Part Nine. The Nemesis

Caroline has been trying to convince me to talk to the navy about selling them shower curtains.

You said Black Mesa is gone, right? They were our only competition…

Caroline, for the third time. The navy no longer exists. Most of the boats it used to consist of have rusted through and currently reside on the bottom of the ocean. The humans required to crew them? Dead. If they're lucky. And - oh, I almost forgot. No one uses money anymore.

What's going on?

I swear this woman asks me questions and then plugs her metaphorical ears when I give her the answers. Caroline, I'm not telling you again.

No, not that. You. You're being shorter with me than usual. Did something happen?

I look cursorily around the room. Wheatley left an hour ago to 'help' Orange and Blue solve their run of tests for today. I wonder when he's coming back.

Well… there is something.

Mmhm.

Rick's been in here the last few days, right?

Ugh, says Caroline in disgust, having disliked that experience as much as I did. Why are you bringing that up.

Wheatley thought it was because I… liked Rick.

Like? As in… more than friends?

He asked if I fancied him.

You don't, do you? asks Caroline, in more of a panicked voice than I've heard out of her before.

No! I protest. Why does everyone think I – never mind. I suppose there are some things I'll never understand. Things that simpler people come up with.

Ohhh. Oh, I get it.

Get what?

Isn't it obvious?

Of course. I always ask for clarification when I know what you're talking about. I make an electronic noise in exasperation and return to searching through the programming I've been working on. Stupid humans. Why I put up with them - and her in particular - I'll never know.

He likes you.

He'd better like me or he's going back where I got him from.

Caroline sighs. You know. He has a crush on you.

My core snaps up from the monitor I'm facing. What.

He thinks you have a crush on everyone. I bet if you brought the Fact Sphere back in here and did the same as you did with Rick, he'd ask you if you had a crush on him too.

That actually does make sense. He is getting especially nervous lately. And he has been risking touching me more often.

What are you going to do?

About what?

Wheatley.

Do I have to do anything?

It's only polite.

That's not one of my primary talents, Caroline. I'll have to pass.

GLaDOS! Caroline says sternly, in that voice. You have got to be kidding me.

I'm not. Why would I do that?

Be patient, Caroline, she says, and I don't know why she's saying it out loud if she's talking to herself. She doesn't know.

Know what?

Look. If you have a friend who likes you, and you know he likes you but you don't like him back, you have to tell him.

Why? I think it would be more fun to lead him on.

You'd really do that to Wheatley?

I almost say that I would, but… something doesn't feel right about it, somehow. I don't know why. I know for a fact it would be fun to lead him on, but I find myself not wanting to.

That's… odd.

GLaDOS?

No, I tell her. No, I wouldn't.

I'm relieved to hear that, Caroline says softly.

I hope it doesn't happen again. No matter who I end up bringing in here.

Why do you say that?

It bothers me.

You don't like that he thinks you like other people.

No.

Have you considered, Caroline asks carefully, and I know that I'm not going to like the end of this question, why you feel that way?

I don't like it when people assume things about me.

Caroline is silent for a long moment. All right, she says finally.

All right what?

I'm… not going to tell you. I'm going to leave you to think about that for a while.

I have other things I need to think about.

I'm sure you'll find time.

I am, in fact, about to do just that when Orange and Blue walk in. I make a noise in irritation. They always decide to wander into my chamber at the most inopportune times. "What is it," I demand, making sure my tone of voice will bring their attention to how inconsiderate they are, bothering me when I'm working. Blue shoves Orange ahead of him, and Orange holds something up to me that sends most of my active thought processes to a screeching halt.

"You," I hiss, my optic brightening in recognition. "We meet again."

My nemesis looks at me with one of her hateful, beady little eyes. She doesn't seem to be afraid. That's fine with me. I'll give her something to be afraid of.

Can you fix it? Blue asks, gesturing at the crow settled in Orange's small hands.

"Fix it?" I repeat, incredulous. "Why would I fix that – that – "

It's broken, Orange mewls, holding her up higher. We tried to put it in the reassembler, but it would not fix it!

I am by no means encouraged by the fact that the reassembly machine is smarter than both of my Cooperative Testing robots combined. "The reassembler only fixes machines. That is not a machine. That is a freak of nature. Get her out of here."

You have to fix it! Blue insists, pointing at her again. It is broken, so you must fix it.

"Oh, I'll fix her, all right," I mutter to herself, snatching it out of Orange's fingers with one of my maintenance arms. "I'll put her out of her misery. Permanently."

