Chapter 33
The Ballroom
Her sleep was fitful and short, with nightmares flashing in and out. In between the dreams, she thought about contacting CarolineDOS, but she had made things clear. Chell was supposed to get herself into the middle of the event, and then wait. She would know what to do when the time came. Supposedly. Chell repressed the urge to ask her just how she was supposed to get herself to the main festivities of Bring Your Daughter to Work Day in the first place.
In the morning, she dressed herself the best she could manage, hiding her Advanced Knee Replacements with baggy pant legs. She even took the time to shower, dry her hair, and make herself look presentable. Just like any other guest at Bring Your Daughter to Work Day.
Chell moved to the door. To her delight, the door was still open. Just like she'd left it last night. She pushed it open and then closed it solidly behind her. She didn't need anything from that room anymore. In fact, she wasn't planning on ever setting foot in it again.
A surge of apprehension and cautious optimism crossed her mind. She was never going back in that room. Chell took a steadying breath. One step at a time. Then she could celebrate getting out of Aperture.
She shook her head, refocusing. The old room didn't matter—she had to figure out where she was supposed to be going. There had to be signs that could lead her to the events of the day, or someone around to direct her to the day's activities.
The extended relaxation wing was deserted. Chell walked her way through it, following the path
After exiting the extended relaxation wing, the walls moved closer together and Chell felt once more as if she was inside any other building on the surface. If she just ignored the lack of windows it almost felt the same. She wandered through identical deserted hallways until she found what she had been looking for—an elevator without a keycard lock.
She pushed the button with the upward pointing triangle. Up. She wanted to go up. At Aperture, all of the new things were built upon the ashes of the old.
When the elevator opened, it was not empty. A well-dressed man in a suit—Aperture logo emblazoned on it—stood near all of the buttons.
"Can I help you?" he started, regarding the woman in front of him. "You look a little lost."
Chell did her best smile. "Actually, I think I am."
"Nothing to worry about," the elevator attendant said. "It's a huge place. Easy to get turned around, especially for newcomers."
Chell stepped into the elevator. Part of her wanted to come up with an elaborate story to explain herself, like that she'd decided to take the stairs and underestimated just how many flights of stairs there really were. At the same time, the more she scrambled to explain herself, the more suspicious she would look.
"You know, they're starting up tours in a bit," said the elevator attendant. Chell checked his nametag—Davis. He didn't explicitly say he thought Chell had been snooping around where she shouldn't have been, but the looks he gave her suggested it.
"Oh?" said Chell. "I'll have to go to that." More and more had been added during her long sleep, and the more she knew about this place, the better chance she had of getting out. And she was going to do that today. She knew she was.
Davis pushed a floor number and the elevator lurched downward.
Wait, down?
"Are you okay?" the elevator attendant asked. "You look pale."
Chell nodded, doing her best job she could to find her words. "It sure is a long ride," she said uneasily. Chell tried not to panic as the elevator moved down, farther down than she had ever expected. Maybe this man knew who she was. Maybe he'd been told to look out for her, and now he was going to just leave her in Old Aperture, this time for good.
The elevator attendant nodded. "They decided to spruce up the old Grand Ballroom for today—and of course it's completely underneath the modern facility."
"Why?"
"It's a space that they built—originally at the 'top' of their facility so that guests wouldn't have to ride all the way down to the bottom. It's a beautiful space, really. It's meant to awe the public."
Chell gave her best grimace disguised as a smile. Though she was glad to be on her way to the main event, she hadn't been prepared to have to go further down into Aperture. Someone could have warned her about that part, at least.
"Not that I'll be seeing much of it today—my job today is just to make sure that ladies like you end up right where they are supposed to be," said Davis. He gave Chell a knowing look.
The elevator slowed to a stop, and the door opened up with a ding. Chell thanked the elevator attendant and stepped out into the tip of the iceberg of Old Aperture.
A propped up sign decorated with balloons of blue and silver and gold caught her attention.
GRAND BALLROOM
-—
That seemed easy enough. Chell followed sign after sign, winding her way deeper into Old Aperture.
The atmosphere of the hallways changed. Instead of being stiff and clinical, this hallway was dug out of the natural rock of the mine itself. The lighting was subtle, a flash of modern against the natural stone. Eventually, though, she found her way to a large set of double doors with a metal plaque mounted above.
