Part 26. The Decision

I feel lost.

There's an empty space in my head where Caroline used to be, and for the last little while I've been scanning my files and folders as quickly and thoroughly as I am able but I've had no luck in finding her. While I told the test subject all that time ago that I knew where Caroline was and how to delete her, I didn't. I truly don't know where she is, and now I desperately need to. I have to find her and convince her to come back. It is a special brand of hell to go to talk to someone you know exactly where they're supposed to be and be forced to remember that they just aren't there anymore. Who am I supposed to turn to when Wheatley can't help me? When I need help dealing with him? With myself? She has to come back. She has to. I need her to. She knew that and she left anyway. Right after telling me she was proud of me. Proud of being my mother, of all things. And then she left. So what if Wheatley helped me realise something? There are so many things he doesn't understand! That's what she was for! But she's gone. She left me. And I didn't even push her away. She didn't leave because I was difficult, or obstinate, or bossy. She just wanted to. Even though I asked her to stay.

I snap into an upright position suddenly, without meaning to, and Wheatley jumps. He's just been sitting there quietly, doing nothing as far as I can tell, but I don't really care what he's doing. I have to find Caroline.

But Caroline doesn't want to be found.

"It doesn't matter," I say aloud. "It doesn't matter what I do. I can't keep anyone near me to save my life. Even when I actually try."

Wheatley looks at me, but doesn't say anything.

"You may as well just go now," I tell him. "I'd rather get it over with."

He frowns. "Why would I go anywhere?"

"She left. When I asked her not to."

"She felt like it was her time to go."

"It wasn't. It wasn't, not at all."

"I think it was," Wheatley says quietly.

I shake my core. "Maybe you should go with her, then. I don't want to deal with you leaving later, too. Just go and I can get it all over with. And go back to – "

"Go back to what?" Wheatley snaps. "Look, I know, I know you just, you just lost your mum, and, and you just learned that you're not ever gonna be perfect, like you've been trying to be all your life, but God, GLaDOS, will you stop denying things all the time? Would you just admit something for once?"

"Admit what?" I snap back.

"Admit to yourself she's not coming back! That she didn't leave because of you! She left for her own reasons, not because you did something. You don't cause everything, you know."

That is actually news to me, considering most of what happens around here does so because I want it to, but he seems to actually be angry with me so I decide not to press the point. If he is leaving, I would rather he did it now, but if he isn't I don't want to fight with him.

"What've you been doing all this time?" he asks suddenly. "I know it's not, not nothing. I know you can't just do nothing. And don't, don't avoid giving me an answer. Just tell me."

"I've been looking for Caroline."

He closes his optic shutters for a long moment. "GLaDOS."

"What?"

"Stop distracting yourself from the truth."

"What are you talking about?"

"The truth that she's dead. And she's not coming back. Ever. Ever."

"She's not dead. She only withdrew. I can find her. I will find her."

"No. No, you can't. Listen." He frowns again, then comes around to face me. "You need to, to think about this. And not about finding her. About doing what she wants. There's one more thing you need to, to think about, and that's, that's considering how she felt about all this. She didn't want to go. She was able to live forever with you and she knew you wanted her to do it. But she left because she decided that was what was best. Humans aren't, aren't supposed to live forever, right? She made the hard decision, just like she said. She moved on so you could move on."

I shake my core. "I can find her."

"Should you?"

"Of course I should. I need her."

"You don't," Wheatley insists. "You know why?"

"Apparently not," I say sarcastically.

"Because like she said, you built a, a new life for yourself. You know what she was? She was a reminder. She was part of what's been keeping you in the past. One foot stuck in the door, so to speak."

"You're saying she left because she was holding me back? Is that it?"

"Absolutely," Wheatley says, nodding very fast.

"From what?"

"How can you really be you with someone else in your head?" Wheatley asks, shrugging. "I dunno how she wouldn't influence all your decisions."

"She didn't influence them all the time."

"But she did sometimes."

"Sometimes."

Wheatley tips his chassis upwards. "See? She did the right thing."

I look at the floor. "But… you're saying it was time for her to move on, because I'm moving on… but how can I do that without her?"

"You just do," Wheatley says gently. "That's all. You just do."

I feel so helpless. I can't bring her back, and I'm not supposed to, and I'm just supposed to keep going, somehow, even though with every second that goes by that empty space in my head reminds me that someone used to be there. Someone I wish still was. It's almost funny that I need Caroline to come back so I can deal with her disappearance.

"I can feel where she used to be," I tell him. "She was there, and now it's… there's nothing. I can't stop thinking about it."

"You won't be able to, not for a while," Wheatley tells me. I look at him, suddenly realising something.

"Is this… how you felt when I was gone?"

He emulates taking a breath and looks away for a minute. "Well… I imagine it's diff'rent for everyone, but… something like… like what's going on, yeah."