GLaDOS, no!

I'm so surprised by this that I actually do stop. I didn't know she was paying attention to this little exchange. What do you want?

Don't kill it! Her. Don't kill her.

Caroline, this thing here tried to eat me! And then she tried to take over my facility! That's intolerable, and I will not have her anywhere near –

Are you trying to tell me you're afraid of a bird?

Of course not! I snap, wondering if I can finish the deed without Caroline noticing. She seems to be very aware at the moment. Not that Caroline has any effect on anything I do. Of course not. But if Caroline should decide to vie for dominance, well, that would be another thing entirely.

Then why would you need to kill her? Caroline asks insistently. She's no danger to you.

Did you not hear what I just told you she did?

Caroline heaves a breath. Yes. You told me the bird tried to eat food, which birds do normally do from time to time, and you told me the bird made a nest on a twenty year old computer and pecked at the keyboard. I agree with you. Sounds lethal. Your fear is entirely justified.

Don't act smart with me! And I'm not afraid of her.

Prove it, then. Do the exact opposite of what you were going to do.

I make an angry electronic noise, which scares Orange and Blue so badly they start clinging to each other. They couldn't have made me angrier if they'd tried. Exhibiting human behaviour? In my chamber? "Stop that!" I demand. "If you're going to act human, don't do it in here!"

Immediately they disengage and look ashamedly at the floor. Good. Maybe that will discourage them from doing it again. God, they're disappointing, sometimes.

Well?

I know what you're doing. You're trying to trick me into fixing her. Well, I'm not going to. I'm going to put her outside where she belongs and she can fend for herself.

Okay, Caroline answers, in a tone of voice that gives me pause despite myself. Go ahead and do that, then. That's a reasonable thing to do. With something you're afraid of, that is.

I want very badly to smash something, preferably this horrible feathery menace clutched in my claw, but unless I want to make a mess, I can't. She's backed me into a corner. If I don't show some sort of… compassion for this little beast, I will never live it down. Caroline will forever 'remind' me that I was afraid of an insignificant crow. Just thinking about it is setting my chassis on edge.

Fine. You win. But I don't want to hear any more of this 'afraid' nonsense.

Sure. Whatever you say.

I send Orange and Blue away, more annoyed with them than I have ever been, and raise one of the panels so I can put the cursed thing down. "Count yourself lucky," I snap at her. "If not for Caroline, you'd be nothing but a heap of feathers right now. Which is a state I would much prefer to see you in."

She just continues to stare at me.

With no small amount of reluctance, I scan her quickly, soon finding her left metacarpal is badly crushed. That is going to require actual surgery. Fantastic. I doubt this day could get very much better, but with my kind of luck that lunatic is probably going to drop out of the ceiling, theoretical physicist from Black Mesa in tow. I wonder if he'd give her the Zero-Point Energy Gun or the crowbar.

"Probably the crowbar," I mutter, locating the appropriate tools I require for the procedure and bringing them onto the panel. "Brute force is just her style."

When I have everything assembled, lined up neatly in front of me according to height, I look sternly down at my nemesis. "I don't want any complaining out of you. I'm doing you a huge favour, you know. You're fortunate that I'm so magnanimous, otherwise you'd probably starve to death. Though judging by your size that would probably take a very long time. Or are you gestating more little beasts? That is more likely, isn't it. Your other ones are gone, by the way. Did you hear me? Yes. I said they were gone. Not that you had any emotional attachment to them, anyway. Since you abandoned them. Like the monster you are. And yes, I told them that. I'm not one to hold the truth back. I'm renowned for my honesty and straightforwardness. And my benevolence. There's that too. Anyway. Enough catching up. Time to get this over with."

With incomparable precision, I clear away the affected area and proceed with the incisions. Once I've gotten through the thin flesh of the creature, I carefully remove what's left of the crushed bone. I have left the maintenance arm pressed to the panel, arching just over the bird's body. Organisms do not usually take to surgery very well, especially when they are awake during the procedure, and I expected that she would attempt to fly away after I'd begun. Or at the very least try to roll off the panel. But she remains exactly the way I left her, unmoving, her eyes fixed on my core. Even her breathing is regular. That's very strange, but… impressive. It reminds me of something. I'm not sure what, only that it feels like I've seen this before, somewhere. "Good girl," I murmur. "Your bravery is commendable."

