Chapter 6

Caroline barely heard the knock on the door.

"Come in," she said, rubbing her eyes. Her frazzled assistant stepped in, a thick envelope tucked under his arm.

"Your budget reports." Caroline held out an upturned palm, staring. The dark-red haired man handed it over—after all, the CEO insisted upon it. She had done the reports every other year she'd worked for Aperture, and she wasn't about to stop now.

She tossed the envelope into a desk drawer, twisting the key in the lock. She gave a pained smile—she already knew what was in that envelope. Spending reports. Dismal profit reports. And beneath it all, a small envelope containing a check with enough money to run Aperture for another year. Science must continue—that's what mattered, right? Where the money came from wasn't important.

"We did get those camera set up in Mr. Rattmann's office," said Greg, hovering.

"If anyone other than Doug goes into that room," Caroline said, "you let me know." And Greg knew as well as anyone that the CEO would want to know this immediately, regardless of the time of day.

"So why the change in heart?" he said. "You've got him pegged as a loyal Aperture employee in his file."

She glanced back at her filing cabinets—they took up over half of her office. She had a certain, well, obsession with keeping up-to-date records on the facility. In fact, she considered making herself a file room—though she refused to switch completely to computers.

She pulled out Doug's file, flipping to the schizophrenia page.

Oh, she had detailed notes here. And for good reason, too. Close shaves like the one with Jerry only validated her suspicions. She could never be too sure of how many spies lurked within her facility's walls—or when one of them might strike.

"He's being targeted by spies," she said. "I know it. They're up to something. And as soon as I can prove it, I'll use them for testing."

She could never have too many test subjects, after all. She loved testing—in fact, she lived for it. Experiments. Results. Variables. Caroline stared at Rattmann's file, mulling it over. An idea sparked.

Like the majority of Aperture employees, Doug got his medicine in-house, from the pharmaceutical and medical research wing. She tapped on the edge of her phone for a moment before dialing a number.

"Aperture Science Center for the Creation and Distribution of Medicine," a bored female voice answered. "May I help you?"

"You could start by telling me when Mr. Rattmann's due for a prescription refill." A scramble on the other end-the instant recognition of her voice always sped things up.

"Not for a few weeks yet," she said, more energetic than before.

"Good." She drew out the word. "Take his medicine and replace a fourth of it with a strong hallucinogenic. But make sure they look identical," she said. "He can't know."

Doug Rattmann let information slip into Black Mesa hands—and while she still wanted to keep him around, she couldn't let that slide. She deserved a little experimentation—wasn't that the point of keeping around a schizophrenic scientist?


Jerry grabbed picture frames from the shelf, shoving them into a bag.

"What are you doing?" said Chell. She lounged on the couch, staring out a window. It was late, and she only saw the soft glow of street lamps. No sign of the moon.

"Packing," he said. "For vacation. We're leaving in an hour."

Chell frowned—it was late. Past the time of dashing off on vacations, and yet her parents grabbed things as if they were fleeing the country.

She went into her room anyways—getting ready to leave should be easy enough. Every article of clothing she owned slipped easily into a roller suitcase. She shoved in a few other objects as well—just as she saw her parents do. She had room to spare.

She hauled her bag to the car, tossing it in to the rapidly filling trunk. Whatever this trip was, Chell got the feeling it was for longer than just the weekend. After climbing into the car, she rested her head against the cool glass window. She yawned. Her parents darted to and from the house, shoving in random items before slamming the trunk closed.

"We'll get the rest after everything cools down," said Jerry. The engine roared to life, headlights sweeping over familiar streets as they pulled out and drove away. Warm air hissed out, and Chell drifted into a daze.

The car sputtered to a stop, and Chell jerked awake. "Where are we?" she said, voice groggy.

"Aperture. We just need to grab a couple of things before we get going."


Chell's fingers trembled as she punched in Doug's passcode. 1498. Easy enough to remember. A green light flashed, and the door popped open.

"Grab the ASHPD," Emily whispered. "You know where it is."

"Why?"

