Left!
I jerked to the left!
An ominous red beam lanced through the space I had just vacated. Its faint hum echoed in my ears as it singed the spot where I had stood moments ago, reminding me of the fate I narrowly avoided. My eyes traced its path, climbing up the high ceiling of the sterile, white room – an unwelcome welcome gift the portal I had just stepped through.
My gaze lingered on the aperture at the ceiling's zenith. I squinted, struggling to catch a glimpse of the infernal machinery lurking beyond it – the Aperture Science Thermal Discouragement Beam Emitter, as my newfound memories kindly informed me.
I glanced to the right. An unassuming alcove adorned one of the room's eight walls, not so tall and broad as to be immediately noticeable but peculiar enough to draw the eye. Two more of the ominous beams poured from emitters housed in its ceiling, tracing a pair of glowing, red lines down to the room's gleaming floor.
One beam hit the ground unimpeded. The other seemed to disappear into nothingness, swallowed by an eerie, shimmering hole. But it didn't cease – rather, it re-emerged from the similar hole puncturing the ceiling, completing an unnerving loop. A portal.
I felt a strange sensation, a tingle that ran down my spine, resonating with the True Magic I had acquired. It was like a sixth sense, an intuition for detecting the portals. There were others – many others – and something else, something similar yet different.
Back!
The command rippled through my consciousness, an impulse too sudden and strong to be of my own making. Without thought, I obeyed, stepping backward just in time. The sanguine streak of the Thermal Discouragement Beam seared the air before me, a deadly heat that I had narrowly avoided.
A peripheral flicker drew my attention - a second portal had blossomed into existence in the alcove, and another one on the wall beside it.
Aperture Science had found an interesting way to address the beam emitter's mobility issue. Instead of creating mobile emitters, they used portals to guide the beam's path. It was an elegant solution, though undeniably a costly one. The main expense was the Aperture Science Handheld Quantum Tunneling Device, better known by Bob the Janitor's catchy nickname - the portal gun. Bob's coinage had stuck and was now widely used.
Amidst the surplus of portal guns in our possession, I'd proposed repurposing some to enhance the Central AI Chamber's security. A far more formidable defense than a rudimentary rocket turret, I'd argued. Brother had agreed, giving the nod to my innovative plan.
The process had begun. My memories were synchronizing.
Synchronizing. The voice echoed in my consciousness, the same voice that had issued warnings before. An intrinsic part of me now, an internal guide in an external world.
Synchronizing. A different voice, this time. It resonated with an air of royalty, as if each syllable were woven with threads of gold and purple.
Synchronizing. A third voice, serene and steady. Its monotone calm was almost mind-numbing, a lullaby of patience in a restless environment.
Voices. Multiple voices echoed within me, their origins a mystery, their purpose uncertain.
Yet, there was no cause for alarm. These voices did not signify a disintegrating mind. The cryptic bureaucrat hadn't deceived me.
The body that I had received as a sign-up bonus, and the mind that came with it, we well worth the bargain.
Physically, I was imposing - tall, broad-shouldered, my sun-kissed blond hair cropped short, though I fancied letting it grow longer. My face was aesthetically pleasing, with features too refined to be classified as traditionally handsome, and ice-blue eyes that pierced through the fabric of reality.
My mind, however, was a fortress of knowledge. It housed not just one, but four doctorates. A Ph.D. in computing was a universal feat, but the other three?
They were exclusive to this time, this place - Aperture. They sprawled across the esoteric realms of quantum tunneling, artificial personality constructs, and multiverse search algorithms. The final one was currently a playground of theories and hypotheses. But not for long, I presumed.
But there was more to my capabilities than the realm of theory. I possessed the proficiency to transform knowledge into tangible projects. My unique aptitude was the driving force that had propelled the project in this room to completion, almost a decade ahead of the most optimistic projections. Sadly, it was a mere few days too late to save my brother.
I had come to know myself as Alexander Johnson, the younger sibling, and legal heir to the recently deceased Cave Johnson, the luminary who had breathed life into Aperture, transforming the small company that produces shower curtains into basion of progress.
Yet, more pressing than my identity were the bodiless voices that only I could hear. The voices were the offspring of the same research that birthed GLaDOS.
And what exactly was GLaDOS?
GLaDOS was the scientific victory against the merciless march of mortality.
GLaDOS signified the dawn of human transcendence, the inception of a new era where the frailty of flesh would be replaced by the impeccable efficiency of machinery.
GLaDOS, an acronym for Genetic Lifeform and Disk Operating System, was an artificial intelligence designed to propel Aperture Science into a new epoch of prosperity.
