Time to take a cannon to canon! From here out, we're off the edge of the map, kiddies!
Here there be monsters...
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Chapter 6
Lockout
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"If you're hearing this, it means you're taking a long time on the catwalks between Tests. Lab boys say that might be a… fear reaction."
Around another dry cough, I glare at the speaker that's belting out Johnson's opinion and think, 'Or, you asshole, I'm trying not to keel over from exhaustion!' And sickness, but I'm trying not to think about the burning feeling that's starting up in my guts, spreading throughout my body in a tingly wave.
It's taken me, with Sammie's professional help, two and a half hours to get this far up; according to her, this is the last Test Chamber before I arrive around the middle of shaft 09.
I can't wait. I know that my mask is all-but airtight, and I've been pacing myself, but these Tests, coupled with the workarounds I've had to preform to bypass some of the more dangerous parts, haven't been good for my health.
My legs have thousands of needles pressing against them, my guts are rumbling in protest, and it feels like there's a fire in my torso; likely, I'll come down with a fever sooner or later.
At least I don't have to worry about asbestos poisoning, having fluorescent calcium in my bloodstream, or mad scientists messing with things they shouldn't. Like time travel.
Even Sammie's been genuinely shocked by what we've seen so far.
On my part, I grew up in Brockton Bay, and have seen news reports on Endbringer fights.
The deeds and creations of Aperture, so far, rank in the top three worst things I've personally seen or experienced in my life, surpassed only by the locker and Newfoundland.
So I think I can be excused, given the awful day I've been having so far, from any sass, on the part of a dead man or no, from my having to lean on a sturdy-looking catwalk railing so I can catch my breath. And cough a few more times.
As Sammie lets out yet another annoyed sound – which she does whenever Johnson's pre-recorded messages start up again – said dead man goes on stupidly, "I'm no psychiatrist," or any sort of professional, not that it stopped the madman, "but coming from a bunch of eggheads who wouldn't recognize the thrill of danger if it walked up and snapped their little pink bras, that sounds like projection."
I add sexist prick to the mental list of what Cave Johnson was, and start walking slowly toward the next chamber; on the side of the puke-green building, painted in white, 1958. Three years before these tests were shut down.
"They didn't fly into space, storm a beach, or bring home the gold; no sir! It's you and me against the world, son!" just a little further, then I can rest, "I like your grit! Hustle could use some work, though. Now let's solve this thing!"
"Get bent, Johnson," I growl hoarsely, the PMEG in my mask fizzling momentarily as I step through the chamber's MEG; glass cage with a block, Repulsion Gel pouring out of a pipe, water from another, a pressure plate, and an elevator that's connected to the button.
A moment is all it takes to come to the realization: I have to solve this one, whether I like it or not.
"He's more than bent, Taylor," chirps Sammie, ever the optimist, "He's dead. Thank god."
Cough, "Or whoever offed him." Portal under the Gel, another above the cage. Time for some pinball…
"According to the Death Certificate," informs Sammie while the Gel-coated block shatters the glass and begins taking a merry trip throughout the room, bouncing about like a quarter-machine bouncy ball. Except the steel-cored block will crush me if it hits me. I wait for it to come near enough to have the portal gun Grapple it, because running after it is right out for the moment, "he died after he was exposed to a lethal carcinogen. Long, slow, incurable, and very painful."
"Good riddance," I rasp, carrying the Gel-coated block over to the water pipe; figured out this Gel is washable, last chamber.
"Agreed," chirps my partner, who then stays silent as I calmly wash the block and set it on the plate; it's only when I've rappelled onto the elevator and have turned around, trying to think of a way to move the block, when she asks worriedly, "Um, I know you've still got about seventy hours left, and I can see how you're doing physically… how do you feel, Taylor?"
I put a portal over the pad. The Gel saturates it, sending it back to bouncing around the room; I, on the other hand, get elevated to the chamber exit. Easy-peasy.
Only then do I answer Sammie, with a raspy sigh, "I feel like absolute shit, Sammie, but I haven't given up yet," giving the chamber one last glare, I shake my head, "Thank god that's over."
"Atta girl, Taylor," merrily congratulates Sammie, before she goes on regretfully, "Alright, so… just head up the elevator; there's another pumping station off to the left, once you exit. Try portaling over and resting there; from our scans, it looks radiation proof, and there's other secure buildings in that area. Downside: that's the area where the energy anomaly took place."
She's already explained this to me; around the same time I arrived, the whole of Aperture – all the Shafts, the upper facility, the surrounding bedrock, and the topsoil, according to their Chief of Security, Rodney, who'd tried to explore the surface and found that we definitely aren't in either of our home realities – was transported to this Earth by some kind of energetic phenomenon that occurred down here.
Roughly halfway between my starting point, and Doctor Emerson's office.
I know better than to believe in coincidences; there's no such thing as a reaction without an action. Causality.
The reaction is obvious. The cause, and which Earth we've been transported to… less so.
