In my dream, I'm in a clean, bright, white room, and I know I'm back at Aperture Science. The room is so big, the ceiling feels as distant as the sky.
There's a woman with me. She's so tall, I barely come up past her knee.
No, wait, she's not tall. I'm small.
Her presence makes me feel safe; yet somehow, at the same time, I'm terrified. Something terrible is going to happen. I've never been so afraid in my life - not even when She had grabbed me and tossed me in the old incinerator after Wheatley had accidentally revived Her. Why am I so afraid?
The woman gets down on her knees in front of me and puts her arms around me. I feel comfortable and safe in her arms. I'm not sure why, but I trust her.
"It's okay, sweetie," she says. "Don't be scared."
But I am scared. The minute she lets go of me, something terrible is going to happen, I just know it. I hug the woman back, tightly, trying to communicate to her what I can't say.
"Oh, Chell-Bell, I know you're worried," the woman says, hugging me a little tighter.
Chell-Bell. Chiming Bell. Chell. My name. In the dream, I suddenly remember that I had been named "Chell" because my mother thought I was as beautiful as the sound of a chiming bell. She had wanted to name me "Chiming Bell", but my father had been more practical and shortened it to "Chell".
"But you don't need to worry," the woman goes on to say. "Nothing bad is going to happen."
Yes it is! I want to scream. Please, don't do it, don't do it!
"You know I have to do this," the woman tells me, as though she can read my mind. "It's what your father wanted."
My father wanted people to die! I want to argue. EVERYONE dies in this place! He's dead now - stop listening to him! You know the first test subjects for ANY test in this place die!
The woman tries to pull back, but I hug her tighter; I can't let her go.
She sighs. "I know it's against your father's ways, but for your sake, I've made sure that safety measures have been taken for this experiment," she says. "Even if it doesn't work, no one will get hurt. I promise."
It won't be enough, I think. The people here don't know anything about safety. Even if you DID make sure they took safety measures, they don't even know HOW.
The woman ruffles my hair lovingly. "I know it's unusual for us to do here, but we do know what we're doing," she tells me; again, it seems like she knows what I want to say without me having to say it. "This test is safe. I promise you it's safe, Chell-Bell."
Don't do it, I think. If you love me, don't do it.
Wait…"if you love me"? Why would I think something like that…?
"You know I love you, sweetie," she says. "Whether it works or not, I won't leave you. And if it does work, then I'll be here forever. I'll never die. You'll have me right here with you for the rest of your life."
"…for the rest of your life…" I feel a chill as I recognize the same words She had used after She'd come back and recaptured me. I hold on to the woman a little tighter.
"Now sweetie, you know what your father would say if he were here," the woman says, her tone becoming a bit more stern.
Yes. Somehow, I do know what my father would say. He'd say, "It's for science."
"He'd tell you to be brave," the woman goes on. "Courage isn't the absence of fear - it's knowing that you're afraid but facing what frightens you anyway. Be brave, Chell-Bell. It's safe - and, more importantly, it's for science."
Yep. "For science." That's how everyone here justifies all the awful things they do. I can't let this woman be a test subject. She's too important to me, whoever she is - if she does this, she'll die, and I'll be all alone.
"You'll never be alone," she says. "You'll always have me, and you'll always have Aperture Science."
But I don't want Aperture Science! I hate Aperture Science! It's full of morons and lunatics, and so many awful things happen here in the name of "science". "Science"…The only thing this place has scientifically proven is that there are a lot of extremely creative ways to kill people…
"Everything's going to be fine, Chell-Bell," the woman says soothingly. "Now, I have to go - the test is scheduled to start soon."
No! I want to yell. No, don't go! Don't do the test! Please! You CAN'T do that test!
"Please let go of me, sweetie," the woman says, taking hold of my arms and pulling them off of her. I try to fight, but my arms are too small and weak.
I start crying. I can't let this happen. This nice woman is going to die, just like all the others. I can't let her do this.
She hugs me again and kisses the top of my head. "Oh, sweetheart, don't cry," she murmurs to me. "It's going to be okay."
No, it's not. I know it's not. Something is going to go wrong. I just know it.
"I have to go now, Chell-Bell," she says, pulling away again. Again, I try to hold onto her, but she pulls my arms off of her and pushes me away, gently but firmly. She's determined to go, just like all the others.
Still holding me back, she stands up. When she lets go of me and tries to turn away, I immediately grab hold of her legs. I cling to her. All I know is that I can't let her go. Something terrible is going to happen. Why can't she see that?
By now, I'm panicking. This woman can read my mind, but she doesn't think anything's going to go wrong. I know it is, but she's so certain that she'll be okay. I can't speak, can't tell her that she mustn't do this - I can only hang onto her so that she can't go. Somehow, I know that, if I can just delay her long enough for the scheduled test to run out of time, she'll be safe…
She calls for one of the morons in white coats. I don't even bother listening to what this one's name is - they're all the same, and right now, they don't matter.
"Yes, ma'am?" asks a male voice.
"Please help me with my daughter," the woman says. "I need to get to the test in time, and she's too scared to let me go."
Her daughter? Is that me? Is this woman my mother?
