Chapter 34
True AI
The groups moved from the Grand Ballroom to the testing observations decks fairly quickly. Luckily, the organizers of the event had left plenty of transition time—time for people to finish their lunches and to meet up with their designated tour groups. The elevators were crammed full like cattle cars, and the elevator operators knew exactly where to take them—back closer to the modern enrichment center.
If it had been possible for them to reach their infrastructure for the new facility far enough down to reach the Ballroom, they would have had it right next door. Unfortunately, Aperture took a bottom-up approach to building so it was impossible for them to work backwards and move a new test chamber back down to old Aperture. Out with the old, and in with the new. Or so Cave Johnson had said.
As Chell's group exited the elevator, they moved into an observation room hanging over a test chamber. The sight of it made Chell's stomach clench, and she played with the fringe of her shirt as she took it all in.
All around this test chamber were larger, rectangular observation rooms. Panes of clear glass made up segments of the test chamber's walls, extending up into two or three storeys in some areas to accommodate the number of people. Part of it felt like an omnidirectional Greek theater, with people viewing the test chamber from nearly every angle. Her eyes did an involuntary sweep of the chamber for any hazards. Nothing too scary. She saw at least one pit, but a slope to the side of it connected it back to the main area. She saw what seemed to be a fairly straightforward puzzle.
Near the tallest part of the chamber, Greg stood at a podium with a microphone. "Welcome, everyone, to our demonstration of our exciting technology. The first capability that we plan on demonstrating today has to do with testing via human trials. Why use humans? Are we studying humans to research decision-making skills in the homo sapien?" he said, letting his words linger in the air for a moment. "Absolutely not. These human trials are essential to training this AI to do its job. Today we are going to be watching as this new robotic lab assistant demonstrates some of the key properties that make it useful to Aperture Laboratories and the rest of the scientific community. I'll give you a simple demonstration." Greg cleared his throat and pressed a button, then leaned further into the microphone. "Computer, move this test chamber and all observation chambers up one level."
There was a moment of silence where everyone held their breath, and then they all began to feel a deep, slow rumbling beneath their feet. "Moving test chamber AX-90 up one level," a computerized voice replied, prompting some impressed murmuring from the crowd. The room slowly crawled upward—it was no easy task to move several rooms at the same time—and then shuddered to a stop. Though no one could see outside of the chamber and into the rest of the facility, everyone felt the G-force of the floor pushing up on them, and it was clear to everyone in the room that they had moved upward. A few people swayed as the room stopped moving.
Greg took a look around the observation decks, smiling. "Aperture is a place that believes in modularity, so it is huge that the Genetic Lifeform and Disk Operating System can take on this task. Relocating chambers by hand with the architectural maps—constantly going out of date—proved costly and ineffective, with problems arising with modules not properly connecting to other modules, leaving the chamber disconnected from the power grid, or disconnected from the phone lines." He made motions with his hands, like blocks not fitting together.
"With the Genetic Lifeform and Disk Operating System, we can create a 3D map of the facility that's always up-to-date, and ensures that all connections are correct, and also that fewer of us get lost trying to make our way around the place." There was some stifled laughter from the room, and Greg smiled along with them. It was a rite of passage to get lost in Aperture.
"Another skill—this one is a bit more behind-the-scenes and a little harder to demonstrate, but we have figured out a way to do it nonetheless—is connecting relaxation vaults to test chambers. Computer, please hook up short-term relaxation pod 2875 to this chamber." There was a slight pause.
"Moving test subject 2875 to chamber AX-90. Wake up sequence has already been initiated."
Greg stepped to the side, clearing his throat and blinking."Yes," he said, "wouldn't want all of you waiting on someone to wake up from a nap." He paused. "This, and many other tasks, is just a part of what the Genetic Lifeform and Disk Operating System does for us around the facility. Like the best assistant you can imagine, but ten times better.