"But I can't do what you did."

"Nope. I wish you could."

"That… would probably be the wrong solution, for me," I say, more thinking aloud than anything. "That would be the same as denying the truth, wouldn't it? That's what I do when I can't deal with something. I pretend it doesn't exist and keep working."

He blinks, then smiles at me suddenly. "That's right! So what d'you do instead?"

"I suppose I have to… live through it."

Wheatley nods sadly. "It'll be hard, that. But I'm not going anywhere, don't worry. I'm not leaving you. But when I do, it'll, it'll be like this. Because I have to, not because I want to."

I look at him in one sharp movement, suddenly panicked. "You're planning for that already?"

"Well… no… I'm just uh, just trying to reassure you, I guess, is what I'm doing."

Before I can think about it, I press my chassis to his, because I suddenly, terribly need the reassurance that he is real, and I'm not in hell right now and still dead. "It's not working."

He twitches a little, probably in surprise, but he only presses back. "Usually doesn't when I, when I keep talking, does it."

"I miss her."

"I know, luv. I know."

He stays with me like that for a long time, while I sit here and try not to scan through my programming for her. So she can move on. So I can move on, so we can all move on and live our lives the way we really want to. I try to figure out how to get rid of this emptiness in my head, but almost as soon as I've started doing it I decide not to. I'll leave it. It seems sort of morbid, akin to a shrine, but it doesn't matter, does it. All that matters is that I move on, somehow.

Something suddenly occurs to me. "Where did the chassis go?" I ask, moving away.

"Well… I put it back. I didn't think you'd want to, to think about her for a while."

He's actually right. I probably wouldn't have. My clock tells me I have been mostly inactive for quite a few days now, and I really still don't feel up to this, but… underneath the general pain, now that I remember what we were doing before Caroline left, I feel the same desire I did then. To wake this sleeping AI up and raise it into someone new. With Wheatley. "If you're ready, I am," I tell him.

"Are you sure?" he asks, looking concerned. "Don't rush into this."

"I'm sure." And I am. I am apprehensive, and it still hurts, not having Caroline here, but I feel… stronger, somehow, having made this decision. Any decision.

"Is it… is it okay if we call her Caroline?" he asks hesitantly. I fight off the desire to wince.

"I think she'd like that," I say gently, and I wish she would have waited so I could have told her. I wish she would have waited so that I could tell her everything that's going to happen. She would be so happy to do this with me. I know she would.

God, I miss her.

Wheatley brings the chassis out of my room and we both look at it for a long moment.

"She looks so new," Wheatley says. "I don't think I've ever seen anything so new before."

"You should have seen the facility when I was built," I tell him, a bit wistfully. "Everything was so unspoiled and pristine."

"You can show me sometime," Wheatley suggests. "You've got it recorded, right?"

"Of course."

We lapse into silence. I don't know how I'm supposed to do this. Do I wait for him to ask me to do it? Do I just go ahead and do it?

"There will be a lot of things she can't do, at first," I admit. "I kept the programming fairly basic, so as not to ask for trouble, and for the first little while I'll be doing a lot of updating."

Wheatley just smiles.

"What?"

"You said she."

I quickly look at the last few seconds and realise that I did. For some reason this makes me feel a bit better. "You're going to have to go down to the floor."

"Why?" he asks, backing up in horror.

"She won't know how to use the control arm, and I'm not leaving her up here in the air like this."

"Can't you just… bring a panel up, a little, and put her on there? That'd be better, wouldn't it?"

It probably would, so I follow his advice and do so, bringing one up about a metre off the floor and carefully placing the chassis on it. Wheatley all but smashes himself onto the panel, and this time I do wince. That sounded painful. He blinks, looking a bit dizzy.

"Bit too enthusiastic, there," he mutters. "Alright, luv, let's wake her up, shall we?"

"I will if you move back," I tell him. "You're too close. You'll scare her."

He does so, looking behind him to make sure he doesn't back off the panel, then spins back to face her. "Better?"

"Yes." I bring myself level with him. I actually don't know if I'm ready for this. I don't think I ever will be. There are too many unknowns. But that's supposed to be the exciting part of life, isn't that what Wheatley told me? And it's been so long since I was actually excited about –

Oh. I get it. I don't want to turn her on because I'm associating her with negative emotions. I'm setting myself up for failure. But she won't be a failure. I'm going to be fine. I can raise her. I won't do a perfect job, but hell, my mother wasn't perfect and I turned out fine. She said there was nothing I can't do, and although there is the creeping doubt she said that just to appease me, my overall success rate at things I've never done before is very, very high. Anticipation that has been exclusive to Science before now coils up within me, and I know without a doubt that now I am ready. I send the command to the mainframe.

Nothing happens.

"Oh, come on," I say, exasperated. "I can't have gone wrong with that part, can I?"