GRAND BALLROOM
West Entrance
Faint music and the echoing crash of voices drifted from beneath the door. Chell took a breath, then she pushed open the doors and stepped into the Grand Ballroom.
Chell didn't feel like she was in Aperture anymore.
Though she had seen sights of vastness and structures with their own sort of industrial beauty, nothing could have prepared her for the interior of this room. The walls looked as if they had been carved out of the stone itself. Wooden flooring coated the floor, recently polished and reflecting back light. Dangling chandeliers were strung high above.
The door closed on its own behind her. Chell took in a few steps, awestruck. The cavern extended upward at least a few stories, enough to make all of their voices drift up and into the stones of the old salt mine. Glass centerpieces—lamps, on closer inspection—weighed down embroidered tablecloths. Despite the fact that this area could easily host a few thousand people, the room gave off an intimate feeling.
It was overwhelming in a way that Chell had not been prepared for.
She moved her gaze back down and began to take in the rest of the space . People moved about, chatting, laughing, and enjoying the atmosphere. Longer serving tables had been set up off to the sides. Bottles of cold, Aperture-branded bottled water glistened in the coolers.
In one area, she saw sets of plain fold-up tables and chairs. A large paper banner hung over the tables.
Bring Your Daughter To Work Day
Children's Center
"Would you like a nametag, ma'am?" an employee asked, offering her a sticker and a permanent marker. Chell smiled and gratefully accepted, moving to a nearby table.
Chell sucked in a breath, and then wrote her name in cursive. That's what adults did, right? She bit her lip, and then handed back the pen to the nametag man.
What drew her attention next was an area clearly marked off for kids. An excess of balloons decorated the area, and Chell was surprised to see both boys and girls at this event, especially after having seen it marketed as Bring Your Daughter To Work Day.
She moved to the kids section, just to see what was happening over there. A man—already tired looking, and the day had hardly started yet—perked up when she approached.
"Are you here to pick up your child?" he said. Chell didn't quite see any sort of barrier or method of keeping these kids in one area. They could have at least tried to section it off.
Chell shook her head. "Just looking," she said. "What activities are planned for today?"
"Well, I am glad you asked," said the tired-looking man. "Right now we're working on a coloring activity—" he glanced at his watch. "Actually, it's about time for the kids to go tour the facility with their parents."
There were two other people stationed at a nearby booth. A stack of paper and a bowl of candy adorned the table.
She didn't say anything to the already-bored looking attendants. Instead, she gave them a look and reached for a paper, just curious to see what they said on them. She expected some sort of coloring page, and in a way that was what it was. She looked at it and frowned. There were still words on the page—just in the background, with the bold outlines of science-based coloring book images photocopied over them. Perhaps they were just trying to be environmentally-conscious and reuse their leftover papers for something fun?
Chell gave a small snort despite herself, which caught the attention of the table staff.
One of them rose from the chair and snatched the paper from her hands. It ripped audibly.
"Sorry ma'am," one of them said hastily. "These are for kids only."
Chell frowned, and then tried to smooth her expression. "Oh, sorry," she said. "I see." As she looked at them, she took a glance at their nametags, pinned to their chests. They looked official enough—they must have to deal with the public often. The title on the nametag caught her eye.
Test Associate.
"Test associate?" Chell said. "Bet this is a big change from what you guys normally do."
One of them laughed awkwardly, trying to make the most of the situation
"Actually, it's not that different," said one.
"These kids are much more well-behaved than our usual crowd."
"Probably smarter, too," said the first. "Actually we had—well, our department—was asked to create and plan out activities for the kids today. Designing little games to play isn't so much different than designing a test chamber."
"How so?"
"You give them an objective, and the tools they need to achieve it, and then you sit back and watch."
Chell looked over at the mess of kids in the area. "What about the different age groups?" she said. A twelve-year-old and a seven-year-old had very different ideas of what made up a fun experience.
"Oh, we've taken that into consideration. We've never really been able to get much data from these age groups before—we've been looking forward to assessing their abilities."
"Assessing their abilities?"
"Don't worry. Child labor laws prevent us—along with a lot of other legal protections—from enrolling minors into any of our research initiatives."
"Today's just all for fun."
"Yeah. For fun."
"So what are you going to do with the results?"
The two testing associates looked back and forth.
"Study it. Keep it on file," said the other. "Parents signed permission for us to keep any data collected from their kids as long as we don't publish it anywhere."
"It's great because we're really not allowed by the government to get this kind of information any other way."