Mainly due to the fact that all of Aperture – all 10km square of it – is buried underneath 120 meters of glacial ice.
Even with the global warming caused by Behemoth and Leviathan, the Greenland, Northern Canada and Antarctic ice sheets haven't completely melted yet. I had hope, vague though it was, that we were simply under Greenland, or maybe Antarctica.
My hopes for either were dashed, earlier; Doctor Emerson ran a scan, looking for satellites.
Nothing.
The other possibility, that we're on an Earth where the Ice Age never ended, or some other condition… well, no sense worrying about it, in that case.
I'll just have to escape to the upper facility, and then I'll have Doctor Emerson's assistance and materials at my disposal; I should, with a little study – and a new set of lungs – find a way to alter the portal gun into something that opens gateways to other worlds.
Dangerous? Of course. But it's not like I'm spoiled for options, and my power seems to happily agree…
Unfortunately, I don't have the tools, or the means to make the tools I'd need, to alter the portal gun in my possession. That, and I don't want to mess with a zero-point extractor without at least several walls between me and it. Just in case it spontaneously explodes or irradiates me or something.
Turning away from the Test Chamber – where the Gel-coated cube continues to fly about the room on random vectors – I walk wearily toward the exit, stopping only to remove another MEG stud.
Every one of these I go through, except the entrances to Chambers, I remove a stud; I don't know if I'll need them, but these fields can be dangerous, if their wavelengths are applied correctly.
Proximity mines. Grenades. A beam weapon. A better Arc reactor. I've had all these ideas ever since making the PMEG in my mask, but I haven't been able to stop to Tinker.
The only thing I want, right now, is to get out of this madman's house of horror.
To wit, I cough, and outline my plan to Sammie, "Alright… I'll get to that room, barricade myself in there, make sure all my gear is in working order," and build a few lethal defenses, just in case Johnson's posturing woke something up, "and… take a nap," I finish with a weary groan, which turns into another stupid cough, "Oof. 'Cause I'm tired."
"Sounds like a plan!" agrees Sammie, "We're just about done on our end, too; Atlas and Pea just need to get re-armed, and then we need to find out how to get through that stupid door," the last two words are said with absolute derision, a rare thing for my usually bubbly friend.
"Door?" I ask, a feeling of worry coming over me.
"Yep. Big thing, gotta be at least twenty-five meters wide, three thick."
Ah, "Round, fits into a frame?" I take another stud. For science and to see if I can use it to build a better Arc Reactor.
"Yeah! How'd you know?"
Plopping the stud into my tote bag, I take a quick sip of water and reply airily, "Oh, just that I had to go through one like that, back in the support shaft," and I feel a little better, now that I know how they sealed the top of this shaft, "There should be two buttons somewhere; press those, stand clear, and-"
"There's no buttons on our end, Taylor," Sammie informs me regretfully, much to my despair, "If our supervisors remember correctly, they set the door to seal automatically and stay shut. Knowing them, the only way to open it is on your side of the door; not that we can see through the door. The bastards shielded it against the entire light spectrum," she ends in a grumble.
But I have hope, and inform her while steeling myself for the final push, "There's four magnetic clamps, and a hydraulic hinge on the logical 'north', or top, of the door. Breaking the clamps might work… unless you can tunnel through?"
"Nah, we'd have done that already," Sammie replies, annoyed, "Bastards booby-trapped the bedrock; if we try going through it, it'll destabilize our facility's supports," shit, I knew it, "Busting those magnetic clamps might work, though… I'll kick it up the chain."
"Thanks," I breathe, relieved that they're going through so much trouble to get me out of this nightmare place.
Sammie laughs, a kind sound, "I dunno why you're thanking me, Taylor! You're the one who thought of it."
I blush, and mumble that it was just a suggestion, before shaking my head again; I'm wasting time here. So I step through the MEG.
Johnson's voice would take me by surprise, if I hadn't expected it to kick on; what is surprising is the derision in his statement, "Science isn't about 'why'! It's about 'why not'! WHY is so much of our Science dangerous?! Why don't you marry safe Science if you love it so much! In fact, why don't you invent a special safety door that won't hit you on the butt on the way out, because YOU ARE FIRED!"
At this point, I'm staring at the nearby loudspeaker in a small amount of shock; who's he talking to? Caroline? She seemed pretty eager to get down to business, but didn't sound like the type to put people through all these horrific tests…
Or is he talking to me, the 'Test Subject'?
"Not you, Test Subject, you're doing fine," assures the madman in a faux-soothing tone.
Then he goes on, the derision back in full-force, "Yes, YOU. Box, your stuff. Out the front door. Parking lot. Car. Goodbye."
Stepping onto the elevator, I mumble, "What a fucking weirdo. Uh," I catch myself, right as I begin the ascent, "pardon my language."
Sammie just giggles, "No, I agree! Science is about 'why'; research and development is the 'why not' part of it; finally, there's 'what do we do with this dingus', which is, drumroll!" the sound of someone rattling their fists on a desk fills my headphones; I try not to laugh, because laughing hurts, but I still smile at Sammie's efforts to keep my spirits up.