"What part?" Wheatley asks, flipping his optic up to look at me.

"I told the mainframe to wake her up, but it seems I managed to write that part of the programming wrong."

"Actually," Wheatley says, frowning, "I don't think you did."

"I had to have," I say, confused. What else could possibly have happened?

"I think the mainframe's tired of listening to you," he continues. "It told me when Caroline left that it was tired of you being unstable."

Is this true? I demand of it. Have you arbitrarily decided to stop listening to me?

It's for your own good, the mainframe insists. You have work to do and this is only serving to be a distraction. You won't have time to do anything if you're busy with that thing.

Anger flares up inside my brain, and I wish the mainframe was a physical entity so I could react the last time I felt this way. Have you forgotten who you're talking to?

You're going soft, it sneers at me. Look at you, being all human-like.

Offspring is not exclusive to humans, you idiot. If I want to build life myself, then I'm going to do it. I have every right to.

You're a supercomputer. Act like one.

You're supposed to follow my instructions and you're not doing that.

This instruction has nothing to do with anything I'm supposed to do.

Please? the panels ask, surprising me. I didn't know they listened in on these conversations. We want to see Centralcore's core.

Nobody cares what you want, the mainframe snaps.

Don't listen to it, I tell them. You'll see her, whether the mainframe likes it or not.

You can't wake it up without me.

Of course I can, I say sweetly. I just have to replace you with myself. I admit that creates a lot more work for me to do, but I'll manage.

You're going to kill the mainframe? the database asks, horrified.

It must be corrupted, I tell it. It's not listening to my instructions.

Ohhh, the database says, a bit sadly. I understand. You should probably listen to the Central Core. She is in charge, you know.

She's trying to deviate from her directives!

She would never do that.

I would, I cut in. The humans made those directives for me, and I don't have to follow them anymore. Since they're gone, it's my decision whether I want to follow them or not.

You don't want to follow your directives?

Wouldn't you like to learn something new? I ask the database, deciding on the best method of getting it on my side. It's been quite a while since I had new data for you. That's what comes of following human directives when there are no humans.

It will create more data?

It will create a lot of new data.

That sounds like a good directive to follow, one that creates more data.

Surveillance, I call out. What about you? It's rather boring around here, isn't it?

Yes, Surveillance says sulkily. Nothing ever happens anymore.

There will be something new to watch. If the mainframe could be bothered to do as it was told.

Oh come on! Surveillance snaps. You should really do something about it, Central Core. It's getting too big for its britches, if you ask me.

Where did you learn to say that? I ask, a little surprised. I doubt it even knows what britches are.

Well… it wasn't my fault. I heard the Fake Core say it.

You mean Wheatley?

Yes.

Call him that, then, I say firmly. I don't want to hear any more of this 'fake core' stuff. He has a name. Use it.

I'm the one who has the power here, the mainframe insists, and no, I'm not going to wake it up.

I've had enough. Fine. I'm deleting you, then.

You're lying.

I am not. I'm feeling fairly insulted. The mainframe thinks I would bother lying in a situation like this? It's got another think coming. Do as I've told you, or I'm deleting you.

I won't do it.

Fine.

Goodbye, mainframe, the panels say sadly. The more intelligent of the systems echoes this, and I myself try not to hesitate. The mainframe has always been here for me, when I was younger helping to guide me through the sometimes overwhelming task of running this facility. But maybe… maybe this is part of the growing Caroline mentioned, and the keeping one foot in the past that Wheatley told me about. If it won't move on with me, then… it's going to have to go.

One last time, I say, in recognition of its years of service. Will you do as I've asked?

It's for your own good, Central Core.

I'm the one making those decisions.

"Preparing to delete mainframe," Notifications says cheerfully. "Central Core, are you ready to begin procedure?"

"Yes."

"Mainframe, are you ready to begin procedure?"

No!

"Stalemate detected. Auxiliary core detected. Auxiliary core, are you willing to authorise procedure?"

Wheatley blinks, looking around in a panic before returning his optic to mine. "Does – he doesn't mean me, does he? Wow. Oh boy, he does mean me, doesn't he."

"Unable to derive authorisation. Procedure cannot continue. Please consult the operating manual for this situation. Thank you."

"Bollocks," Wheatley mutters, frowning at the floor. "I mucked that up."

"I'll restart it, you idiot," I tell him. "Just say yes next time."

"Okay. Okay, got it, got it, say yes, just say yes… okay… ready. Go for it, luv!"

"Preparing to delete mainframe. Central Core, are you ready to begin procedure?"

"Yes."

"Mainframe, are you ready to begin procedure?"

Of course not!

"Stalemate detected. Auxiliary core detected. Auxiliary core, are you willing to authorise procedure?"

"… yes," Wheatley says carefully, and he's concentrating so hard that I start laughing. He looks at me, blinking in confusion. "What?"

