Chapter 9
Maybe Black Mesa
The first time Black Mesa called her, Cave Johnson was days away from death. They'd called Caroline's office directly—one of the most effective ways to get her undivided attention. Cave's line was always far busier than her own.
She spoke for hours that day, letting her work pile so high that it took her the rest of the evening to catch up. And even then, she went through work in half-daze, unable to push the conversation from her mind.
She listened to the other end for a long time, lips pursed, before she softly thanked them and hung up.
Soft whirrs and mechanical clicks spun around her as she wove her way through the medical wing of Aperture. She paused at a door, pressing her hand against it.
She listened. Inside, she heard the distinctive boom of Cave Johnson's voice.
As his voice shattered into a coughing fit, Caroline swallowed once. She struggled to relax her face, to maintain the façade of control as she pushed her way in.
"Go on. Go. That's not working, so you might as well get out of here and start fixing it," he said, pushing away the electrodes attached to the side of his head and tossing them at two lab boys. "We're running out of time," he said. They didn't move. "Go on, you heard me. Out."
The scientists scrambled, shoving the experimental brain-mapping equipment to the side of the room and then shuffling out. Caroline closed the door behind them, turning back to face Aperture's CEO.
"Caroline!" he said. "What a joy it is to see your lovely face." Caroline gave a pained smile. Seeing him so pale and gaunt and sickly made it hard for her to stay cheerful. He was a mere shadow of the man he had once been.
"Sir," she said, pulling at a folder tucked underneath her arm. She slid out a few papers—charts and reports and estimates— then cleared her throat. On the bed, Cave punching at his pillow and shifting to better see his assistant. He winced, then noticed the stoic expression replacing her normal smile.
"Sorry to interrupt you, sir, but there's a problem. I've just gotten the latest reports, and they're not good," she said, showing him a jagged chart, lines plunging downward—Aperture's earnings in the past year.
"Caroline, science doesn't care about money. You know that by now."
"You put us in debt by over $70 million dollars," she said. "Sir, if we don't pay back that money, they have every right to shut us down. We're not going to have a company anymore."
"Quit worrying. We're not going to shut down the company —we'll find a way. We always do. There's gotta be something we can use. Those lab boys are always working on something."
Caroline paused, sifting through her papers. She rubbed at the back of her neck, then adjusted her scarf. While normally the staple of her wardrobe felt comforting, today it felt choking. This conversation wasn't going to be easy, and she had to play her cards right.
"Well," she said, "Just listen to me for a moment. I do have an idea, but you're not going to like it. "
"Caroline, nothing you say could be worse than this disease."
She paused, pulling in a breath. "You know Aperture's never been good at making commercially successful products. Repulsion gel, propulsion gel, turrets. For years, our only moneymaker's been shower curtains, and even those sales are down. We're in debt, and our contracts have tanked—"
"Get on with it," he said, breaking into another jarring cough. " I'm well aware that Black Mesa's left us with no incoming money. Damn those fools."
"That's just the thing, sir," she said, pulling out a new chart. "They're reporting record profits in recent years."
"That's because they've stolen everything we've made!" he said.
"Exactly," said Caroline. She paused, watching his face. While blank at first, it twisted as he began to put two and two together and guessed where this conversation was going. Caroline talked faster, not wanting to be cut off before she finished. "They've stolen from us for years, and they haven't even taken that much, considering what we've invented. They've taken our technology and improved it and then made tonsof money off of it."
"Your point?" he said, giving her a searching look.
"Imagine if they paid us for that. Those inventions—all of this science we have, just laying around. Being useless. But they can use it-and we can keep developing things because they'd be paying for it. Just imagine what we could do if we didn't have to worry about money."
Caroline pulled back, letting a heavy silence fall over it. This wasn't her idea, of course. Black Mesa gave her a simple enough proposal—Aperture made discoveries and invented things with no real life applications. Black Mesa, on the other hand, couldn't develop anything new to save their life. This had locked the two companies into a parasitic relationship, with the number one science company sucking the originality of the number two science company and morphing it into commercial success. If Aperture went bankrupt, so would Black Mesa. But with this partnership, Black Mesa would pay off their debt. And as long as Aperture left their research up for grabs, the bigger company would continue funding them-on one condition. The quantum tunneling device remained the sole property of Aperture.