"Your paranoid friend's gone for this weekend—" she said, "this is our one chance to get it." After being suspended in a state of suspense for the past few weeks, her parents had only just decided that nothing would come out of Jerry's slip up. Absolutely nothing had happened—they didn't suspect him. At all. And now was the time to strike.

Jerry yanked at drawer handles, the metal clanging. Locked. He pulled again, and each refused to budge—without the keys, they weren't getting to the blueprints. He cursed.

Low on a shelf, Chell caught a glimpse of a smooth white shell. One look told her it was one of the yet-to-be converted portal devices—and that one in particular was a single-portal device. Doug tended to save those for last. They were much easier to modify. Chell said nothing, but a moment later Emily spotted it. She dove into the shelving, grabbing at it. Things clattered, and Chell cringed—quietness remained an essential part of this mission. Even she had heard the horror stories whispered among employees about Black Mesa spies. Disappearance. Testing—until they died. Experimented on. Turned into a biology project. The possibilities were only limited by the imagination. But more than anything else, Chell didn't want her—or her parents—caught.

Jerry hefted up the device, smiling. Almost giddy. "We've finally got it!" he said, waving it around. All they had to do was take it and run, not stopping until they hit New Mexico.

"And look," said Emily, digging around the same shelf. She yanked out a few papers, flipping through. "They're blueprints." Chell watched, grimacing inside. The internal configuration of the single-portal device varied from the dual-portal device, and Doug had found it easier to keep it on hand.

"We've got to call these in," he said. "This can't wait. And no one's here."

Chell sprinted to Doug's telephone and pressed her hand against it. "Call her first," she said, face slack with desperation.

Emily's gaze softened. She nodded, reaching out for the phone. Chell refused, punching in from memory the phone number her mother gave her. As it rang, she handed it over. Considering how unpleasant Judith could be in the mornings, Chell didn't want to try talking to her in the earliest hours of the morning.

Chell shivered, rubbing her arms. Her sweatpants did little to keep out the chill, and her jacket—she'd forgotten it in the Employee Daycare Center a few days ago.

She could run and grab it—it's not like the two would care if she disappeared for a moment. Besides, if they were leaving with a stolen portal device, the chances of returning to Aperture was slim. And she wanted to leave Doug a message—a way to say goodbye.

The phone rang in Emily's ear, eventually clicking into voicemail. She glanced up, seeing Chell head for the door. "Where are you going?" she said, hand over the receiver. Chell rubbed her arms again and mouthed the word 'jacket.'

She slipped out the door.

"She didn't pick up," said Emily, waiting until she was certain the girl was out of earshot. "Let's just go straight to Black Mesa."

He agreed, and she tapped in the number. The plus to this was that they, unlike Mossman, would get the credit if they went directly to Black Mesa—and they were going to need all of the good credit they could get.

The other end picked up and the two dove into conversation.

Emily and Jerry passed the phone like a TV remote, each struggling for control. "Right here, there's a breakdown—cooling fans, a ring singularity ring, an event horizon estimator wheel," said Jerry, but Emily pulled at the phone.

"The whole thing's powered by a miniature black hole—an infinite amount of power in an infinitely small space," she said. "But see if you can get this to Dr. Rosenberg—-"

The phone line cut off in a shower of sparks. Emily jumped away. A speaker mounted on the wall gave a soft click.

"Oh. Looks like the phone line to your room's been cut," said a familiar voice. "I don't know why that happened."

A pause. A panic. Emily shoved the blueprints into Jerry's bag. He darted to the door, slick hands yanking at the handle. A keypad started up at him, red light blinking. The digits stared up at him, waiting for him to punch in the code. It was only a combination of four numbers—it couldn't be that difficult.

"What was the code?" he yelled, punching random buttons. The red light continued to blink.

"I don't know!" she said, searching for Chell until she remembered that the girl had left—and she was their only way out. This room had no exits, no windows, and no portal conductive surfaces—the ASHPD was useless in here

The voice continued to come through the speaker, though muffled. "Hold on a minute," said Caroline. "I'm sending down a security crew. Don't go anywhere."