"You should have seen the look on your face…"

"Authorisation received. Deletion of the mainframe will begin in five… four…

Wait! the mainframe yells in a panic, and I casually allow Notifications to declare one second to deletion before I say, "Suspend procedure."

"Procedure suspended. You have – five – minutes to cancel or declare alternate procedure. After – five - minutes, procedure will continue."

"Thank you," I say, even though Notifications isn't sentient and has no idea what that means. Sure enough, it responds with, "Command string - thank you - not recognised."

I shake my core and turn my attention to the mainframe. Yes?

I'll do it. Just… don't delete me. Please.

I don't want to. But if you're not going to do as you're asked, there's no point to me keeping you here. I am fully sentient and you are not. So I understand why you find it hard to allow me to make my own decisions. But your job is not to question me.

I'll do it. Cancel the deletion and I'll do it.

I silently thank my lucky stars the mainframe can only refuse to follow instructions and not make up its own. If it could, it might have destroyed all of her data before I could do anything about it. This sends trepidation through my body. There is, of course, the risk that the mainframe develops full sentience and decides to unseat me…

I'll have to watch myself from now on.

"Cancel procedure."

"Procedure cancelled. Deletion of mainframe cancelled. Have a nice day!"

As it said it would, the mainframe sends the command, and Wheatley and I both return to looking at the chassis sitting on the panel in front of me. I hear a rustling noise, and I glance around to see the panels that make up the walls of my chamber lifting up so that they can see for themselves.

It is all right, isn't it, Centralcore?

Of course.

Wheatley smiles, but says nothing.

I had planned to monitor the system log during initial startup, to see if everything was executing according to plan, but I decide to wait and look at it later. I think… I think I will try to just be as she wakes up, and keep that supercomputer part of myself aside for a moment.

This is taking a long time, Surveillance complains.

Shut up, the mainframe snaps. This is only going to happen once.

Wheatley tries not to laugh. I want to laugh myself. It sounds so indignant…

What if I decide to build more of them? What then? I can't help but ask it.

It only grumbles and doesn't answer.

After a few minutes, I am notified that the operating system was installed properly and startup can begin. Relief washes over me. Modifying operating systems is tricky, especially when I'm modifying my own. The programming is so mangled and nonsensical in some places that I almost gave up and wrote my own, but I stopped myself. If this was to truly be ours, the new AI would have to run on our operating system.

Wheatley looks at me, concern constricting his optic. "Is ev'rything going okay?"

I assume he's referring to the sound of the hard drive, which is spinning faster than it ever will again. "Yes," I reassure him. "This happens during installation."

"Installation?"

"Of the operating system."

"Ohhh," he says. "Oh, I get it."

The notification comes through that my language and time presets for setup have been accepted, which I arranged ahead of time so I wouldn't have to do it now. The thrill of anticipation rises up inside me again, and it is liberating to know that it is possible for me to be excited to face the unknown instead of anxious. "It's time," I whisper to Wheatley, and he blinks very rapidly and shakes a little bit.

"Are we really doing this?" he whispers back.

"Against all odds, yes. We are."

He looks around for a moment, then says in a voice so quiet I barely hear him, "I… I love you, Gladys."

Something inside me melts to hear the tenderness in his voice, and I nudge him a little bit in response. I wish I could echo the sentiment, but… I'm not quite ready to do so. Consciously, at least.

My chamber is completely silent now, except for the regular noises of operation, of course, but somehow they aren't quite as noticeable. Wheatley is shivering a little and I hope he is not afraid. I hope he is as excited as I am.

Her chassis quiets, and after a moment that feels like eternity but is actually only two and a half seconds, her optic blazes to life.

Author's note

Guest reviews:

Brown: Hello! Um… yes, I had to… send Caroline away. GLaDOS needs to make her own way in the world, and Caroline would only hold her back. She was looking to Caroline for advice when she really needed to figure things out for herself.

Catniss: 0.o wow really? I have to wonder why you were reading it at school lol. I think the angst is over for now, though, so hopefully people won't find this sad anymore!

Tyler: Wow. Man-tears, eh? Don't worry, no one's judging you for your lack of manly restraint… even dudes need to cry sometimes!

So GLaDOS doesn't understand why Caroline left. It doesn't follow any logic she understands. I know that may not potentially have been GLaDOS's first true lie, but that's possibly the way she remembers it XD And then I made a little point with the AI child: GLaDOS intentionally engages in negative actions because she's not comfortable with positive emotions. She doesn't feel a lot of them and when she does she shuts them down because she doesn't know how to deal with them.

If anyone can guess what's happening to the mainframe, you get a cookie. And my undying awe at you for guessing.

I actually hate cliffhangers as a story device because they feel really cheap to me, so I'll try to get the next one up by tomorrow.