I wake up with a start, gasping for air. It takes a minute for my eyes to blink away my dream and see the clear blue sky above me. Then, I remember that I'm outside, far away from Her, and haven't been in contact with Her deadly neurotoxin in days.

"Are you okay, Chell?"

I close my eyes again and lie back, forcing myself to calm down. Yes, I think at my Companion Cube. I just had a bad dream, that's all.

"Chell?"

I open my eyes again. I'm fine, I tell him, confused; he sounds like he didn't hear me.

"Chell, please talk to me."

I sit up and look at him. Can you hear me? I ask.

"Please pick me up and talk to me," the cube says.

I reach over and pick him up. Couldn't you hear me? I ask him again.

"Oh, Chell, thank god," he says, sounding relieved. "No, I couldn't hear you - I can't read your neural activity unless you're touching me."

What's the point of that? I wonder, not intentionally directing my thoughts at him. We can't always be touching.

"It's not a simple thing, sensing and translating all the neural activity in a human's body," the cube says, almost indignantly. "It's very tricky. I need a point of contact with some of your nerve endings so I can trace the signals. As for us not always touching, I'm your Companion Cube - you're supposed to take me with you everywhere you go."

Oh. I feel more than a little sheepish. Of course it would be tricky for something to read my mind. I'm sorry.

"That's okay," the cube says, all traces of indignation gone. "You've never been told anything about what it means to have a Companion Cube."

I feel a pang of guilt at his words; after all, it's my own fault. I'm sorry I threw you in the incinerator, I tell him.

"As the turrets would say, no hard feelings," the cube reassures me. "She wasn't going to let you proceed until you got rid of me, and to be honest, I wanted you to go on."

You did? I think, surprised. Why?

"Because I was reading your mind the entire time we were going through that test chamber," he replies. "I didn't speak to you because I could tell that you didn't need me to - you were already getting suspicious of Her without a word from me, and you were more than clever enough to solve the entire puzzle on your own. I knew you wouldn't end up like the others - I knew you would be the one to stop Her and save us all."

Instead of making me feel better, though, my cube's words only add to my guilt. Yes, I'd stopped Her way back when, but just a few days ago I'd put Her back in charge and walked away…

"Yes, but you gave Her a taste of humanity first," the cube says, having obviously listened in on my guilty thoughts. "I heard what you were thinking about two days ago, and I can assure you that deleting Her humanity isn't as easy for Her to do as you might think - it will always be a part of Her now. Oh, She'll try to fight it," he adds before I can put my skepticism into words. "She'll try to pretend it's not there, to carry on just like She used to; but I can guarantee you, it is still in there, and it always will be."

How do you know? I wonder.

"Human minds don't work the same way us AI do," my cube replies. "Even translated into computer-program format, a human consciousness has a level of persistence that even She won't be able to eliminate."

I still wonder how my Companion Cube could possibly know this. After all, it's not as though he had ever had a human mind dumped into him…

And that's when it finally occurs to me.

How do I know you're really talking to me? I ask the Companion Cube. I'm starving and lonely - I could just be imagining your voice.

"You're not as starving as you were yesterday," the cube protests. "I can feel that that plant you ate last night gave you some sustenance."

I take a moment to consider this, and that's when I notice that the ache in my stomach is different from what it was yesterday. It still hurts, but it's less of a hollow ache and more of a stomach pain now. Also, my mind is a bit clearer than it had been yesterday. Still…

Tell me something I can't possibly know, I think at my Companion Cube. Something I couldn't dream up.

"What would you like to know?" he asks.

I think for a moment. Tell me Her name, I decide. I don't know that.

"Oh," the cube says hesitantly. "I'd…rather not…"

Please tell me Her name, I beg of him. I need to know you're real.

The cube is silent for a minute.

"Oh, alright," he says at last. "I won't say Her name, but I'll spell it out for you: G-L-A-D-O-S."

I put the letters together in my head. The word feels familiar, like I've seen it before. When I mentally sound it out, I remember that that's what She had been called in my dream just last night.

I already dreamed that up, I think at my Companion Cube. That doesn't prove anything.

"You must have seen or heard it somewhere before," the cube says, and I can't disagree.

Why would She be called that? I ask - this is something I can't begin to imagine.

"It's an acronym," the cube replies. "It stands for 'Genetic Lifeform and Disk Operating System'."

So G-L-a-D-O-S, I think, and suddenly I remember where I've seen it before: Her silly trap that even She hadn't thought I would fall for, with the fake door that had said "GLaDOS Emergency Shutdown and Cake Dispensary - Keep Unlocked". Still, I couldn't have known what it stands for, or even that it's an acronym.

Okay, I believe you, I think at my Companion Cube. Still…why would she be called a 'genetic lifeform'?

"I wouldn't know," the cube replies; "Her creators named her long before I was built."

Caroline… I think, and I remember my dream again. Do you know if these dreams I've been having are actually memories? I ask the cube - I don't think they are, but it's possible, I guess, and that bothers me. You say you can read the neurons firing in my brain; can you tell if these dreams are connected to real memories I might have once had?

"Not at this point in time," he replies. "Because you don't remember them as memories, but do remember them as dreams, at the moment, they're stored in your recent memory. If I had been touching you while you were having one of those dreams, then I might have an answer."

I'll keep that in mind, I think at him - I've had one of those dreams almost every night since I escaped Aperture Science, so I'm pretty sure I'll have one again soon. I decide that, the next time I go to sleep, I'll make sure I'm holding onto him.

I stand up, still holding my Companion Cube - I've been talking with him for too long, and I have a forest to explore now. As I start to walk towards the forest, the cube speaks up again.

"Should you take some of this plant with you?" he asks me. "You did get some sustenance from it, after all."

The seeds I ate were really tough, and I don't feel much better today, I reply. Still…yeah, I guess I should. Maybe if we find a pond or something, I'll be able to soak them - that would probably make them easier to chew.

I set him down and start gathering stalks of yellow grass, crawling on the ground so I can move with my hands relatively free. I slept for a long time, so it's already late morning, and the sun quickly reminds me that I haven't had anything to drink since early yesterday. Still, because it's so late, there's no dew, so I can't do anything about it.

When I've gathered as much of the plant as I think I can carry along with my Companion Cube, I crawl back over to him and pick him up again. It's around noon now - I guess - so I don't have much time to explore the forest and find a place in there to spend the night. I don't know why, but come to think of it, I share my Companion Cube's apprehension about exploring a forest when it's dark.

As soon as I get to the edge of the field, I notice that the yellow grass cuts off in a distinct, straight line, and the forest begins at a likewise distinct point. I don't know how I know it, but that probably isn't natural.

Out of pure curiosity, I turn and follow the distinct border towards the trees that were to my left. When I reach those, I find that they cut off at a distinct border as well, and that the two borders meet to form a very sharp, square-looking corner.

That's odd.

There must be some humans close by, I think. I take a second to consider things and realize that this plant I've been walking through must be something humans are deliberately growing, and probably tending to. If I can find whoever's tending this field, I won't have to wander aimlessly anymore.

"That sounds good, but how do you know humans are keeping an eye on this field right now?" my Companion Cube asks. "This field could have been made years ago."

No, I tell him; the plants would grow out of control without someone keeping an eye on them - the border wouldn't be this distinct.

"If you say so," the cube says dubiously.

If these plants are something humans are cultivating, then maybe they are supposed to be food, I think. At any rate, I can't go too far from this field - my best chances of finding someone are here.

"You still need water, though," the cube points out; "plus, there might be something more clearly edible in the forest."

I agree with him, so I cross the line to my right and step under the trees.