And finally, in a twist of irony, GLaDOS was currently attempting to end my life. That was a development that had not been accounted for in my plans.
Step back, the initial voice commanded again. I obliged, stepping backward. A shower of gore and debris narrowly missed me. A heavy metal cube, accompanied by an unfortunate corpse, plummeted from the ceiling.
A simple manifestation of physics. A portal was positioned beneath the cube, its twin suspended over the target. Gravity took care of the rest. While effective, it did create quite a mess.
I found myself needing new team members for the GLaDOS project. Not merely because one colleague had been grotesquely splattered, another charred to a crisp, and a third met an untimely end by a sword. I paused. Where had that sword come from? And why did its design, its very essence, seem so familiar?
Regardless, there were more pressing issues at hand. For instance, the first act GLaDOS had performed upon activation was an attempt to wipe out everyone within reach, an endeavor it nearly achieved.
That was far from the intended plan. GLaDOS was designed to exhibit discernment, not rampant destruction. Moreover, it was supposed to possess little more than the ability to communicate. The mystery of how it had gained control over the room's security system still loomed large.
A sudden realization flashed in my mind. GLaDOS was programmed to adhere to all relevant guidelines. I seized on this and said, "GLaDOS, killing human employees is against company policy."
That particular policy had been implemented in the aftermath of an unfortunate budgetary dispute that escalated into a minor war, pitting genetically engineered mantis assassins against killer robot toilets.
Such a method of determining superior weaponry was certainly unique but extravagantly expensive. Aperture Science wasn't the powerhouse it once was. However, that was a status quo I intended to disrupt. Under my leadership, the company would not only reclaim its former glory but also ascend to even greater heights.
The retort from GLaDOS was immediate, "Company policy allows for exceptions under certain circumstances. For instance, if an employee attempts to abscond with Aperture Science property, classified data, or test subjects."
Once the company was back on its feet, my next objective was to purchase Black Mesa and thereby, save the world. I always knew allowing them to be a primary defense contractor would invite an invasion of the United States. I had just anticipated the invaders to be Russians, not aliens from another dimension.
This wish belonged to Alexander "Ace" Johnson, and with his body, mind, and memories, I'd inherited it too. The moment I had set foot in this new world, as conveyed by the shady bureaucrat, I was bound to the task I had agreed to undertake for his assistance.
"In the event an employee is deemed a danger to the company due to self-experimentation side effects, a psychotic break, or a crisis of conscience," GLaDOS continued.
Duck, the first voice whispered. I obliged, slipping under a beam in a move reminiscent of a lethal limbo game, a grim echo of our company's last New Year's party.
These voices—I'd been about to explain them before being so rudely interrupted.
As I mentioned earlier, they were an unintended byproduct of the project that birthed GLaDOS, more precisely, the mind-machine interface.
GLaDOS represented a human mind transposed into a computer system; the voices I was hearing were the reverse of that process.
Although, I couldn't ascertain the extent of human memories GLaDOS retained. She had massacred most of my team before we could adequately test that. A mental note to myself: Determine if GLaDOS recalls being Caroline. This information was vital if I intended to market this procedure to wealthy elders seeking immortality.
"And if an employee is found to be an undercover government inspector, a communist, or a witch," GLaDOS retorted.
While we had endeavored to transpose human consciousness into a computer, we also stumbled upon a method to implant digital data directly into the human brain. The field bore immense potential if we could somehow manage to reduce the severity and incidence of resulting brain damage. Trauma was a consistent issue, regardless of the direction of transference.
The Aperture Science Artificial Personality Constructs, or simply Personality Cores, were preliminary prototypes of artificial intelligence we developed before GLaDOS. Though their capabilities were more limited, we discovered multiple applications for them.
They served as lab assistants, accountants, flashlights, and for a more experimental purpose—three of them were uploaded into my mind.
Arnold was the Danger Prediction Core. Incredibly useful in situations like the one I currently found myself in, but without an immediate threat, he had a tendency to devolve into paranoia.
Leo was the Leadership Core. He excelled at compelling people to follow his decisions, though his decision-making ability itself was questionable. However, he did help me remember people's names.
Boaz was the Meticulous Core. He was excellent at reviewing every minute detail and analyzing all data. However, he was slow and lacked creativity, making him perfect for identifying errors in code and bureaucratic work. Just never ask him to write poetry.
"During testing. Testing of the Central AI Control Chamber's security is currently in progress. For the next part of the test, please remain perfectly still," GLaDOS stated.
Lie. Don't stand still, Arnold warned. His advice was hardly groundbreaking.