While she had no problems with the rest of the plan, she told them that she wouldn't take the deal unless they made this exception. Risky, yes, but she couldn't let the tunneling device fall into their hands. All that Aperture did these days was testing. And every day of testing was a good day for science.
She hadn't agreed to it, though—after all, only the CEO could authorize that decision. But at this point, Aperture had two options—go bankrupt and close down the company, or accept Black Mesa's help. But if she hadn't acted as if the idea had been her own-if she had just told Cave about Black Mesa's proposition-he would flat out refuse it. He wouldn't see that it was their only shot at survival. But if his assistant, well-loved and well-appreciated, suggested the idea, there existed a slim chance that he would listen to reason.
"Caroline," he said, sinking back into his bed. His voice was soft and deflated, so different from the sheer energy and passion of previous years. "Did you just ask me to sell out to Black Mesa?"
Her hands curled around her papers. "We don't have any other choice, sir," she said, not making eye contact.
"Like hell we don't," he said, shifting again. "We've been running this company for years without their goddamned help, and we can get along fine without it. We'll get through this, Caroline. I wouldn't have bought those moon rocks if I didn't believe Aperture might have another shot at glory."
"Sir—" she said, hesitant.
"Look, we haven't been successful for a while, but we're changing that! We've got better test subjects now, thanks to some of those robot employees we made. And, we're making leaps in brain mapping," he said. "I've told you before— Artificial Intelligence is the future of tomorrow. It's too late for a medical miracle."
"But sir, we're getting closer to finding a cure in the medical wing. The lab rats are dying at a slower rate than they used to be."
"Look, the lab boys in here before have been working on me. Hooked up some electrodes, ran me through an MRI. Shocked me once or twice, but I didn't care. We're so close to figuring out brain mapping. I can feel it."
She shifted on her feet.
"I know what you're thinking—but Cave! You've only got weeks to live! know. But if the lab boys can't digitize my brain by the time I kick the bucket, I'll make sure it's done by the time you do."
Caroline turned back, walking to a cabinet and pulling out a familiar bottle of pain pills.
"Look, I know it's hard idea to get behind—not everyone would want to be uploaded into a computer—I'm not even sure what it involves. But if any of us can run this facility for the rest of eternity, it's you."
"I couldn't sir," said Caroline. "I have no wish to live forever." She twisted the handle on the sink. Cold water streamed out, bubbling in the little paper cup she held beneath. With two white pills curled in her other hand, she walked to the CEO's bedside and handed him the pain medication and water.
He swallowed, brushing the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. "Even if you're not crazy about the computer idea now, I still want you to run this place after I'm gone."
"You're sure?" she said.
"Are you kidding? You've been at my side since we first opened our doors to the world. It's only fitting for you to be the one to keep holding them open even after I leave. No one else even comes closeto you. I'd have signed over the company over years ago if I didn't like being in charge so much. You're the backbone of this place."
She couldn't argue with that. She knew she was by far the most qualified, and so did every other employee in Aperture. Sure, Cave's charisma motivated everyone to do science, but Caroline made sure everything didn't explode. She deserved this, and she knew it. She just wasn't sure if she could handle what came with the deal.
"Promise me one thing, though," he said, between coughs. Caroline cranked the faucet and poured another glass of water. He gulped down half of it before speaking again.
"Keep doing what you're doing. Make me proud, and make this place great again. I'm counting on you."
"Don't worry, sir," she said, with a slow not. Cave struggled as he pulled out forms sitting on the desk beside his bed, dropped off earlier by one of the more legal-savvy employees. Like any other Aperture contract, it had warning images, disclaimers, and unreadable fine print. It threw Caroline off. She expected naming a successor to a nearly bankrupt company would be easier. But then again this was Cave's contract-of course he would make it complex.