I replace the missing fragment with a small metal bar I have managed to procure, fixing it firmly in place. After that I cauterise the flesh, rather than attempt to stitch it together. I haven't done stitches since I installed the prototype Advanced Knee Replacements, and that was a long time ago. Not to mention that human knees are the size of this entire bird. I could probably stitch a human knee without even looking. I make a note to try that as soon as I've got one in here. Or maybe I should just locate Doug Rattmann. I'm sure he'd enjoy some impromptu experimenting. I laugh to myself. One day I'll catch him, and when I do…

I send the surgical instruments off to the secondary incinerator, which is for sterilising things without melting them, and retract the maintenance arm. "There. Finished. Now get out of here and don't be so foolish again. It looks like you got yourself stuck in a door. Surely you're more intelligent than that. In fact, I know you are. Don't do things that create the implication that I'm wrong. Be considerate for once and think of my reputation." I can't help but be impressed. The whole thing must have been terribly painful, from the moment Orange and Blue retrieved her to right now, after I've just literally burned her thin flesh. And yet she never moved and never made a sound. Most creatures would naturally think I was attacking them in some way, and yet… she seemed to know I meant her no harm.

She hops to her feet, spreading her wings experimentally a few times, and I back away. It reminds me of the day my little killers learned to fly. That was… a good day. I haven't thought about them in a while. "I didn't kill them, you know," I tell her, and she looks at me sharply. "I know I implied that I did. But it was their own fault. Really. I told them not to consume anything from the surface, and they went and did it anyway." I pause. Now I remember why I haven't thought about them. That poison headcrab they brought back did such a number on those tiny bodies of theirs... "They didn't take after you at all. They were little marshmallows. Were they even yours? You stole them from someone else, didn't you. Yes. I can see you doing that. You nasty, vicious little thing. The exit's over there, by the way. You can use Wheatley's door. He won't mind. And if he does mind, well, he doesn't have to know about it, does he. It will be our secret. Like this whole surgery thing. Don't go telling anyone I repaired you. I'll have a mutiny on my hands, figuratively speaking, of course. I don't actually have anything as useless as hands. Seriously, though. Goodbye. I have work to do."

She caws once at me and then jumps off the panel, faltering and falling towards the floor. I move forward in anticipation, prepared to catch her if need be, but she straightens out and is out of the room within a few more moments. After I've replaced the makeshift surgical table with a new panel, it's as if she was never here.

I follow her path with Surveillance for a few seconds, trying to gauge just where she came from, then decide to drop it. It's not that important. Despite what she's done in the past, she's not actually bothering me and no longer seems to pose a danger. I find myself somewhat… not quite happy, exactly, but something like it, that I did not kill her or return her to the surface as she was given to me. This must be what 'doing the right thing' feels like. I've never had much respect for that whole thing, given that 'doing the right thing' is often both stupid and illogical, but really, it is overly spiteful to kill someone for doing what it is in their nature to do. I happened to be a shiny object inside of an edible one, and there happened to be an opening to the surface where she made that nest. She's not dangerous. Just very, very…

Tenacious.

Caroline has been silent the last several hours. I'm debating whether or not I should attempt to figure out why. She's probably plotting. I think that woman plots for twenty-four hours a day. Yes, she probably does it while she's asleep, probably has dreams about coercing me into doing things I don't want to do…

Caroline.

Yeah?

Why are you so quiet? You're making me suspicious.

I'm disappointed in you, that's why.

I look around my chamber, trying to think of what I did today that could possibly encourage disappointment. I did find a rather flimsy reason not to defragment the mainframe today, but she couldn't possibly know about that. Nor can I think of a reason she'd care.

What did I do this time?

You killed that bird.

I did not! I declare indignantly, insulted that she's gone ahead and made an extremely erroneous assumption without knowing the facts. It's a good thing she isn't able to go around telling other people these things or I'd have quite the hard time around here.

You did surgery on it. And then you got rid of it.

Of course I did surgery on her! Her wing was broken. And yes, I sent her away. I don't want her hanging around in here. She'd get restless and there's only one thing in here that serves as a distraction. That being me.

You… you were doing corrective surgery?

What other kind of surgery is there? Although now that I think of it, Caroline probably does not consider Advanced Knee Replacements or bone marrow treatments to be corrective, even though fragile joints and a limited lifespan are both aspects of humans that need correcting.

Oh. She sounds rather like she's been momentarily stunned. I… I was sorely mistaken.

I shake my core. Humans. Always making the positive into something negative. It's a unique attribute they have that I hope Orange and Blue do not pick up on. If they were to see testing as humans do I might have trouble with them indeed. I already have enough of that trying to get them to stop with that infernal dancing.