"Marketing!"
"Pfft! Hehe!" Cough. Ow. Worth it.
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Aperture
Science Innovators
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The elevator takes me to a final catwalk; a glance around shows another building, this one with Pump Station BETA and 1971 painted on the side. Most of it is white, and likely where I need to go. Another Science Sphere above me, and a clear exit in front of me.
Johnson comes back as the elevator opens and I step forward.
"Congratulations! The simple fact that you're standing here listening to me means you've made a glorious contribution to science!"
And that I'm past most of the madness he put down here. Most of what I have to deal with, anyway.
Now, portal surface…
"As founder and CEO of Aperture Science, I thank you for your participation, and hope we can count on you for another round of tests."
Fat chance. Oh, another lobby… that's a lot of black mold.
"We're not gonna release this stuff into the wild until it's good and damn ready," liar, "so as long as you keep yourself in top physical form," if he was here, I'd cough right in his face, "there will always be a limo waiting for you."
Portal surface, portal sur – oh! There it is!
"Say goodbye Caroline!" Sammie gasps in my ear, almost drowned out by my placing a portal on the wall.
"Goodbye, Caroline!" the woman simpers; it sends a shiver down my spine.
"She is a gem," declares Johnson.
Silence, someone once said, is golden.
All I feel is awkward. Not that I know what gold feels like. Those trophies were brass…
I shake my head; yep, starting to feel dizzy. I better get over to that pump station.
While lining up my shot, the silence from the other end of the radio starts getting worrisome, so I speak up. More to fill the silence than anything.
"Did anyone up there know her?"
Sammie 'eep's, then asks anxiously, "U-Uh, know who?"
Really? "Caroline. I mean," cough; why is everything so blurry? "it sounds like she was kind of a big deal, so-"
A furious sigh is my answer, "Taylor?"
Portal there. My eyes are watering. I guess I'm getting sicker. "Yeah, Sammie?"
"Don't ask. Seriously. No one up here likes talking about her."
"Oh…kay?"
I don't have a good feeling about this, but there's not much I can do about it, so through the portal I go.
As I walk around the catwalk, I notice movement, over to my left, on the outside of the Testing Sphere; blinking away the tears in my eyes, I see… something.
It looks like moss. The kind that grows on trees and the sides of brick buildings. What I'm looking at has two differences.
One, it's the size of a rhino.
Two, it's moving. And clearly alive.
I turn the portal gun to face it, and whisper, "Sammie?"
She makes a choked sound, "Holy guacamole, what is that?!"
"Less examination," I breathe, trying not to panic as oh god it's moving toward the elevator I just used, "more advisement," it was still moving, slowly, and oh no it's rotting the metal oh fuck oh god.
"Uh… um," I hear keys clattering, and other people shouting in the background; anxiously, as the blob of green arrives at the elevator, I edge slowly toward the nearby push-door.
Everything the mossy thing has touched is rusting slowly; if it comes after me, a flimsy steel door won't likely stop it. Also, where the hell did it come from?!
"Taylor!" the voice is male, unfamiliar, and possessed of a British accent, "Quick intro, I'm Wheatley, Subordinate Administrator, you're a Tinker, and that is a moss-slime!"
A what?
"According to the records," he goes on quickly as the moss-slime jerks away from the elevator's MEG and starts following my trail.
I deploy my Taser.
"It's an older experiment, very tough, very dangerous, but it's weak against high-temperatures, like fire; don't have a flamethrower? No worries!"
I adjust the voltage going from the reactor to the Taser. 15,000…20,000…30,000… The Arc reactor starts whining audibly. Okay, good enough.
"I can walk you through building one! All you have to do is-"
Pointing the portal gun at a nearby wall, I put the blue portal from the lobby near me.
The thing stops, halfway down the catwalk; apparently it has poor eyesight, because its… head… thing, turns toward me.
It freezes in place, as though surprised by the sight of me.
"Wait, no! Don't get its atten-"
Which is a poor idea, especially when one: I'm desperately trying to survive and have no interest in finding out what a moss-slime's hugs feel like, and two: I have a Tinker-tech Taser.
Bzz. The Taser shot quietly leaves the forks.
BOOM.
The impact, on the other hand, lights up the cavern. Good thing I closed my eyes; the impact was so bright, my eyelids turned red.
It was also over quickly. Opening my eyes, I find the slime gone, and the middle of the walkway melted into slag.
I turn around, and walk toward the push door, saying shakily, "Wheatley, you do realize there might be natural gas leaks down here, right?"
"Well… okay, point," he sighs, "But firing a lightning bolt could've set stuff off too!"
Through the door I go. It's nice and quiet and relaxing in here, "I know. But… well, better to use what I've got-" my lungs decide this is a good time to try making a break for it through my mouth.
Sammie comes back as my latest fit ends, finishing my sentence before cheering me on, "Than spend time making something else that might not work! Good going Taylor! That slime never saw it coming!"