"Yes, ma'am," the scientist says. The next thing I know, I'm being pulled away from the woman who might be my mother. I try to fight back, but the man is too strong. I'm still too small, too weak…
"Be gentle with her," my mother tells the moron who's hanging on to me as I struggle to escape his grip.
"Yes, ma'am," the moron says.
I struggle harder, and I'm crying again. This can't be happening. I can't let this happen.
"Chell-Bell," my mother says softly.
I open my eyes and look up at her. Her face is blurry, but I can see that she's smiling at me.
"We can't lose hope that it will work," she tells me. "We can't give up. Never give up, Chell-Bell."
I'm not giving up. I'm still fighting with everything I have to break free of the dumb scientist's grip.
"I love you, Chell-Bell," my mother says.
Then she turns and walks away, shutting the door behind her.
NO! I want to scream. NO, NO, NO, NO, NO! DON'T GO!
I struggle mindlessly, giving it more than I even knew I had. I have to run after my mother and stop her. I can't give up.
"Stop it, Never-Bell," the scientist says to me. His voice is cruel and cold - nothing at all like my mother.
Never-Bell. Again, in my dream, I suddenly have memories of my life here. All the scientists at Aperture Science call me "Never-Bell" behind my mother's back. It's a joke they came up with because I don't talk.
"Chiming Bell? More like UNchiming Bell!"
"If it can't chime, is it a bell at all?"
"No, of course not - if it can't chime, it's not a bell. It might be bell-SHAPED, but a thing is defined by its function."
"She NEVER talks."
"She never 'chimes'."
"So she's not a bell."
"She'll NEVER be a bell."
"She should have been named 'Never-Bell'."
"Hey, yeah, there's a thought!"
"Never-Bell! Never-Bell! Never-Bell!" they all chant, laughing at me. They always laugh at me…
I remember the time when one of them had filled out some paperwork for my mother, and how, when she'd received it, the scientist had spelled my name "Knell". When she had asked him about it, he'd pretended to be very apologetic. He'd claimed that the handwritten note he'd gotten had been a bit messy, and that the "h" in my name had looked like an "n", so he'd assumed the "C" was a typo and turned it into a "K". But I knew it was a shortening of "Never-Bell" to "Nell", just like "Chiming Bell" had become "Chell". I knew, and I knew why they were all laughing that day. But that day, I'd been silently laughing at them, too, because a "knell" is the sound a type of bell makes. The idiots hadn't even seen the irony in their own joke.
My mother knows about their jokes, even though she doesn't confront them about it. When I had wondered why she didn't, she'd said it wouldn't accomplish anything. "The reason they can't hear you chime is because they're morons, Chell-Bell," she'd told me. "They know a lot about science, but when it comes to what really matters, they're morons. Don't pay any attention to them. I can hear you chime."
I'd never even tried to speak. Why would I want to, when the only one I'd ever want to talk to understood me without words?
But now, with my mother walking away, about to leave me all alone, I have to tell this moron to let go of me. I have to make myself speak.
"Stop struggling," the scientist tells me. "Nothing's going to happen to your mother. Just stand still and be silent, like you always do, Never-Bell."
No.
I have to tell him no. It's just one, short, simple word. I should be able to manage "no".
I try to position my mouth to make the "n" sound. My lips feel numb, like I can't control them properly. I'd never used my vocal cords - I remember that someone at some point had even theorized that they'd atrophied long ago - but I need them now.
Once I think I have my lips, teeth, and tongue positioned right, I try to push air through my mouth. Immediately, I feel a resistance, like a wall that refuses to budge. But I don't give up. I can't give up. I push harder. I even stop struggling against the arms that are holding me back so I can put all my energy into forcing myself to make a sound.
Slowly, I start to hear something. It doesn't quite sound like the "n" sound, but it's so faint, I can't really tell anyway. I know the scientist can hear me, though - his grip has gone slack. I could try to run now, but I know he'd just grab onto me again, unless I can make myself speak. I push harder.
Slowly, the noise I'm making gets louder; as it gets louder, it sounds more and more like the "n" sound:
"…n-n-n…nnn…nnnnn…nnnNN…N-N-N…!"
I'm so close. I just have to keep pushing like this while moving my mouth into the position it needs to be in to make the "o" sound…
"…NNN…NNNNN…!"
Almost there…
I'm just about to say my first word, when suddenly, I hear a woman scream, and I know it's my mother.
I'm too late.
The scream gets louder and more tortured. I close my eyes and cover my ears, trying to drown out the gut-wrenching sound, but it doesn't help. Then, suddenly, the scream changes into the one She'd made when She had been removed from Her body so Wheatley could replace Her - a scream that no sane being, AI or natural, could make. Whoever's screaming is literally going insane from the agony they're in. The noise rips through me, and I start to feel pain, too.
I don't want to, but I open my eyes. The room is gone, as is the scientist who was holding on to me. There's just darkness.
Then I see the woman who's screaming Her scream. I still can't make out her face, but I know she's the woman who was my mother. She's screaming because someone is sawing her head off. Even once she's been beheaded, she still screams. I watch, helpless and horrified, as a man in a white lab coat picks up the disembodied, screaming head, and sticks it on what I recognize as Her "body"…
With a gasp, I lurch up into a sitting position as my eyes open, and I break out of the nightmare.