Pen in hand, she scoured the document for anything binding she might later regret, eventually finding it under a discreet subsection. It explicitly stated that in order to be the CEO of Aperture Laboratories, Caroline must also agree to participate in the Genetic Lifeform and Disk Operating System development project.
She clicked her pen, staring up at the man and shaking her head.
"I know I'm not going to make it out of this. But I've got to know that you're going to be okay. It's the last wish of a dying man," Cave said, and Caroline's heart ached.
He was so weak. So sick. So delusional. She couldn't refuse that, when the peace of knowing might make these final days of his easier. She couldn't take that chance and refuse-not if it sent his health even farther down into the pit.
She caved, dragging back the paper and swooshing her name across the paper.
A week later, Cave Johnson died.
In the days following, when everyone left her alone in her office-to give her space, to let her mourn-she picked up her phone and called back Black Mesa. Cave would have wanted this. He would've wanted science to continue no matter the cost, even IF it involved requesting help from their hated rival.
Of course, Caroline worked out the details. She'd be given full and uncensored knowledge of any spies sent over from there. She would assign them jobs, spreading them throughout the facility but keeping a close eye on them all. And above all else, the quantum tunneling device remained Aperture's secret. In fact, she arranged it so that if any Black Mesa ever attempted to steal that technology, she had every right to do whatever she wished with them. Torture, testing, research—anything. Their lives would be in her hands.
The opposite held true for Aperture employees within Black Mesa—but Caroline wouldn't have to worry about that. Her company would never stoop to that level, and even if they did, it would only be one or two. Nothing like the hordes they would surely send in.
Yes, it was strictly against Mr. Johnson's last wishes, but company must stay alive. He was dead. She was CEO. And she still had science to do.
The lights never shut off.
Hours passed. The days shifted into nights. But the lights never flickered. Bright and unending, they offered no clues as to how much time had passed. Chell guessed it had been at least a few days. Food appeared every so often, usually whenever she dozed off.
She refused to use the pod to sleep. Opaque outer shells. Tanks attached to the back. Ever since she'd woken up in one, every part of the sleeping pods terrified her. They couldmake time pass faster, but part of her worried that if she fell asleep in one again, she wouldn't be able to snap out it for a very long time.
But the boredom was beginning to get to her.
A few times a day, Caroline visited. Sometimes she spoke directly from her office, but other times—in the evenings, when she could roam without interruption-she sat in the observation room and spoke through a different microphone.
Chell laid on the cool ground, tracing patterns in the cracks in the tiles. Her hair spread around her like an open fan.
A small pop from the speakers. An instant anger singed through her, churning her stomach and covering up the smallest twinge of relief. As angry as the lady made her, she almost didn't mind the company. Almost anything was better than being alone.
"I wanted to thank you, by the way," said Caroline, leaning forward in her desk chair. "Couldn't have done it without you—I've been waiting for an excuse to catch your parents for years. But something's not right."
Chell continued scratching at the floor, attempting to look disinterested.
"I know every Black Mesa employee that works here. And I know that none of them in their right mind would ever consider going near the ASHPD. At least not any that valued their life. So why did you?"
The girl remained silent, still curled on the floor. Though tile was less comfortable than the pod, here she could retain a sense of control. Here, she dictated when she fell asleep and when she stayed awake. The few times she couldn't bring herself to stay alert, she'd
let herself fall into a sleep for as short of a time as she could. With Caroline still on edge, she didn't dare to sleep longer.
But judging by Caroline's horrible mood and horrible attitude, the transfer of ASHPD plans to Black Mesa must have been at least partially successful. She'd gotten the files out—this might actually work. Her mom might get her dream job. She'd finally realize that her daughter was worth something—Chell might finally get to go home.
"You took such a big chance. So why did you call—" Chell heard the sound of a flipped page as Caroline scrambled for a name."—Judith Mossman? Why not the Black Mesa Research Facility?"
"She's my mother," she said. "She doesn't work for them, but she will now." A hint of a smile crept onto her face
"Hold on," Caroline said, realization dawning on her. She shifted in her perch—she should've seen this before. "Isee what's happening here. You thought this would actually work, didn't you?"
Chell looked up, neck twisting to get a better look.