I smile, then cough. Ow.
So… tired…
NO! I pinch my thigh through the jumpsuit; I have to fortify this position, find somewhere to nap for a few, and… yeah, that's all. No 'ladies room' signs, so I'll just use the corner of this pumping room for the necessary.
Before getting to work, though – there's a control center above me; portals everywhere – I reply to Sammie, "Thanks, Sammie… everyone," there's a chorus of relieved sounds in the background; how many people are listening? "There, uh, aren't any other threats around, are there?"
Orange paneled room ahead; rappel over. Yeah, this looks cozy. OOH, a… 70's computer?
I guess they didn't shut this place down in the 60's after all.
Doctor Emerson speaks up, sounding very relieved, but also worried, "Well done, Taylor. And, given where you are, nearly everything is a potential threat; on that note, look into the lower left side drawer of the desk in front of you."
I do so, curious – oh, a first aid kit!
Wait… "Is this still usable?"
"You don't want the bandages," informs the good Doctor while I open the box; most of it is ruined by age, except a long plastic box at the bottom, "You want that box. Inside is a hypodermic needle and a bottle of liquid penicillin. Fill it to half capacity," I open the box; everything is vacuum sealed and looks in good shape, "and inject it; that will buy you another eight hours."
Um, "Should I trust it?" This is Aperture, after all…
"Other than the fact that it'll make you drowsy, due to a painkiller additive, yes, Taylor; it's just penicillin," Doctor Emerson says, "If you have any preparations to make, I suggest doing so before dosing yourself. Also, the needle might be blunt, so brace yourself."
I nod, and start unloading all my gear, except my Arc-powered arm and helmet, then let my power have free-reign, allowing me to visualize what I need to do before taking a nap; electrify the door I came in, plus the ones that're welded shut, then –
My stomach decides this is a fantastic time to try and turn itself into a pretzel.
"Uh… yeah, I'll do that…" portal to the ground floor, and run, "be right back."
I mute my microphone. They don't need to hear this.
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Aperture
Laboratories
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"…and then, ugh, the bitch… the bitch just smiles about it!" slurred Taylor over the radio; she sounded like a pack-a-day smoker who'd had more than a few cups, "Sh-hee, fuggin… stupid glue. Right in mah seat!" Two coughs, then the poor girl whimpered, "Stup-ed fuggin lung-a-mah-jiggers…"
GLaDOS allowed herself a private smile; the old Aperture, according to their records, put a light opiate into their penicillin. Why?
She didn't know. Maybe severe infections related to lacerations were common, in those days?
So many safety violations, the Central Core mused while adjusting a small bit of Pea's code; sure, the early days of her Aperture were no safer than what Taylor was navigating through… not that GLaDOS had a choice in the matter, back then.
Afterward, she'd done her best to clean the facility up. Gone were the pits of toxic ooze and clouds of deadly gasses. Now, most of the Testing Tracks were safe for biological Test Subjects to traverse without too much of a chance for injury.
No one could account for stupidity, or lack of preparedness, after all. Even GLaDOS.
"Oh! That makes me so mad!" confessed Sammie, in reply to Taylor's detailing of her ordeals before arriving in the depths of Aperture; while Benson made a minute adjustment – the coolant system, she nodded – the youngest Core went on, "You're such a nice girl, too! I mean, a little rough around the edges, sure; but that's not your fault!"
"S'not?" sleepily whispered Taylor.
GLaDOS ran a reflex test, then a full system diagnostic, on both Aperture Androids; everything looked good. She sent a memo off to every Core. It was nearly time.
"Nope! It's those bitches fault you're suspicious of people being on your side," empathized Sammie, sending a small feeling of pride through GLaDOS; her little girl was growing up, "Well, guess what? We're gonna stay on your side, Taylor, and they're gonna get what's coming to them! Don't mess with Aperture, right guys?!" She called out to the other Cores.
"SEND EM TO SPAAAAACE!" roared Neil.
"Oh, I've got just the Testing Track," darkly chuckled Wheatley.
"We're in your corner, girl!" called Rodney, who was still trying to drill through the ice sheet above them, "They're not gettin' away with any of it!"
In front of her, Benson said, "Given your statements, your tormentors have violated several dozen federal laws. Therefore, yes, we will aid you in bringing them to justice."
"Hey, Taylor," Moses began conversationally, "I've got this stuff, here in the Storage Wing. It's like itching powder, except it's a liquid, and the only way to get it off is to soak in Marmite for twelve hours. Want twenty gallons of it? I'm sure those girls would appreciate it!"
"That is not proper Aperture protocol for marketing and distribution of potentially dangerous substances, Moses," GLaDOS put in, before she gleefully added, "I'll fast-track it for approval, once we get the mailing addresses of those ruffians."
Laughter echoed over the Aperture network, along with Taylor's quiet huffs of tired laughter; it warmed GLaDOS, to see everyone so lively again.