Before she could finish that conversation, though, a voice over the speakers set up inside the room interrupted her.
"A reminder—the first tour groups will be going out in fifteen minutes. Please check your schedules, and if you're scheduled for the first round of tours, proceed to your tour group in the center of the room."
Chell panicked a little bit. She didn't have a schedule, or a tour group. She stood still for a moment, looking to see what everyone else was doing. People pulled out papers—some in folders that they carried around, others unfolding a paper folded in quarters that had been stuck into their pants pocket.
Around the ballroom's center, people in bright shirts held up signs. It reminded Chell of an airport. The signs were all square and had elements of the periodic table on them.
She took a look at the ones near her. Hydrogen, some element she didn't recognize, Carbon, Gold. Those at least she knew from her limited knowledge of science. Some people began separating out, while others remained sitting at their tables. There must be another event that these people were scheduled for, while they went on the facility tours.
A well-dressed and seemingly confident man walked by her. Without looking too obvious, Chell moved and followed him as he weaved past a few groups. Chell bumped into a couple of people and muttered apologies, doing her best to keep up. Eventually she ended up at the group labeled Ag. She ran through the number of periodic table elements that she knew, but she couldn't remember this one. Argon? Oh well. She'd figure out out.
Chell straightened her posture and took a look at the tour guide. She looked younger than the people she normally saw here at Aperture. Definitely shorter, though dressed professionally. Glasses, brown hair, and young looking. Probably some sort of Aperture intern. She couldn't imagine getting a job as an intern for an applied science company and then be relegated to tour guide. Well, hopefully she got a chance to do some real science at other times.
It took another few minutes before the movement of the school of people slowed down as they all reached their destinations. The tour guide took a moment to finish gathering her things, taking a final look at a paper tucked into a folder. She smiled, setting down her sign on the table, pulling out a chair, and then climbed on top of it.
"Hello everyone," she said. Chell looked up and nodded, making some eye contact but not too much. "I'm Aspen, and I'm going to be your tour guide for today. I'm gonna ask that you all double check your itinerary for the day to make sure that you're assigned to Group AG—Group Silver—and that you're assigned to the morning tour and not the afternoon tour. I know you're all excited to see the facility, but please stick to your assigned tour groups and assigned tour times. That way we can make sure that everyone gets their turn."
Someone in the group lifted a finger to catch the attention of the tour guide. The intern hesitated in her rehearsed speech and then nodded, beckoning this other person to speak.
"Yeah, how long is this going to take?" he asked.
"It shouldn't take more than ninety minutes," said Aspen. "And a decent amount of that is walking time, so be sure to double check that your shoes are tied tight. No time to waste."
A few people leaned down to tie their shoes. Chell joined them, sticking a few fingers underneath the laces and tugging to make sure her double knots held.
The tour guide watched as a few other groups filtered out the exit. She then stepped down from the chair and picked up her sign again, beginning to lead on the group. "And if you guys will follow me, we're going to slip into a side room and go over some ground rules before we get started."
They followed her to one of the other side-doors to the ballroom—one of the ones not marked as an exit, but entered into a boardroom-sized room.
"There we go," she said, closing the door most of the way behind them. The clamor of the ballroom faded, now just ambient noise that sounded more like it was, well, in another room. "Now you guys can hear me a little better.
"Some quick rules. Safety is a huge concern for Aperture Science. I'm going to be honest with you here. This is not a safe place. To make sure that no one gets seriously hurt, you MUST stay with the group at all times. I'll be stopping to take a headcount before and after every stop on the tour. If you go somewhere, I'll know about it.
"And speaking of keeping track of you, another big thing for today—the most helpful tool that you have at your disposal—is this band here on your wrist." She pulled down her jacket sleeve and revealed the sheen of a thin plastic wristband. "This is going to be your key in and out of this place. Do NOT lose it.
"Speaking of that, here's a quick thing on how the wristbands work. These are what open and close doors for you. They will only work for today and today only. These aren't free passes to the facility, either. We take security very seriously here. If you use your wristband on a door and it blinks red, you're not supposed to go there. We'll also have signs up to direct you to the correct doors. As long as you have your wristband with you, even if you get separated you'll be able to make your way back. We don't want anyone getting lost in here."
The tour guide took another look at the group of people, seemingly satisfied. "Now, we're not going to be scanning every individual wristband on our way in and out of every room while we're on the tour. But afterward, you will need your wristband to exit the ballroom and to enter any other designated room." She paused. "Are we ready?"
