areas like this all around the facility," said GLaDOS. "Ever since the humans had their Cold War, Aperture became obsessed with being able to withstand a nuclear attack. The whole facility's a giant bunker," she said, moving toward the closet entrance. Chell moved, giving the android plenty of room. GLaDOS grabbed a can of beans and another carton of water.
"What?" she said. "It's for tomorrow. I'll send down Orange and Blue tomorrow with some weighted storage cubes—they can bring up the rest of it. But for now, you need to eat."
Chell set down her can and her carton, bringing back up her pencil and paper.
What happens when the food runs out?
GLaDOS took a look at the paper that Chell held up to her. "Don't worry about that," she said. "As long as we get more of my schematics—which we will— then we'll find all of the stashes around here. That should be more than plenty for someone of your—" she hesitated, trying to find the right word. "Stature," she settled on. "If you intend to stay here permanently—which you're contractually bound to—then you will be fed."
They made their way back to the lift to the modern Enrichment Center. Fortunately these cans were the pop-top type—no can-opener required. Chell noticed this right away. Chell's stomach growled and she stared at the can of beans in her hand. She set down the canister of water and—
Crack.
The metal lid peeled off of the can of beans smoothly. Chell lifted it to her lips, a slightly acidic smell curling into her nose. Made sense. Who knew what kind of preservatives Aperture had invented to keep this food stable for so long? She tipped it back and a clump of beans slid into her mouth.
Not bad. Not great, but not bad either.
GLaDOS stared at her, trying not to drop the things in her hands.
"You're an animal," she hissed.