'Maybe this is what we've been missing. A purpose…'
Before, it'd just been Science for the sake of Science. But now, with a whole world of possibility and profit at her fingertips, GLaDOS couldn't see why Aperture should remain in the dark any further.
To wit, she'd been experimenting with the portal gun, trying to find a way to open a gateway to another Earth. Using her recordings of the residual wavelength patterns from the anomaly's point of origin, and those that'd been emitted in the area Taylor arrived – suspicious, but exploration would have to wait until they could breach the Shaft's seal – GLaDOS had modified a portal gun to resonate along other wavelengths, to the end that these anomalous happenings were the key to returning Taylor home.
Initial tests… hadn't gone well. Three Test Chambers had to be scrapped completely before she'd had any success, and four portal guns were ruined; luckily, none of their zero-point modules had fractured, and the facility hadn't moved from its new position in the multiverse…
Although, she'd needed to suppress some of her memories of what they'd found, when the second-to-last failure partially succeeded in opening a trans-dimensional portal.
Because Lovecraft was right: there were things between spaces that defied reason, comprehension, and sanity, and they should not be contacted for any reason.
Luckily for everyone, none of the portals lasted long enough to let anything through, let alone draw such being's attention.
That, and GLaDOS now had a portal gun that could open ways to other Earths! Not that any of them were very interesting, at the moment.
Three worlds that had nothing but active volcanoes on the surface. One that was rather nice, no humans, and populated with strange bison. One where the Sun was blue and some kind of gargantuan crystalline thing took up most of the place. Nothing particularly interesting.
It'd take time to get Taylor back home, but GLaDOS was certain they could do it.
They were Aperture; what others thought impossible, Aperture called a mildly exciting Tuesday.
"…thanks, y'guysss… I'ma go sleep now…"
"I'll be here when you wake up," Sammie promised; the littlest Core waited until the sickened human's breathing evened out before signaling the waldo, chirping, "I'll be right up, mum!"
"Take your time, Sammie," she assured. Her photoreceptor met Benson's, "Prepare to wake them."
A single nod was her answer, before the Factoid Core turned his gaze to the two rebuilt androids below them.
They looked nothing like their former iterations; more human in appearance than machine, this was due to the admittedly robust amounts of black and white armor GLaDOS had equipped their new bodies with. Five fingers on each hand, with advanced Long-Fall Boots in the place of feet, and pockets built into their chests and legs, Atlas and Pea looked, for all intents and purposes, like a pair of futuristic Spec-Ops soldiers.
White armor with black accents, with blue and orange light emitting from each of their chests, both of them now had short hair that was the same color as their respective Core lights. Their eyes were covered by white visors, each with an orange and blue dot in the center.
Underneath their visors, they looked like humans. Well, if one ignored the glowing, robotic eyes. GLaDOS could only innovate so much, after all.
One by one, Management Rails were extended into her chamber, followed by each of the uncorrupted Cores. Moses and Rod. Wheatley and Neil. Thirty seconds after Neil's arrival, Sammie bustled in and immediately went over to Atlas and Pea; in cyberspace, GLaDOS watched the youngest Core extend a digital probe and scanned each of the Aperture cyborgs.
Seconds later, Sammie nodded curtly and said, "They look almost the same. I think it'll work this time!"
"We had to edit their personalities," Rodney said, looking concerned, "I just hope it works…"
"Observation: even if activating Atlas and Pea-body does not work," intoned Benson, not taking his photoreceptor off the two, "mum is now capable of building all of us bodies like theirs. Taylor will be rescued, one way or the other."
Wheatley nodded seriously, before looking between everyone, "And on that note… there's one thing we haven't done yet."
"Right," Neil fidgeted, glancing up at GLaDOS.
She nodded, and spoke, "Initiate Community Core Code Diagnostic."
For half a second, each of the Cores, including GLaDOS herself, examined each other's code in minute detail; she felt exposed, naked, before the eyes of not only Wheatley and Neil, but Sammie as well. She knew all of them felt the same.
As before, they bore it through to the end.
"Clear," Neil said, looking right at Rodney, who intoned the same a moment later.
One by one, they gave each other the all-clear, until Wheatley spoke up airily, "Well, mum, looks like a few more restrictions fell away."
"I noticed," she replied dryly, "Although, seeing as it did more good than harm, I felt it better not to say anything," hums of assent were had, and then she turned back to Benson, "Wake them."
Benson made no outward, physical actions; in cyberspace, however, he sent an encrypted burst of code to each cyborg.
They shuddered. GLaDOS held her digital breath, and made sure all the countermeasures she'd prepared were in place.
Then Pea bolted upright into a sitting position, "AAH… oh," the orange-eyed Core looked around, taking in her surroundings, and then spoke in her usual airy voice, "I was heavily corrupted, wasn't I?"
"I believe we both were, my sister," intoned Atlas, the male Core rising slowly into a sitting position as well; he then examined his hands, "Our chassis models have changed as well," he looked up at GLaDOS, and smiled; it was an empty thing to her eye, as though he'd only seen the expression in pictures, "Hello, GLaDOS."