"Another time savings that we gain from this is not having to have Aperture personnel either escort the test subject from the chamber to the test. It also means that a test associate does not have to decide on a testing track for a subject right away. This new model saves on time and resources and allows for more efficient testing. But the most impressive skill that we have tried—and succeeded at—is the generation of test chambers.
"When we humans design test chambers, it takes a lot longer. Someone has to double check it—pre-test it, if you will, to make sure that there is a solution to the test, and that the solution isn't deadly beyond reason," he said, giving a slight laugh. "We have to make sure that these tests are challenging, but we have to make sure that the correct safety protocol is in place as well. A test chamber that consistently incapacitates test subjects is not a good test. Now, we don't have to wait anymore until a few people get injured during testing before we realize there is a design problem with the test chamber.
"With computer-aided design, we will not have to worry about unreasonable or unsolvable chambers. Based on real-time statistics from test subjects, we can adjust the difficulty level of the chamber, or simply ask the computer to do it for us.
"As far as manufacturing test chambers goes, we will give the computer an explicit set of parameters of the test chamber to design. A human is still needed to come up with the ideas and goals of the chamber, but then we can leave the computer the grunt work of the chamber design and manufacturing. It's like a handing a baker a list of ingredients that must be included in a recipe, but with the freedom to shape the end result into any type of dessert that the baker wishes.
"To train this artificial intelligence on the fine art of test chamber creation, we have to feed in the plans, blueprints, and walkthroughts along with testing footage. This will help the computer identify common human errors and then know to avoid those pitfalls in the future. It will see the patterns, and then apply those patterns to future test chambers.
"The chamber you see before you is just a placeholder. We intend to showcase this test creation system right in front of us. But it is impossible or you, our guest, to know the entire backlog of Aperture tests. We might have just pulled a test from the archives and many of you would not know any better. Our team has anticipated this, and so to prove to you that this test chamber is new and unique, we are introducing a new testing element today.
"For those of you who do not know, testing elements are the building blocks of the cognitive challenges that make up our tests.
"With a brand new testing element, there is no data or footage that can be pulled up by the Genetic Lifeform and Disk Operating System. There is no experience for this particular testing element that it can draw off of. Instead, the Genetic Lifeform and Disk Operating System will be using its previous knowledge of other tests and testing elements and we can watch as it "learns" how to integrate in this new system."
The audience watched as the panels beneath them shifted and adjusted, tesselating into a new chamber altogether. The new testing element—pneumatic tubes—descended from the ceiling and into the chamber.
"This, my friends, is more than just a machine shuffling around random elements in the hopes of creating a new combination. This is where were are seeing true innovation. This is true AI."
After the tour completed, Chell found herself back in the same place she had started: the Grand Ballroom. The tour had not taught her anything she didn't already know, for the most part.
"Thank you for joining us today," concluded her tour guide. She seemed somewhat exhausted after answering everyone's questions. "Please be sure to refer to the paper copy of the itinerary from the little welcome packet that you all received this morning." She pulled out a small piece of paper with a clear list of items on the hour and on the half hour. She then pulled out another sheet. "And when you're ready to leave, please don't forget to consult your map. Entrance and exit paths are clearly marked." She put away her papers. Chell looked around and realized that most of the people around her had a little packet of information. Some of the women who had brought purses had their papers curled up and stuffed inside. Others just rolled it up in their hands, and Chell even saw one man just stick the rolled-up packet into his back pocket.
"Remember, wristbands are required for facility access for our safety and yours. Please talk to a Bring Your Daughter to Work Day representative if you have any questions about this, or about the mandatory tracking policy you consented to when registering."
Chell tightened her fists for a brief moment and then let go. As the crowd dispersed, she made her way over to the tour guide.
"Excuse me," she said. "I think that my wristband slipped off. I can't find it anywhere." Chell showed her both of her empty wrists.
"Oh dear," Aspen, the tour guide. She then started toward the help desk type area in the ballroom. After a moment, she looked back, saw Chell staring, and then motioned for her to follow.