Chell nodded, feeling her heartbeat rise. She didn't have one of the wristbands. She had no idea that things were going to be this strict for getting around Aperture—sure, certain doors had been locked to her before, but she'd never had any trouble leaving a room without a wristband—besides, well, her own room.
She was going to need a wristband.
"For any kids tagging along with their parents on this tour, I have one little bit of advice: don't touch anything. Though Aperture Science is a very "hands on" laboratory, that doesn't mean you can touch. There will be activities later in the day that are safe. Parents, please keep an eye on your kids. You're responsible for their safety."
The tour guide turned to the kids of the group. "So, what are you guys hoping to see today?"
"Test tubes!"
"Scientists!"
"A dead body!"
Aspen gave a nervous laugh. "Well, hopefully not anything quite that dark," she said.
"Aw." The kid who said that looked forlorn.
"Though we're going to get to go by the testing sector, there won't be any live testing demonstrations until later on in the day."
Chell felt a bit of apprehension—what would it be like to view the testing process from the outside looking in? She wasn't sure if she'd be able to handle it.
"Don't worry, though—there will be plenty of experiments for you kids to participate in today. In fact, there's some at our next stop."
They began to walk at a clipped pace, following the lines on the walls that lead both to the Employee Daycare Center and the Neurotoxin Generator. "For those of you trying to balance work life with spending time with kids, this area we're coming up on is one of the best perks of working at Aperture Science. This is the Employee Daycare Center." She kept her words clipped and cheery, mentally reading off of the documents that she'd been given to prepare for this day. Aspen moved them into the main area. The projector was down, and seats were set up. An educational video was on a loop.
"We also offer a selection of educational videos that we're developing as our own line of child education resources. It's never too early to start learning about science!" The volume of the video was muted. Chell had already seen this one on her own television.
"On-site childcare is actually one of the perks of working for Aperture. It's available at no additional cost to families—we just ask that the employee join the rotating volunteer force to help with learning enrichment."
They moved through the remainder of the room. A few kids were already sitting in groups, with a few smiling adults nearby. One of the adults held what looked like a plastic test-tube, while another was working on setting up a station of play dress-up equipment for children to play with. Little lab coats, safety goggles, a tiny hazmat suit, plastic versions of scientific instruments. In another corner, an adult sat by a microscope, still preparing a few slides for later.
They moved out to the hallway. Today it was well-lit and well-swept, with an updated row of science fair experiments. There were also a few other tables set up as well, ready to receive more.
"If any of you with children signed up early enough, then you'll know that today we're having a Science Fair! We're going to ask that all entries be set up here before lunch so that the judges will have enough time to go over them. It'll also be necessary for the kids involved to come back after lunch so that they can present their findings to the judges, who can then decide upon the winners. Winners will be announced at the end of the day."
The tour guide swept her gaze across her small crowd, looking for the kids. "Did any of you make a project for the science fair?"
A young girl with hair pulled back tightly into a ponytail raised her hand energetically. "I made a baking soda volcano!"
The man behind her, clearly her father, made a slight grimace.
"Well, I can't wait to see it," the tour guide said with false sincerity. "We'll be bringing up the winners to the Ballroom at the end of the day so that you can show off your research to everyone. Isn't that exciting?"
The children nodded. The tour guide pointed at a small set of plastic trophies with little plaques attached. "And if you win, you get to take home a trophy."
This really seemed to get the attention of the children. Forget the respect of the larger scientific community and the admiration of their peers—they wanted that trophy.
There was a bit of murmuring among the group as parents began to discuss.
"You know, Monica's been so excited for this," said one woman. She didn't appear to have brought her child with her for the tour. "It's all she's been talking about for the past two weeks."
"Yeah, Emily's been the same way. Kept asking me for ideas. I told her that she's asking the wrong person—Aperture doesn't pay me to do science, though she seems to think that," said another man. He was dressed in more casual-looking clothes— but most likely one of the many support staff necessary to keep the facility running. "What am I supposed to tell her, that Dad doesn't actually get to do the exciting stuff that she thinks I get to do? I'm in the legal department. There's nothing exciting about the legal department."
Another woman in the group laughed. "Tell me about it," she said. "I'm an electrician. Do you know how much of a nightmare this place is to keep online? It's hard enough to get a stationary building to stay wired, much less a place like here with so many moving parts."