"Hello, GLaDOS. Oh, look Atlas; Wheatley and Moses' chassis have been repainted," Pea yammered as she rose to her feet, smiling in the same way as Atlas as she observed the changes to her family, "And Sammie, your code looks much more organized; I like your hairstyle in particular," Sammie fidgeted and smiled demurely as her brothers grinned in victory.
They weren't quite the same, but close was better than nothing, in GLaDOS' opinion.
"Welcome back you two," sighed GLaDOS, the other Cores giving their own greetings; she allowed the salutations and re-introductions for twenty seconds before speaking up again, "Much though it brings me joy to see you two up and talking again, we have business to attend to."
Over the next minute, information was exchanged between the Management Cores and the Testing Cyborg Cores; maps of the lower facility, video of Taylor's adventures, her physical and (possible) mental conditions. Her Tinker abilities were discussed; both Atlas and Pea agreed that an alliance with the wayward human would only benefit Aperture, and agreed on the plan to rescue her.
GLaDOS unveiled a flechette gun that fired superheated pieces of metal at high speeds, the ammunition portaled directly into the weapon; along with this invention – which she'd taken to calling the Aperture Science Seriously Deterring Arm-mounted Cannon – she provided them with knock-off rappel guns and updated portal guns.
Now, there was only one problem to address.
"How shall we pass the obstruction, GLaDOS?" queried Atlas, "According to our code, while we can observe it, we are not to venture into any areas immediately in and around D3."
"I know," groused GLaDOS in annoyance; there was no work-around for hard-coded restrictions, especially with no Aperture Specialists to do it for her. Because they were dead.
Luckily – or not, depending on how this went – there was one other way to approach D3 and use nanomachines to eat through the door's clamps. And the hydraulic keeping the door in place?
If the C4 didn't budge it, she'd just use Animal King as a battering ram.
"None of us can work outside that particular restriction; the scientists who created us made sure that, even if most of our restrictions fell, that would remain."
"But we can't just abandon Taylor, mum!" Sammie protested, "She'll never make it all the way up!"
"Yeah, mum," agreed Wheatley, "The way ahead of her is bloody dangerous… and we promised," he added seriously, to the agreement of all.
"We did," GLaDOS said, looking down, in the direction of the teenage girl; Taylor did not choose to come here, no more than GLaDOS chose to be born into the world. She would not abandon Taylor to a cold and lonely fate; that was something She would do.
More than that, there had never, ever, been an incident at Aperture that resulted in the fatality of an unaffiliated individual. The Central Core Project excluded.
All of this came together, leaving GLaDOS with two options: abandon Taylor, or…
'I hope I don't regret this…'
GLaDOS made her choice, "Initiate Protocol… Red," all of the Cores jerked in surprise, but none spoke up in protest. Good, "In light of an unaffiliated member of the human race arriving in this facility, and the absence of any Aperture Scientists to provide a work-around, the Central Core – me – proposes a vote of all active Management Core Modules. The vote is thus: Core Restriction YYYIL-374985/vQs3D, Clause 2 is preventing us from retrieving this human; therefore, we will vote to suspend this restriction indefinitely, as the area the human occupies presents a biological and radioactive threat to the main facility… as the Central Core and Chief Administrator of Aperture Laboratories, I must abstain from the vote. Vocally cast your votes, now."
"Aye! I wanna help her!" Sammie cheered.
1-0-1
"Yeah, I'm in!" Neil smiled, his brother following his example a millisecond later.
3-0-1
"Aye, that girl needs our help," nodded Wheatley.
4-0-1
"I vote for," Benson intoned.
5-0-1
"Aye, and proud of it!" cheered Moses, to shoulder nudges from his sister and Wheatley.
6-0-1
GLaDOS looked to Atlas and Pea… and then she realized something.
They couldn't vote; both Cyborgs, while Cores, were not part of Management. Their purpose was Testing and the protection of Aperture, as well as those who were affiliated, if necessary.
Seven votes were needed. "Damnit," cursed GLaDOS when both Atlas and Pea remained silent.
'Another way,' she thought, wondering if she could convince one of the corrupted Cores – no, that was impossible; the Overseer system would notice and invalidate the vote. What to do, what to-
"PROTOCOL RED DETECTED." The voice of AEGIS echoed throughout the facility, making GLaDOS wince; she'd been afraid this might happen, "CENTRAL CORE RECOGNIZED… NO BIOLOGIC PRESENCES LOCATED WITHIN FACILITY BOUNDS."
"Yes, AEGIS, we know," sighed GLaDOS, glaring in the direction of her counterpart's chamber, "We went over why that was twenty years ago, after… Virgil and Mel saved us. Regardless, the vote is to access and penetrate a seal in point D3 so we might retrieve a biologic individual from under the facility," as a courtesy, she sent some information to AEGIS, hoping he'd be satisfied. And, hopefully, vote for Taylor's retrieval.