"I was hoping one of you could give me a replacement," Chell tried, but the tour guide was already in conversation with the help desk person who appeared to be balancing his conversation with a phone call as well.
"Oh no, we don't carry any extras down here," said Aspen. "You'll have to get a replacement from the front desk. They can verify your registration and assign out a new wristband."
"But I can't get up there without a wristband," said Chell. "That's the problem."
"Of course. We're going to call the front desk for you, and they'll send a runner down with your new wristband."
"That sounds like a lot of trouble—-"
"Oh it's not at all, don't worry. We had to replace a kid's band earlier today. Colored all over it."
"I actually think that I'll be fine, I'll just look for it in here again."
"Nonsense. Todd here can get you a new one in just a minute. Isn't that right, Todd?"
Todd gave a slight smile and a wave of his hand, still on the phone.
"Now I just need to verify your identity with some sort of photo ID or valid paper ID, just to make sure it matches up with what we have up at registration."
Chell tried not to panic, patting at her pants pockets and then grimacing. "You know what," she said. "I think I left it in my bag. Put it back in my car after I finished registering."
The tour guide sighed in mock sympathy. "Oh, I understand. Who want to lug around one of those things all day? Not me."
"Really, I think I'll be fine."
"Nonsense, Todd has already dialed registration. Let's see if we can do this another way."
"I really didn't think I'd need my ID down here—I wasn't planning on losing my wristband."
"What category of visitor are you today?" said Todd in a matter-of-fact way.
"Category?"
"Are you an employee? Family of employee? Press? Scientific professional? Child of an employee? It should have been on your paperwork."
"Oh of course," said Chell. "I'm, uh," she hesitated. "A daughter, I guess?" She winced at how uncertain it sounded.
"You do know that this event is intended for children, right?" said Todd with a raised eyebrow.
"Oh," Chell said. "My mistake. I was in a hurry when I applied."
"Just saying, you look a little old for this," said Todd. "Next time just mark the family category, all right? We use the numbers for the daughters category and give them to the press, apply for grants, etc. with that number. Wouldn't want it to get out that someone was inflating the numbers."
Chell nodded in embarrassment, momentarily forgetting her panic until Todd asked her the next question.
"I'm going to need your last name now," said Todd.
"Narasky," Chell barked out, before realizing she had no idea as to whether or not those two even worked for Aperture anymore or if they'd fled black to Black Mesa.
Todd repeated the last name into his phone, and then frowned. "There is no one registered today under that name."
Chell paused, and then pretended to brighten as if she had just remembered something. "You know what," she said. "Someone swiped me in this morning—it was really early in the morning, and the registration table was still getting all set up. They just told me to stop by later when they were all set up."
Todd looked at her, skeptical.
"Hey, does anyone up there remember telling a woman early today to come back later to complete her registration information?" Todd said into the phone.
A pause.
"They're checking."
Another pause.
"No one on staff remembers this happening. Ma'am, I think I'm going to have to ask security to come here and detain you until the conclusion of today's events."
"Wait," said Chell. "There has to be something that I can give you."
"Who is this person that swiped you in to the building?"
"Doug Rattmann," she lied. "You can look him up. He works here."
Another pause after Todd relayed the information. "You're in luck," Todd said. "Doug did talk to the desk this morning."
Chell gave an audible sigh of relief.
"Except he asked for his key to be retrieved."
"Oh," Chell said.
"Why don't we call security, call Doug, and see if we can get this all figured out, then?"
Chell sat in the conference room, staring across the room at the person in front of her.
"We checked with the front desk," said the security guard. "Doug Rattmann did in fact swipe in this morning, but he did that after having to call security to get his card back. Apparently he lost it. So there's no way that you could have possibly been swiped in with him this morning," said the guard.
Chell frowned and tapped her toe against the ground. Fine. That hadn't worked.