"Hate to break this to you, but adoption's a permanent thing. She removedherself from your life," she said with an almost smile. "You though she'd take you back. Give you a second chance. And you did something no one else was stupid enough to try."
Chell pressed her palms against the floor and pushed herself upright. Her arms trembled, and her head spun as she propped herself against a wall. Though still trapped within a glass box, She claimed one small triumph—she'd gotten those plans to her mother. The adoption wasn't as permanent as Caroline had made it sound—it was all just arouse less suspicion, and to legally confirm her as the Naransky's daughter. All of it was to avoid something just like this from happening—but even now, she might get to see her mother again.
"And I thought you'd like to know," said Caroline. "The call I intercepted was placed directly to the Black Mesa Research Facility."
Chell inhaled sharply, bright white dotting her vision. No. She hugged her knees tighter, eyes closing. She was wrong—she had to be. "But they called her," she said. "I dialed her myself."
"They hung up as soon as you left the room," she said, voice calm and cheerful. "Your mother didn't answer," she said, almost thoughtful. "But tell me—did your 'parents' ever show interest in the ASHPD before you befriended Mr. Rattmann?" She paused to gauge the girl's reaction. So naïve. So clueless. She couldn't see what was written so plainly in the way her 'parents' had acted.
Chell's eyes drifted upward as she remembered back. "I don't think so," she said.
"Did you ever stop to consider that helping your mother wasn't the goal of Jerry and Emily at all? Going near the ASHPD is completely against the deal, after all."
Chell clenched a hand. She knew that she and her parents were spies. Their entire goal was to steal things. And in an information-heavy setting like Aperture, Caroline couldn't expect to maintain total control. She couldn't regulate what the spies stole, and what they left alone—that wasn't how it worked.
"You're not getting it," she said, placing a hand on the glass. "Here, since you can't get it through your thick skull, I'll spell it out for you: theyused you as their scapegoat."
She met the woman's eyes for a brief moment, confusion evident in her look.
"Oh," Caroline said, corners of her mouth upturning. "They didn't tell you, did they? Well, it's a well-known, but hushed fact amongst Black Mesa 'spies,'" she said, air quoting the last word. "They can sneak around and 'steal' Aperture technology—which I suppose isn't thievery at all, to be honest, when they're paying us for it—but the tunneling equipment is off limits," she said. "That was the only thing I'd agree to. As long as Black Mesa's presence and purpose remained secret from my employees, and as long as they gave me full reign over those who crossed the line and tried to steal Portal technology anyways, I let them stay. But they didn't tell you that, did they?"
Chell fell silent, absorbing what she'd just learned. The two companies—they'd been partnered all along. Her and her mother had both been pulled into this grand idea, this grand scheme that none of them could actually pull off. She wasn't even a real spy—and now, she was in real danger. According to Caroline, now Aperture had every right to claim her life for science. No wonder they hadn't stopped Chell from leaving to grab her jacket. With her out of the picture, they could leave her to take the fall. They could grab the gun and make a run for it—Chell would be enough of a distraction, considering it was her who was friends with Doug in the first place, and she'd been the one to break into his office.
And by then, the damage had already been done. The first call—even unanswered—was enough to link Chell to her mother, and by extension, Black Mesa. And that's all someone like Caroline needed to grab them, especially when she was the daughter of two known spies.
"You've got to admit, it was pretty well-played. Even I didn't see it coming."
"You got them, right?" Chell said—though her parents could've taken the gun and run for it, the fact that Chell was still alive—and Caroline even speaking to her—was enough to reassure her that they'd hadn't been able to pull it off.
"Sure did."
She knew it—they hadn't pulled it off. Calling directly to Black Mesa had been the nail in that coffin. They'd blown it. Though her breath shook and her eyes watering, the most brief of smiles crossed Chell's face. Caroline saw it, too, and she felt herself smile. Twisted, this girl was—though not so different than herself.
But then the full scope of everything she'd done, everything the adults had done came rushing back. Things could've been worse—but they were in enough trouble already.