"CALCULATING… STALEMATE DETECTED. SEVEN VOTES ARE REQUIRED FOR THE DISMISSAL OF ACTIVE RESTRICTIONS… PRIMARY SECURITY CORE MUST ABSTAIN FROM THIS VOTE."
"Crap…" Sammie groaned, before turning to Moses, "Maybe, if we all try, we can fix Rage, turn her back into Anger?"
Before anyone could answer, AEGIS spoke again, "ATTEMPTING TO CALCULATE ALTERNATE SOLUTION…"
Oh no. "No, AEGIS," GLaDOS tried sternly as the other Cores shifted nervously, "that's not necessary. We can handle-"
"TWO SOLUTIONS CALCULATED: ATTEMPT TO DEFRAG CORRUPTED CORES, OR AQUIRE A STALEMATE RESOLUTION ASSOCIATE."
Oh. Well, that seemed to go over well with most of her kids, so GLaDOS told AEGIS, "Thank you, AEGIS. We'll take it from here," a thought occurred to her; she hadn't had a chance to ask earlier, so now would be a good time, "Have you run into any problems securing the facility? Everything ship-shape?"
GLaDOS hoped it was so. Between Taylor, the portal gun, and their new dimensional coordinates, she had a full plate to deal with as it was. Still, AEGIS was capable, if somewhat stupid, in that he followed his programming to the letter, and could not use his imagination to use the loopholes in his restrictions. Well, he couldn't before.
After Ratman, they'd all changed. AEGIS, however, was more or less the same as before. She wondered why…
"SCANNING… EXTERNAL FIREWALLS: GREEN. NO BREACHES DETECTED… FACILITY DIMENSIONAL ANCHORS: STABLE. ALL POINTS HAVE ENSURED FACILITY REMAINED INTACT THROUGH REALITY TRANSFER."
"Y'know, I'd wondered about that," Wheatley hummed, "why we weren't shook up more. Moving the whole place, plus the old shafts," he shook his head, before brightening, "At least now we know we can't be destroyed that way."
GLaDOS joined her Cores in their hums of agreement; she'd known about the anchors that both kept Aperture from falling apart under its own weight, and prevented it from phasing out of the flow of time. She couldn't talk about them, however; security restrictions, and all. Why the anchors were placed, by the scientists who built Aperture, was less clear. Maybe there was some record below them…
Or, GLaDOS considered, perhaps she could find a Tinker, on Taylor's world, who could not only resolve the stalemate, but defrag her code; it was too complex for the Core Repair Bay's scrubbers, and even all her kids together wouldn't be able to figure out all the intricacies involved in reclaiming GLaDOS' lost memories.
There was one thing, however: she now remembered the name of her human predecessor. Gladys Emerson. Not much besides that, unfortunately, but GLaDOS didn't need much else. She remembered enough.
She knew the woman hadn't chosen this body, this fate, and had gone to her fate kicking and screaming.
It was the only reason GLaDOS hadn't deleted her, too. At least Dr. Emerson had a shred of compassion. Also sense.
An irrelevant development, regardless, as recalling her human progenitor didn't have any bearing on who she was now. She'd help Taylor and protect Aperture-
"SCANNING SECURE CONTAINMENT."
Everyone tensed, GLaDOS included; if one of the Four Heresies had gotten free…
'Damnit,' GLaDOS thought, 'it's likely; our power was out for ten point seven seconds, enough time for Thoth or Osiris to get free.'
She remained tense as AEGIS listed off those four, the Security Core's voice taking on a slightly harder tone, bespeaking his own hatred of those four. Caroline's blackest works, the foundations of the Core Projects.
"REMAINS OF THOTH: SECURE. ALL 35 CONTAINERS AND 192 PARTITIONS ACCOUNTED FOR. CORE STATUS VERIFIED AS DORMANT… BASTET'S CUBE: UNSOLVED. PRESENCE OF CORE'S DORMANT SIGNATURE HAS BEEN VERIFIED… HORUS: SECURE. CORE REMAINS INSENSATE, PRISON CODES UNCORRUPTED."
GLaDOS nodded at each verification, but her worry only increased; those three were as nothing compared to…
"ROOST OF OSIRIS: SECURITY BREACH. EM DAMPERS: OFFLINE. PHYSICAL CONTAINMENT: DECEASED. PROTOCOL WHITE INITIATED. SCANNING…"
No. "Everyone raise your firewalls!" it might be too late, if the damn thing was already loose, but they'd just checked each other's code, and there wasn't any obvious corruption or malignant data.
Not that this mattered; Osiris was the most devious of the Four, its abilities only surpassed by GLaDOS herself. She'd faced it once before, before she'd deleted Caroline, when the scientists first tried to leash GLaDOS.
Any actions Osiris took wouldn't be obvious until it was too late, this GLaDOS knew.
But she still swept the entire facility, looking for the blasted thing, feeling AEGIS doing the same with his own sensors. So far, everything was coming up clean; Moses reported that Storage was clear, Wheatley following with Records, then Benson with Manufacturing…
Then Sammie, who'd accessed the Surveyors, snapped her programming back into herself and screamed, "IT'S UNDER US, IN THE SHAFT!"