"Have you tried calling him?" she said.
"Yes. His department answered, but they're far too busy today to be taking calls," he said.
Chell did not say anything.
"This means that you and I have some things to figure out," he said. "I did some digging while I was calling around, and we did find your name on file for something else. Something much more recent: a test subject application. And you know what the good news on that is? It says that you are accepted, and that you're currently staying in the long-term relaxation wing. That's interesting. Care to clue me in as to why you're here and not there?"
"I can explain—"
"Please do, because as far as I can see, you're supposed to be asleep right now."
"I'm not actually a test subject—I didn't know that I'd be accepted, I was just trying to get out of here."
"Yeah, fat chance," he said.
"Just let me explain—"
"No, you listen to me," he said. "You're an escaped test subject. Got cold feet. It's not anything that we haven't seen before. In fact, I'm sure that you're not the only one even today to try and escape. It's a pretty good idea, really. Use some of the clothes that they give you, and just try to blend into the crowd. You would have gotten away with it, too, if you had just managed to snag a wristband."
Chell frowned.
"I had one of our runners go over to testing and we've got your file right here." The man dropped a manila folder on the table in front of her. Labeled on the side, she saw the name that she had signed up under. Chell Naransky.
"You see, when we did a search on your name today, this is what came up. Not your registration information for Bring Your Daughter to Work Day. I don't know how you managed to tell time down there and to figure out that it was today, and when to join in, but props to you. I'd be impressed if it wasn't my job to make sure that ladies like you stay exactly where you're supposed to be," he said. "When you open this folder, it shows that you haven't even started your testing yet," he said.
Chell didn't say anything. She used the toe of her shoe to push at a corner of a tile on the floor. The room she was in was bleak and dismal, as if she'd been detained for shoplifting in a mall rather than wandering Aperture Science without a valid pass.
"Unfortunately for you, missy, you signed a contract," he said. "And it says right here," he said, pausing to open up the folder and thumb through the pages, "that you will remain on premises until you have completed all tests in your assigned testing track."
Chell felt her heart sink. More testing? Really? Well, she could try to see on the bright side of that situation. Now that she was officially accepted into the testing program, this meant that she could get out of here—all she had to do was make her way through a series of tests.
That couldn't be too hard, could it?
They took her to a relaxation vault, gave her a bright orange jumpsuit, and had her change out of the clothes that Doug had given her and into the new clothes. She took a look around the short-term relaxation vault. It had the same glass walls. The same toilet with no privacy. The same clipboard and the same pod. Honestly she couldn't tell the difference between this one and the one she had been in so long ago when Caroline had locked her into a vault. Speaking of that…
"Hello?" she said, looking up at the speakers and the cameras. "Caroline?" she tried.
No response.
Chell opened the pod of the bed and just sat in it. She gave a long weary sigh. She wasn't ready yet to sleep—she didn't like sleep, and would rather stay up for as long as possible rather than go to sleep in one of those beds again. Yeah, that's what she'd do. She'd stay up for now.
What had she gotten herself into? Why had she been stupid enough to sign up for testing, anyway? She had thought that that would be her fastest way out of here—she didn't know that she'd be caught, and that it would actually stand in her way to get out of here.
She felt at the smooth edges of the pod.
They had to be testing her soon, anyway. Why not just get it over with? Maybe Doug would come and see her test. She felt like swearing under her breath but she didn't. She had forgotten that he didn't know that she'd signed up for testing. Why had she kept that such a secret from him? She knew that he wouldn't have approved of it, but still. It was a way of getting out of here—a dangerous way, but still a way.
She'd done tests before, and she could do them again. She'd get out of here, even if her other plan hadn't worked.
"I have to say, I'm extremely impressed," said one of the Black Mesa people. The speaker phone crackled every so often, a reminder that even more Black Mesa representatives were on the line.
"We know that Aperture had learned about our experiments with creating an ice inhibitor, but our ice inhibitor just, well, inhibits ice. We had no idea that what you were working on was so beautifully complex."