"At least you can do something with electricity for a science fair," said the man. "Potato batteries and all that," he said. "Those light up. You can't make a stack of papers light up, unless they're being lit on fire."
"Maybe that's what you should've had Emily do. A new way of secure file disposal. Everything's going to go digital now, right? They're gonna have to get rid of all of this paperwork somehow."
The tour guide didn't mind that the group had paused to take time to connect with one another. These were all people that wouldn't necessarily interact on a day to day basis with Aperture, yet a lot of the employees found that they either knew one another, or at least had heard of them or had heard of someone they worked with. It was almost like its own small town in a way. Not that everyone knew one another's business, but an employee could easily dig up information on another employee if they asked around enough.
Eventually they transitioned out of the Employee Daycare Center and into their tour of the rest of Aperture Science.
"We don't have the time today to go back through the older sections of the facility, but there's still enough time to give you a quick history of Aperture Science as we walk.
"In 1943, Cave Johnson was a traveling salesman of shower curtains. He named his company Aperture Fixtures. As this became profitable, Mr. Johnson began to look for more and more ways to put his product ahead of the competition. One thing that no one on the market had ever seen before was a shower curtain that would let a person simply walk through it.
"Mr. Johnson wanted to make this dream a reality—but he knew he didn't have the science chops alone to make it happen.
"Using his profits, Mr. Johnson struck a deal with a local realtor to purchase a defunct salt mine, promising to bring jobs and industry to the area. He was going to found an applied science company—just what he needed to bring his shower curtains to the next level.
"In order to sound more scientific, Mr. Johnson named his new enterprise Aperture Science Innovators, and began work right away. The technology that they began to uncover lead to the foundations of Aperture's pride and joy—the portal device.
"To keep up the funding for this project—since it was largely still dangerous and full of errors—Aperture continued manufacturing shower curtains and selling them to the public. A few times, they even struck a deal with the government. The money from this allowed Aperture to expand beyond shower curtains and farther into the world of consumer products.
"This is actually something that Aperture still does today," said the tour guide. "In fact, we're coming up to the consumer product research and development section of the facility. As much as we love to dive into the theoretical aspects of science, plain theory doesn't pay the bills. It's a bit like how technology originally developed for the Space Race ended up turning up in consumer products down the line." She paused, bringing them to the first room. A wide panel of reinforced glass cut between the group and what looked to be set up like a nursery. The lighting was dimmed, with a fake window and fake night scene plastered up against one window. A tiny mobile hung above an industrial-looking crib, motionless. The tiniest test dummy imaginable was tucked into the blankets.
"For instance, these turrets here were originally developed as a weapon for the military," she said. "They stand sentry, and will shoot any hostile target that comes into its range of vision. Since that isn't something that the general public needs, we're working on adapting it to become a home-security system."
The turret sat in the corner, guns drawn and eye gently glowing. With a press of a button, the tour guide began the sample test. One of the platforms on the floor rose up to reveal another, human-shaped dummy. Someone had drawn red angry eyebrows upon this one, as to indicate to the audience that this was the bad guy.
"Mommy, what's it going to do?" asked one girl, looking from the turret to the dummy.
"Shh, just watch," she said. "We're going to see how this robot keeps the baby safe."
The fake intruder had been lifted up next to the baby's crib on the far side of the room, ready to steal the baby.
The turret's body swung toward the intruder. A single strand of red light extended out from the robot to the pretend thief. With an explosion of lights and sound, the turret ripped through the fabric of the dummy.
As it fell over and stopped moving, the turret went back into sleep mode. After the initial confusion had passed, they took a closer look. The little mattress, blankets, and baby dummy had been obliterated. Little strands of cotton scattered across the room as if a cat had just caught a bird. The mobile creaked, slowly unwinding itself, beginning to still, and then twisting in the other direction to spin itself back up again.
The tour guide cleared her throat, then glanced back at her notes. "We're still working on crib detection." She gave a nervous laugh. "But that's why we're still testing it, and with just dummies! Not everything works right on the first try. But when this finally comes out to market, you guys are going to be able to say that you saw this before the public even knew about it. Isn't that amazing? No need to worry about the safety of your baby anymore. It's all of the convenience of a guard dog, except you don't have to train and feed a robot. They just do exactly what we tell them to," she said.