"If you think that company's going to save you, forget it. You're as good as dead to them—they won't even notice you're gone. Even your scientist friend here hasn't noticed, but I'm not surprised. He didn't even know you were stealing from him."
No. She was wrong. Doug would realize something was wrong—she hadn't given any explanation for leaving. This facility was huge, and even Chell didn't know where she was. Doug would come looking for her. He'd find her.
Wouldn't he?
"You might as well accept it. You're not leaving this room—this facility—until I say so. And you're going to be here for a long time."
She trembled, eyes watering. She blinked once, twice, biting her lip and glancing away. The lady was right—it had been days already. Doug had forgotten her. Her mom gave her up. Her 'parents' threw her to the wolves. She was a complete and utter failure to everyone she loved—she wasn't worth saving. No one would be rescuing her.
The lady was right. She couldn't depend on anyone else. If she wanted out of here, she'd have to save herself. Chell sniffed, face hardening as she twisting once again to stare at Caroline.
"Oh, don't give me that," she said. "I don't think you understand—when we were at our worst—over 70 million dollars in debt, CEO dying from moon poisoning, I saved this company, because I knew that science must continue despite the costs. All of this—it's going to waste," she said, gesturing past the chamber walls. "My company. My facility. And all because of you. And you're not even sorry."
The speaker fell silent.
"Do you even know what you've done?" Caroline said, then pushed away from the microphone. But there was nothing she could do now—what the girl had done was already done. No undoing it. No chance at getting Black Mesa to hand back their partial plans.
A coffee stain on the desk caught her eye, and Caroline traced the half-circle with her pinkie nail. Memories of Cave came flooding back—of his face turning red as he insisted again and again that Caroline not sign over Aperture to Black Mesa. He crumpled up every paper she handed him, balling it up and chucking it into the trash. Hours later she fished them out, smoothing them so she could try again later.
And Caroline still ignored him and sold the company regardless. Science must continue. That's what she had told herself for years.
But this—was it even science?
She thought back to Cave Johnson, about what he might have done—but she couldn't compare herself to him. Leaps and bounds were made in portal technology thanks to him, even if the exposure to the conversion gel killed him. After his death they'd found a vaccine, and now it was a requirement for all new test subjects. He had—quite literally—given his life to science.
And Caroline was still alive.
She knew this wasn't right—and yet, she couldn't bring herself to free the girl. Caroline had always claimed that, like Cave, all that she did was for the good of all the company. But this didn't feel right either.
She looked back through the thick window. The girl had shifted, turning her back to the window and pushing herself into a corner.
Caroline couldn't see the girl's face—but then again, she didn't need to. A flick of a switch, and video feed from one of the room's cameras would be instantly available. But she didn't need to. She moved closer to the glass, hand resting on it.
The girl was shaking, shoulders moving up and down. In the brief moment Caroline had looked away, Chell had stated crying. Sobbing. She curled up into herself, attempting to muffle the noise with the crook of her arm. But her attempts to muffle, to hide the noise only amplified it.
A wicked sort of delight coursed through Caroline as the choked sound drifted through her speakers. She pivoted, heading back to her microphone. She couldn't miss an opportunity like this—especially when the girl had been so unresponsive in the days before—Caroline must've struck a nerve.
Her finger lingered over the microphone's button for a long moment. She paused, then drew back her hand. She couldn't do it—she couldn't press the button. This girl had been strong for so long, and Caroline had been impressed by it. But now, after hearing so much—she was scared. Hopeless and lonely and terrified. And she had a golden opportunity here. She could descend on the girl and make her cry harder— and on any other day, she would have done it in a heartbeat.
But she could bring herself to do it.
And yet, she couldn't bring herself to do it. She glanced away, eyes falling on a radio. It sat on the corner of her desk, the sheen surface reflecting back the bright lights. Caroline reached for the room's phone and dialed her assistant—one of the few that knew about Chell's situation.
"Tomorrow, when the girl's food is delivered, throw in a radio. One that works. Don't ask why—just do it."
Releasing the girl, Chell, was out of the question. But maybe, just maybe, there was something Caroline could do to make the passage of time just a bit more bearable.