"Get down," Emily hissed, clutching the Portal gun. The two ducked behind the counter.

"So was there anything you wanted to say to me?" said Caroline. "An apology, perhaps? We have plenty of time."

"I bet I can hit one of them," Jerry whispered. "I'll catch them by surprise an can make a break for it."

"Hiding only reflects negatively on you as Aperture Employees," said Caroline. "But then again, I shouldn't be too surprised, knowing what I do about you."

"She can't do anything to us," Emily said. "We haven't done anything." Besides, they'd been working as spies for years—surely the company would help them out of this.

"I'll go ahead and do the honors of calling Black Mesa for you," said Caroline.

"Why?" said Jerry, voice raised. Perhaps if they denied it altogether, she would stop.

"You broke into Doug Rattmann's office, attempted to remove vital testing equipment, and placed a call to the Black Mesa Research Facility from an Aperture phone. I'm not dumb, you know," she said. "Though I'm sure your employer will be thrilled to hear about your latest promotion at Aperture—I'll go ahead and do the honors. Tell them how horrible you were at spying—how it wasn't right for you," she said. "And, of course, how much stress it was on your family. Your daughter," she said, smirking behind her microphone.

She switched the camera's views to the rest of the lab, searching for the girl. Empty shelves and abandoned equipment dominated her view, and it took her a half-second to realize the girl was nowhere in sight.

A twinge of panic rose up in her—where was the girl? She was by far the most capable spy of the bunch—and she had just been in the room. Caroline switched off her microphone and glared over at Greg. "Find her. I don't care if you have to lock down this facility—you FIND that girl."


Beeps and blares shook the enrichment center.

Chell paused, twisting—behind her, light flashed and a chamberlock hissed closed. In the distance she heard shots and footsteps. She broke into a run, motion lights illuminating her path with streaks of red and white. As the alarms and shouts grew louder, the girl threw herself under a desk in a nearby office.

She listened, catching her breath.

The alarms cut off, replaced with more yells. Feet clanged down the catwalks. A security team dashed by, hurrying toward Doug's lab. She held her breath as streaks of light flickered in from the hallway, then disappeared.

Silence reigned again. Chell peeked out the doorway, the men's silhouettes disappearing into the haze of distance.

She took one final look before breaking into another run. The Employee Daycare Center came into view, but one look through the smudged glass windows told her it was not a good place to hide. The open desks and opaque walls would be a nightmare for hide-and-seek, much less for hide-from-the-security-team. She darted inside and grabbed her jacket, shrugging it on.

Chell flipped the corner, heading to her second-best shot: the science fair hall. Dark, abandoned, and a bit eerie, it made the perfect place to hide. The sides of each table extended to the floor, creating little dark caves. The table's fourth side remained open—and each open side faced toward the clear walls of the Center. A problem.

Chell twisted, searching for another spot. A scrunched-up banner sat on a table—a leftover from a previous Bring Your Daughter to Work Day over eleven years ago. Perfect. She grabbed it, hitting off some of the dust before draping it like a tablecloth. When folded in half, it completely covered the area beneath the desk.

She crawled underneath, darkness overwhelming her vision. She wiped the dust on her pant leg. The banner swayed, and patches of light darted in and out until the banner stilled. Chell pulled her knees to her chest and breathed, the chill of the air sliding through her body.

She rested her head against her knees. Exhaustion overwhelmed her—she wanted nothing more than to fall asleep—to rest her head against the desk's edge and pretend that she was back in the car, back on a road trip with the warm air and constant motion lulling her to sleep.

But sleep was out of the question. Those alarms and that security team could have only meant one thing: her parents had been caught. And, for the first time since she'd come to Aperture, Chell felt afraid—it was only a matter of time before she was discovered.

It was quiet here, and the silence terrified her.


A/N: ((Surprise! We're doing it now!)) No really, you should have seen that one coming...

I left Caroline's lines at the beginning rather vague for a reason-if you can guess why, you win all of the bonus points.

Anyways, I hope everyone's enjoying this story! A huge thanks to everyone that's faved/followed/reviewed so far. It's incredibly encouraging!