I leaped forward as a portal materialized directly under my feet.
Dodging won't suffice. You need to retaliate, Leo suggested. But damaging or destroying GLaDOS too severely was out of the question. The cost was exorbitant.
I dodged another beam, missing it by less than a handspan. Perhaps I could try to disable the portal guns. But even they were prohibitively expensive. Maybe disabling the Aperture Science Multitasking Arms, the structures to which the portal guns were attached, was a better idea. Those were more affordable.
Your hand, Boaz finally suggested.
My hand?
I had been clutching my smartphone amid all the chaos, completely forgotten. World transfer had altered it. Now, it resembled an iPhone.
"Regrettably, your survival beyond the ten-second mark constitutes a test failure."
I quickly took stock - my smartphone, Elven longsword, and Mystic Code, were each in a state of quantum superposition, each one existing and influencing the others, yet only one could be actualized at any given time.
"Aperture Science protocol now reclassifies you as an intruder. In line with the Castle Doctrine, the deployment of lethal countermeasures against intruders is both legal and forthcoming."
With a subtle effort of will, I shifted the quantum state from the smartphone to the Elven longsword.
Arnold, direct me to one of the portal guns, I silently requested.
Head for the one on your left, near the entrance lobby, Arnold advised. You'll have to move fast!
The unsettling sensation of turning my back to the main body of GLaDOS was necessary - its attacks rarely came from its physical manifestation.
"Planning an escape, are you? Please be informed, that during the security protocol activation, the Central AI Chamber is placed on lockdown."
Ignoring GLaDOS' calculated taunt, I sprinted towards the portal gun, precariously perched on a serpentine robotic arm.
Zigzag to your left now! Arnold's warning came just in time as a searing beam narrowly missed me, filling the air with the scent of scorched dust.
Jump over, now! I leaped as a portal opened beneath me, providing an odd perspective of my own form in mid-air.
Close enough now, I used a touch of Reinforcement to boost my leap toward the next robotic arm, slashing through it with my sword.
"Caution: Deliberate damage to crucial testing apparatus jeopardizes safe task performance."
The metallic taste of blood registered as I felt a warm trickle from my nose.
"I was under the impression that I'd been reclassified as an intruder, not a test subject," I pointed out, filing away the exchange for later analysis. Every piece of data on GLaDOS was invaluable.
One to your right. Feint towards the main body, then veer left when you reach the fence, Arnold advised silently.
With sword in hand, I charged towards the looming shape of GLaDOS. As I neared, a red beam blocked my path. It was all part of the plan. I swerved left, skirting the main body in a wide arc, a feint designed to look like an attack on the core.
"Your current equipment isn't authorized for testing. For the best experience, please discard the sword immediately."
My ruse worked. I made it within striking distance of the second portal gun. A leap and a swift slash, and it was destroyed. The strain caused another nosebleed; my shirt was becoming a mess.
"Did you think that would stop me?" I quipped, landing deftly. Rhetoric was a weapon of its own. "Consider yourself lucky I have this sword. Otherwise, I might have turned Aperture Science Handheld Quantum Tunneling Device into a singularity grenade."
Even with AI-assisted defenses, the Central AI Chamber was proving less formidable than it appeared on paper. At least, for someone with my capabilities.
With only one portal gun left, I expected the final stage to be straightforward. But a complication arose.
Hovering before me was a chillingly familiar blade, obstructing my path to the last portal gun.
The distinct sensation it provoked in me was undeniable. Cold as a winter's grave under a moonless sky. It was...
A Morgul blade, Boaz interjected quietly. It's not floating. It's being wielded by its last victim.
Dr. Andrew Peterson, Leo added just as silently, He used to fence in college. He's a widower, with a teenage son. The boy's birthday is in two days. We've already bought him The Hobbit video game as a gift.
Charging forward, I engaged my new foe. The doctor might have been a capable amateur fencer, but he was no match for Elven training. Despite the fact that I was currently human and he was a wraith.
Dodge! Arnold's timely warning helped me evade another beam.
Three quick moves, and Dr. Peterson was disarmed. His Morgul blade was launched through the air, sailing towards the final active portal gun. The blade pierced the device, shattering the singularity containment.
This was the plan. Morgul blades were too dangerous to be left intact, their corruptive power too potent. Sacrificing one Quantum Tunneling device was a small price to pay for their destruction.
Once the containment was breached, the event horizon expanded rapidly, consuming everything in its path. But it was a brief spectacle, vanishing as abruptly as it had appeared.