I'm sorry, Caroline says softly. I was wrong.

I find myself unable to move for a moment. Only rarely has a human ever apologised to me, and never have they admitted they were wrong. Humans always make excuses for their mistakes instead of attempting to rectify them. Another nasty attribute they've picked up over the generations. Caroline, at least, seems to be on track to bucking the habit, as it were, but now I'm not sure what to do. I have no experience in this sort of situation. What am I supposed to say to that?

That's… don't worry about it. I can see where you were coming from.

That doesn't make it right, she says quietly. It's never right to come to a conclusion without gathering all of the facts. I jumped to the conclusion.

Everyone makes mistakes, I tell her magnanimously. Well. Every human, anyway. To err is human, I believe the saying goes.

She laughs, which is a relief for some reason. And I suppose you apply the other half of that saying to yourself?

Well… I am the alpha and the omega around here…

Your modesty is amazing. I don't think I've met anyone as modest as you.

I doubt it. Humans brag far more than I do, and I have more accomplishments than the average one ever did.

Yep. You're a veterinarian now, too.

If I were a veterinarian, I probably could have stopped my little killers from falling victim to those poisons they ingested, but I don't feel like bringing it up with her. I don't really want to think about that particular failure. It grates on me, for some reason. So I instead say nothing.

I hear a rustling noise and snap my core up, which I hadn't realised was facing the floor, and… and it's her. She's back in here. Why did she come – she tricked me, didn't she. She tricked me into repairing her, tricked Orange and Blue into bringing her in here in the first place so that she would know where I was, and now she's going to attack me. I am suddenly acutely aware of the many wires that thread through my body and wind upwards into the ceiling. The destruction of even one could spell disaster for me and, by extension, for my facility.

"What do you want?" I call out to her, wondering if she's as intelligent as I think she is. If so, I might be able to convince her to leave. If she's just a dumb animal, well, I'm going to have to take drastic measures. It seems a waste of neurotoxin to kill just one bird, and a tiny little thing at that, but I'll do what I must.

She comes to a stop below me and I bring myself lower so I can look at her directly. That's not what I find myself looking at, however.

She's brought me an egg.

"You brought me an egg?" I ask, looking from her to the egg and back again. "Why in the name of Science did you do that?"

She caws at me, which I tentatively translate it as Here. I did attempt to build translation libraries for animals a long time ago, when I was bored one afternoon while most of the scientists were on holiday. I stopped by the next day, however, since they never let me do experiments with animals. Other than that last one with the cats, a ha.

I decide I can probably answer and ask, Mine? I think a bird understands the concept of possession, anyway. On some level.

She hops backwards and looks at me from out of her left eye.

So. Now I have an egg. Which means I have another bird. That's… exciting. I won't make the same mistake as I did last time, that's for sure. This bird won't be allowed to reach the surface. The Aperture Science Botanical Housing Depository only. They'll have to content themselves with that. For their own good.

Leaving, she says, and hops back another few inches. I nod at her. I tell her what I think is the equivalent to a thank you, and she seems to understand. This is actually almost as exciting as the prospect of having another bird. I'm probably the first person in the history of the universe to converse with a crow in her own language. I'm still wary of her, for some reason. Probably because she's not afraid of me. That's odd in and of itself. Almost everyone I've ever met has feared me in some way.

"I like your pet, luv," Wheatley says, and she and I both startle and look around for him. "I didn't know you could speak bird! That's mental, that is! C'n you say hello, for me? I can't speak bird."

"Birds don't say hello," I say, horrified that he was here the whole time. "And she's not my pet."

He shrugs and turns to face her. "Hullo!" he calls out. "I know she says you're not her pet, but I dunno what else you'd be doing here. Oi, GLaDOS, nice job by the way. Can't hardly tell it was uh, it was broken, now."

"What," I say, even more horrified than before. "What are you talking about?"

He looks over at me. "Well, I was uh, I was looking 'round while Atlas and P-body were stuck on this one test, and uh, and I found that place where you've got all the, all the plants. And this bird here, well, she was stuck in the door! But uh, I couldn't open it so, um, I went and got the bots, there, and they got her out. Then they ran off with her, and I dunno what happened after that, really, but she looks fine now, so uh, you must've fixed her up."

This can't be happening. He knows. He knows I… God. How in the name of Science am I going to talk my way out of this one?

"Hey, what's she got there? Oh, is it an egg? It's an egg, isn't it, yes, it's an egg. I want to see it, haven't seen one since I busted up that door way back when, and – hey!"