After that, they decided to go on and continue with the tour. "And now," the tour guide said, "we're getting more toward the modern era of Aperture Science. We are even more of a dedicated science company than we used to be, and that's partially due to a decline that Aperture went through in the 80s and early 90s," she said. "When the founder and CEO of Aperture Science became ill due to an accident with an unsafe substance, the entire company suffered. People were leaving the company left and right, and massive debt and budget problems almost shut down Aperture for good. After Mr. Johnson's death and Caroline's takeover as acting CEO, it took her a while to build back up Aperture. She took the company into another direction—she had to—and focused more on research and development and regaining government contracts on high-tech, futuristic projects like the Aperture Science Handheld Portal Device. It's actually thanks to Caroline's re-imaging of the company that we're even having this event today," she said. "This event itself—Bring Your Daughter to Work Day—was partially inspired by some of Caroline's last actions as CEO of Aperture. She wanted to increase education opportunities for girls, and to inspire their minds, increase their self-esteem, and encourage them to keep asking questions, as well as encourage them to pursue STEM fields.
"A self-esteem fund for girls was mentioned and founded by her shortly before her promotion. We weren't sure what to use it for at first, but as events like these have been gaining traction all over the country, we decided that we should do one as well. It only makes sense, since today's big event is all about Caroline's last sacrifice that launched us into the future.
"Did you ever meet her?" said Chell. The tour guide had not fully noticed this woman before, though now thinking about it, she knew that she had been there toward the beginning. She just hadn't been interacting much with the other people.
"No, of course not," she said. "I was just hired as an intern. But there's a lot of people around here who used to work with her."
Next, they walked through a place that overlooked some of the testing areas. "Testing was one of the ways that Aperture tried to focus in on itself during these turbulent years," she said. "Aperture worked on developing a clean and efficient model for subject and product testing, and we'll be showing it off later today. This isn't something normally that we show off to people—unless you're volunteering to be a test subject—so I wouldn't want to miss it. For now though, we've got to get back for Greg's speech."
As the tour guide began to finish this, though, the group began to make their way back to the Ballroom for lunch and more importantly, the keynote speech from Aperture's CEO. She swiped her card and allowed everyone back in, and then thanked them for participating in this enrichment center activity.
GENETIC LIFEFORM AND DISK OPERATING SYSTEM SECURITY ARCHIVES
BRING YOUR DAUGHTER TO WORK DAY
GRAND BALLROOM — 12:29 PM
KEYNOTE PRESENTATION
BEGIN AUDIO LOG
GREG:
Thank you, thank you. I want to—I want thank you all for coming here today. It's been a while since we had our doors open to the public.
As all of you know, Aperture has been going through a rough patch for the past few decades. But we've been working extremely hard to pick ourselves back up and charge ahead into the future.
Many of you know that I reluctantly took up the reins as chief executive officer at this company. Though I assisted Caroline for many years following the death of Cave Johnson, I never expected to be standing here today in front of you.
The project that we will show you today was closely monitored by Caroline herself up until her death. Despite all of the difficulties and turnover over the years, she remained steadfast in her vision to turn this project into reality.
I'm excited to say that I'm one of those lucky few who has been involved with this project since the beginning.
When things get difficult and cuts have to be made, it can be easy to take a look at long-term projects such as this one and cut them because they don't have a short-term reward in sight.
But there are some times when one has to stick to their gut—and make sure that no matter what, no one gets between them and their dream. There are some things, ladies and gentlemen, that are simply bigger than us all. Things that we, as humans, cannot fully comprehend. This research and development is the result of a decades-long dream that would not die.
There's an old quote from the science community. It goes like this: "If I have seen further than others, it is by standing upon the shoulders of giants." Some of you may know this man—Sir Isaac Newton.
Today owe all that we have to Caroline, but more importantly to Aperture's founder, Mr. Cave his dedication to science, we wouldn't be standing here today.
One of the most important lessons we've learned as a company is that science is not made in a vacuum. For our future, we need to spend more time working together and spend less time stepping backwards by hiding our results. We have to stop preventing the free exchange of ideas.
Our rivalry with Black May may be ingrained in history, but I am confident that our visiting colleagues from New Mexico will find today's live demonstration to be compelling. What we are working on today could truly revolutionize science.
We know that this has been something that we have kept many of you—staff, family, friends, Black Mesa—in the dark about.
At this point that we are finally able to introduce what could be our most successful and cutting-edge creation:
the Genetic Lifeform and Disk Operating System.
END AUDIO LOG