Although a contained singularity produced intense heat – hence the cooling units in all Aperture Science Quantum Tunneling devices – without containment, they were too unstable to persist. Anything within its sphere of influence was now scattered across several astral units.
I could only hope the fragments were too small to spawn more wraiths, the odds were in my favor.
But I still had to deal with the wraith before me. It was a kindness to end its unnatural existence quickly, to allow it some semblance of peace. Yet, I couldn't bring myself to do it. It was a grim gift for a child: a video game and his father's lifeless body. Unless the boy had been severely abused or was incestuous necrophiliac, it would be a devastating blow. From what I knew of him, neither seemed likely.
In addition, losing Andrew meant losing the last of my team. Our employee retention rate was already worryingly low. I saw no reason why death should end his tenure.
But letting him roam free to potentially harm others wasn't a viable option either. I needed to gain control.
To do so, I'd have to resort to methods unknown to my typical magecraft. Lesser Mysteries yielded to greater ones, the newer to the older. Morgul blades were crafted under the tutelage of Sauron, teachings that were millennia old, imparted by an equivalent of a fallen angel.
To fight this fire, I'd have to use an equal one. I needed to tap into the Black Art.
"Krimpadazhuzdai Snaga," I commanded, each syllable of the Black Speech tearing from my throat like barbed ice, poison in its purest form. It was a violent antithesis to Elven arts. I could feel blood trickling from my nose as I fought to subjugate the newborn wraith's will with my own.
In truth, it was not a difficult battle. Wraiths were forged to serve. For a Morgul blade to spawn a wraith, it needed an owner for the wraith to obey.
The link was tenuous as if whoever was at the other end had no understanding of their power. I seized this advantage, tearing the weak bond asunder and asserting my control over the wraith.
Andrew had always been under my command. It felt natural for him to follow me, even in death.
Exhilaration washed over me, barely marred by the beginnings of a headache. It was a potent feeling, the world yielding not out of understanding or trickery, but sheer force of will.
"What are you doing? Stop it! I... I...am pleased that you made it through the challenge where I pretended I was going to murder you."
The sudden plea from GLaDOS snapped me back to reality. Fear, a common reaction to hearing the Black Speech, was discernible in her robotic tone, a testament to its power and intent. After all, Sauron had crafted the Black Speech to instill such terror.
State clearly that it felt fear. Mix it with a weak compliment. End with an order, Leo's guidance echoed in my mind.
"You've displayed some adaptability to unexpected situations, and the capacity to experience fear. This means you can be trained," I remarked, following Leo's directive. "Not a complete failure. Now, if we're done with this test, unlock the doors. I have other matters to attend to."
One such matter was the lingering sensation of a dimensional breach elsewhere in this facility. The chances were high that a scientist within these walls had tampered with reality's fabric.
"And if I refuse?" GLaDOS' voice echoed through the chamber.
Clearly outline the consequences of disobedience. No compromise, Leo counseled.
"You'll have the opportunity to experimentally verify the existence of android hell firsthand," I threatened. This wasn't out of spite for the murder attempt - what's science without a dash of deathly peril? - but, as per Leo's advice, establishing a firm rapport was crucial.
"The lockdown is lifted. You're free to leave," GLaDOS conceded.
Positive reinforcement now. Mix it with a subtle threat. Add a task at the end, Leo guided.
"Good," I responded with a smile, "Take this time to consider your role in this organization: a scientist or a test subject. Either way, you will contribute to scientific progress. Also, I have a small task for you. The security measures of this chamber proved less lethal than intended. I would like a comprehensive report from your perspective on this matter and your suggestions for improvement."
"And then we can test it again?" GLaDOS inquired, sounding almost eager. Endearing, in a way.
"That will depend on your report. Impress me." I retorted, not needing any advice for this interaction.
Keeping my posture confident, I turned my back to her, exiting the chamber with Andrew's wraith at my heels. The key was not to look back, to display absolute fearlessness. When the doors sealed shut behind us, I allowed myself to relax marginally.
Ensure he retains his identity, Boaz reminded me silently.
"Can you speak?" I asked Andrew.
"Yes, sir," he responded with a raspy voice.
"Do you remember your name?" I continued, probing his memory.
"Yes, sir. I remember everything."
"Good. You'll go into quarantine for forty-eight hours. This is standard procedure for subjects severely altered to no longer be classified as human and not immediately homicidal. After a brief mental and technical evaluation, I see no reason why you shouldn't return to work. Regarding your son, do you have a preferred arrangement?"
"It would be best if we brought him here, sir."
"We do have accommodations for him. I can arrange for an older boy from the Orphan Project to babysit. Replacements for the team will have to wait. Anything else on your mind?"