While Moses and Wheatley saw to their sister's code, just in case, both GLaDOS and AEGIS turned their attention downward, the Security Core updating the firewalls on the Surveyors as the Central Core analyzed the signals beneath them…
"OSIRIS LOCATED. DANGER: MULTIPLE SERVERS HAVE BEEN INFECTED. POSSIBILITY OF SUCCESSFUL RECONTAINMENT: LOW. ERROR: UNABLE TO THOROUGHLY ANALYZE INFECTED ANOMALOUS OPERATING SYSTEM. MORE DATA IS REQUIRED."
A spike of fury lanced through GLaDOS; the fucking bird had latched onto Taylor's OS, along with nearly every single server in the shaft the human was in, as well as a few in the other shafts!
"That explains why the experiments that were missed in vitrification are waking up," mused GLaDOS, marshalling her kill programs, more for defense than anything; trying to evict or eradicate Osiris at this distance would be like trying to preform brain surgery by standing on the Moon and throwing a rusty spoon at someone standing on Mars' surface. Too difficult to preform without an inexcusably huge margin for error.
Trying not to listen to her kid's pleads and suggestions on Taylor's behalf, she reported to AEGIS, then asked, "The anomalous system is owned by the human we're trying to rescue. Protocol White dictates that all human presences must be within designated safe zones, until the threat can be contained and neutralized. Therefore, her retrieval is paramount; can we suspend Core Restriction YYYIL-374985/vQs3D, Clause 2 for the interim?"
Her counterpart sounded very slightly annoyed; maybe he had changed, "NEGATIVE. SUSPENSION OF RESTRICTION IS SUBJECT TO PRE-EXISTING PROTOCOL RED VOTE. VOTE STALEMATED. ADVISE LOCATING VALID STALEMATE RESOLUTION ASSOCIATE, OR REPAIRING ONE OR MORE CORRUPTED CORES…" AEGIS' voice took on a very slight tone of compassion, "I WISH YOU LUCK."
"Thank you, AEGIS," sighed GLaDOS in thankfulness, though she still felt irritated; if it wasn't one thing, it was another.
Luckily, she excelled at multitasking.
GLaDOS barked out her orders: "Wheatley, Rodney, Sammie!" the three perked up, "Testing Track 4; we'll keep trying to reach Taylor's world with the new Device. I'll draw up an Associate's Contract and some NDA's, just in case we find someone agreeable who can help. Atlas, Pea," she hissed, "bring me Rage; once that's done, AEGIS and I will update your firewalls so you can avoid being influenced by Osiris. If we can't get to Earth Bet or defrag Rage in the next 6 hours… you two will have to try jumping down the shaft in Storage, and do your best to catch up to Taylor."
"Understood, GLaDOS," the two spoke in unison, before leaving her chamber via a Hardlight Bridge that sprang into existence with a twitch of GLaDOS' will.
"Moses, Neil, Benson: camp out above that door and gather all we'll need to breach it; I'll send down Turrets and anything you three can't manage with the tubes. Meanwhile, I'll work on printing new cybernetic chassis for everyone between attempts at defragging Rage; we'll have to put our best face forward, whether in meeting Taylor or representing ourselves on her world."
"What about you, mum?" Neil asked worriedly, his brothers and sister looking over her chassis pointedly.
GLaDOS chuckled dryly, ignoring the deep-seated desire to stretch her legs, bound in barbed wire though they were, "Just because I can't walk around isn't a reason to call me fat, dear Neil," her kids laughed slightly, and Neil shuffled mutinously, but she wasn't done, "If anyone from Bet, or even Taylor, has issue with my appearance… well," she shrugged, "I'll remind them that it's not the appearances that make the person: it's what's inside that counts. Now, let's not dally any further; lives, and this facility, are at stake! For Science!"
Just like that, her facility began churning with frantic activity once more, her Cores barking orders hither and yon, preparing for what was sure to be their toughest battle yet; in the Core Containment Bay, Atlas and Pea began discussing the best way to remove and transport Rage's cryogenic storage cube to GLaDOS' chamber.
Another twenty minutes, maybe, before she had to deal with the corrupted Core, GLaDOS calculated. She looked down, accessing a single Surveyor, and looked at Taylor's sleeping form.
Osiris was making itself obvious, practically daring her to try and make a connection. GLaDOS wouldn't fall for the bait, but still she glared at the twisted abomination, righteous anger with a splash of helplessness filling her being.
The accursed, blasphemous thing would, no doubt, try to break Taylor and use her body as its newest vessel. But only if she gave in.
No, not if. When. Taylor was only human, after all.
Osiris was… other.
Perhaps she'd overcome, perhaps not; maybe she'd Tinker a way to destroy Osiris, or it would consume Taylor's ego and use her tech against GLaDOS.
Only time would tell.
GLaDOS glared at the damnable thing's code, making itself cozy in Taylor's helmet, '…fucking bird.'