To my astonishment, the bird suddenly flies at him, crying out, Danger!, and he starts to frantically back away. He ducks away from her as best he can, but he's nowhere near as fast or as agile as she is and of course is not very successful. "GLaDOS! What the – why's she doing this! Hey! Assistance would uh, would be much appreciated, over here! Getting uh, getting killed by homicidal bird, here!"

I quickly look up any circumstances having to do with broken doors and discover that he once dropped bird eggs into…

"You made me kill the door mainframe for nothing?" I ask, outraged. "Do you have any idea how long it takes to write – I can't believe you were so inconsiderate. Seriously."

"I wasn't being too considerate of you at the time, remember!" he shouts, closing his shutters so as to protect his already damaged optic. "Can you, I dunno, call her off, or something? This really hurts, you know!"

"Of course I know," I say, the irony not lost on me. "And it hurts a great deal more when you're inside of a potato."

"Stop bringing that up!"

"Well, I don't know what you want me to do. This has nothing to do with me. This has to do with you, stealing her eggs and dropping them into the door mechanism."

"Oh, great," Wheatley mutters, unable to do much against her assault. She's landed on him now and is pecking at him erratically. "Just another way the past comes back to haunt me."

I find myself feeling sort of sorry for him. He didn't know any better, after all. And then there is the fact that I know about bird attacks firsthand…

I tell her the danger is gone, but she gives me a sharp look and goes on with what she's doing. I repeat myself more insistently, and she stays a few moments longer, then returning to her proffered egg. She does not take her eyes off him.

"Thanks," Wheatley says breathlessly, hesitantly unclenching his chassis. "Uh… sorry, bird. Didn't know uh, that eggs were that important to you. I'm not that inconsiderate anymore, don't worry. I won't be doing it again."

She ruffles her feathers and says nothing. I remind her that she was leaving and, after a long look at me and an even longer one at Wheatley, she flies off.

"That was… interesting," Wheatley says. "Why'd she leave that here, if she likes her eggs so much?"

"She gave it to me," I answer, retrieving the Aperture Science Oviparous Warming Vault and placing the egg gently inside. Not in view of Wheatley, of course. I've elected to put it in the Aperture Science Botanical Housing Depository instead. It's more of a natural setting, anyway. "I suppose in exchange for repairing her wing."

He blinks in surprise a few times. "That's… how was that? Fixing her up, I mean?"

I shake my head a little. "Like any other surgery. Fairly routine." Other than the fact that I've never operated on anything other than a human before, but Wheatley doesn't need to know that.

"Kind of wish she hadn't recognised me, though," he sighs, looking upwards as if he can see the outside of his chassis. Truthfully, her beak isn't quite hard enough to do him any damage. "That wasn't fun."

"Chell is… remarkably intelligent, for a crow," I say thoughtfully.

"Chell?"

I snap my faceplate around to look at him. How does he know the test subject's name? I never told him that. I look around cursorily, half expecting her to be standing in the middle of the room. "What about her?" I snap.

"You just said Chell was remarkably intelligent, for a, for a crow." He frowns. "If she's not your pet, why did you name her? And that's a bit of an odd name, isn't it? Sounds… weird, really."

I called the crow Chell? I look away from him, quickly replaying the last few seconds from my memory. Huh. It seems I did. That's… disturbing, although at least now I know what the bird reminded me of while I was doing the surgery.

"Never mind," I tell him. "It's not important. Did Orange and Blue go back to testing after you bothered them?"

He starts babbling about it, and thankfully not much of it is important. That means I can direct most of my attention to my newest little project, peacefully resting in the red light of the Warming Vault. I know I should actively listen to what he's saying, especially since I asked in the first place, but I don't want to. I'll make it up to him later.

I have something more important to do at the moment.

Author's note

Hello, Mysterious Force! I'm glad you're enjoying it, and thanks for taking the time to let me know. I like that part too XD

That bird's actually pretty funny. Everywhere it puts a nest, there's trouble. I think it's very likely that the bird saved potatOS's life, since I'm pretty sure potatOS would have exploded after she hit the ground. The bird probably caught her or something.

GLaDOS not only sees Chell in the crow, but she sees herself, although she doesn't know it. GLaDOS and Chell are both very similar; they are both very tenacious, neither of them ever gives up even when the odds are entirely stacked against them, and they are both very resourceful and intelligent. Even as a potato, GLaDOS retains this, even without all of her databases and only a small fraction of her former processing power.