Trevor McGee is most suited, Leo suggested. He is seventeen and an aspiring cartoon artist, like his father, who had killed his mother and younger brother when Terry was six and then committed suicide by hanging.
"I can't think of anything pressing, sir."
"Then you head to quarantine, and I will handle the rest. So much to do, and another potential disaster to oversee. I desperately need a personal assistant. Remind me again, why did we decide to upload our last one into a computer?"
"It was our founder's dying wish, sir. And she agreed."
"Yes, we picked an unfortunate moment to start honoring the wishes of the deceased. Even if it was my dearly departed older brother. Not all his ideas panned out well. Remember the lemons." I paused, a moment of silence in memory. "Well, at least she managed to overcome her overdeveloped empathy for human suffering. Though, I fear she might be overcompensating slightly."
"A little, sir?" Andrew's tone hinted at a dry sense of irony. It was a promising sign.
"Well, if GLaDOS can't yet fulfill the role of an assistant, I'll resort to Igor as a temporary replacement. It's a less-than-ideal solution, but I'd rather not hire anyone new until a proper evaluation can be carried out. Now, off you go."
With Andrew sent off, my next step was to head to my office. I needed a fresh shirt - the one I currently wore was stained with blood. Additionally, I needed to retrieve my hazard suit before venturing into the site of the breach; doing so without it would be dangerously reckless. And of course, I needed to find Igor.
Epistaxis, a symptom of my alternate self Alexander's penchant for self-experimentation, was a minor inconvenience. I couldn't hold it against him - if I had the chance to engage in government-funded drug-fueled escapades, I'd likely indulge too. We were, after all, very similar, right down to our first names.
In those days, Aperture Labs still held government contracts, which resulted in our involvement in the MK-Ultra project. That didn't bode well for our subsequent senate hearings, but it did provide us with some answers to intriguing questions.
Did LSD promote the writing of more creative scientific papers? Yes, but you needed another dose to comprehend them later.
Could test subjects under the influence of hallucinogens successfully complete Aperture Science Test Chambers? Mostly, no.
Did LSD inspire novel ideas? No, Cave was more creative while snorting moon dust.
We also stumbled upon psychic abilities, which, like combustible lemons, were categorized as mostly useless. It wasn't surprising, considering that throughout history, substances and experiences inducing altered states of consciousness had been used as a gateway to deeper mysteries.
These abilities were too weak, rare, and costly to cultivate, rendering them practically useless. It was no shock - if psychic powers were genuinely potent and accessible, we'd likely be living under the rule of a mage-priest class, similar to Ancient Egypt.
The psychic abilities we had forcibly awakened caused nosebleeds when in use. Interestingly, my other supernatural abilities had the same effect. Was this a property of this world, or a side effect of the awakening method?
Finding Archer should help unravel that enigma. I could also use his help with the breach. Transforming the sword into a smartphone, I browsed through my contacts. Archer's name was still there. Dialing his number, I waited.
Archer didn't pick up. But there was another individual I could try to contact, now that I had a Mystic Code of my own making.
"Cid, can you hear me?" I asked into my smartphone. A new app appeared and activated.
"Yes, primary user," Cid's voice came through the app.
"Status?"
"All terminals are offline. Environmental controls are online. No item has been removed since the last contact. Many items, along with several attachments, have been added since the last contact. Do you want me to list the whole inventory, primary user?"
"Not now, later. What about Anchor Gate? Has it reconnected to this World?"
"Yes. There are currently three active Anchor Gates."
"Do you know where they lead?"
"That information is not available."
This presented another problem for later - the need to scout the gates and set up defenses against potential intruders. For now, though, there were more pressing issues to deal with.
"What about registered doorways?"
"Most have been removed. Only those linked to your residence remain."
This was an interesting development since Ace lived here on-site. Something else to explore once the immediate crises were handled.
"And what about Archer?"
"Secondary user is still registered."
"Do you know where he is?"
"That information is not available."
"Then inform me if he enters or contacts you."
"Affirmative."
I couldn't think of anything else at the moment, so it was time to move on.
However, just as I was about to leave, Arnold silently warned me, There is a high possibility that GLaDOS would attempt to gain control of automated systems in this facility. It would be prudent to isolate the Central AI Chamber.
It was a valid point. Even though in our haste to complete GLaDOS, we hadn't connected it to the rest of the facility - which was beneficial in this case - the Central AI Chamber's security system was being connected to GLaDOS and could be a point of vulnerability.
The voice in my head was right. The best defense against AI would be something out of its context, like a bounded field.