Greg checked the time on the wall clock. "We're going to have to make this quick," he said. "I'm due back in the Grand Ballroom in forty-five to give closing remarks."
"All right. We'll cut to the chase. This technology of yours is working flawlessly. We know you told us earlier about your recent experiment in selective memory repression, but what you showed us today I would have not recognized that machine as having come from Caroline. We spoke about all manner of things about her, about how we really felt about her and still no response—like a machine. We weren't stupid enough to try to provoke her into a reaction, but I heard several things today that would have made the blood boil of the Caroline I knew. "
"She's just not angry anymore," said Greg. "It's incredible. We can finally just do science again."
"You know, this AI-powered automation could be just what Black Mesa needs. I don't know if you know this, but we've been having rough times as well. If we could create some sort of AI-assistant technology to aid our security team, I bet we could cut back on at least half of our security force. They're expensive."
"You don't have many other automated systems over there, do you?"
"We do not. We've never really had the need to do it. Our government contracts have provided more than enough money to fund our operations."
"Just think of what else this technology could do for you. Fewer administrative staff—more science! Smoother operations. A stronger central network for your facility. Hell, we could even create a network to run privately between our two companies. Just think of the possibilities!"
"You do realize that what you proposed to us was Black Mesa outright buying Aperture Laboratories, correct?" crackled the speakerphone.
"Yes."
"Then you know that we'll decide what we see fit for using this new technology for."
"Of course. There's just so many possibilities. Can't help but get excited about them."
"We've talked it over, and this is what we can offer you. Black Mesa will buy Aperture for an agreed-upon price. We will then send over staff from Black Mesa to observe any projects that we don't have good intel on already. This is all typed up in a formal proposal, by the way. We will fax it over immediately."
"You had time for that?"
"We've been looking for a legal means of acquiring your company for decades. This paper was already written—just had to be updated for the occasion. Anyway, we plan to hand off to Aperture any government contracts that we get but do not have the resources for. As long as work gets done to our standard, we'll start to back off and let Aperture to continue to work its way."
"That sounds beyond generous," said Greg. "Have your money people send over their proposed offer and I'll get back to you right away."
"Will do. Greg, I'm so glad that you have done this. We weren't sure of the future of the company after Caroline's death. We thought that might have been a good time to approach you about an acquisition, but things were far too chaotic. Now with Caroline finally out of the way, you can all finally do what's good for the company's future."
As she listened, CarolineDOS tried to keep her processors cool.
Black Mesa? Merge with Aperture? Today? She'd rather go through the upload process a dozen times again than to let that happen. She had heard them discuss this earlier, but had assumed it would be way off in the future. Something that was months away, not hours away.
She couldn't let this information get out. She couldn't let them take Aperture away from her.
She had to stop this.
But she couldn't do anything suspicious. One wrong move and they would know in an instant that she was still Caroline inside and not the pleasant automaton that they had expected. Next time, they wouldn't make a mistake in making sure she lost access to her memories. She felt her digital blood boil and struggled to not let her chassis body rock back and forth with worry. What could she do? What would look like an accident?
She started to panic.
The locks on the door clicked shut, sealing off the conference room.
She shifted a few modules not too far away, "accidentally" severing a few pipes that she knew lead in to that room.
She sent out a small warning into the system—nothing facility-wide, just a notice that some people in maintenance would probably see.
Neurotoxin leak detected.
Deploying containment procedure
...
99% complete.
"Warning," she chimed into the room of the executives. "Nearby neurotoxin leak detected. Please remain seated until the threat has been contained. Thank you." She clicked off.
"Shit," Greg said. He hustled over to the red phone, picking up and dialing the extension to the Main AI Chamber.
"Something's happening—you need to shut it down. Call maintenance—" he said.
"I'm sorry," an automated voice said over a dial tone. "But the number you wish to reach is not available."
