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tamingthemuse2009-10-17 11:18 pm
wordwhacker.livejournal.com) wrote in tamingthemuse2009-10-17 11:18 pm
Entry tags:
Prompt #169 - Playground - Human After All (1 of 2) - Cass (wordwhacker) - Portal
Title: Human After All (part 1 of 2 - Part 2 here)
Fandom: Portal
Prompt: #169 - Playground
Word Count: 1651
Rating: G
Gareth awoke with the scent of recycled air in his nostrils, dry and cool like it came from a can. His thoughts were thick and syrupy, cloying confusingly together. Slowly the blinding lightness that was his vision resolved and he was staring up at fluorescent lights through a transparent dome.
The dome whisked away and his ears popped painfully with the change in pressure.
“Hello.” The voice was a woman’s, slightly nasal and impish as though it was both embarrassed and thrilled by his presence. “Welcome to the Aperture Science Enrichment Center. We are pleased to inform you that you – “ Here it paused for a moment as though it was searching for a name. “Gar-eth,” it mispronounced, finally, “have been selected as the first test subject for an experimental scientific device which has been under top secret development at Aperture Laboratories for several years.”
He sat up, rubbing at his temples to dispel the headache that still clouded his thoughts. The enthusiastic voice emanated from everywhere, echoing slightly in the stark, cubical chamber. Set high in the bare, pristine walls was a pane of frosted glass. There was no movement behind it, only the silhouettes of office chairs and terminals, but still he had the sense of being watched.
“The Enrichment Center is committed to providing you with the best possible resources for completing each test,” the proud little voice went on. “To this end, voice receptors have been installed in all security devices within each test chamber. If there is anything you require, simply state your request.”
“Thanks,” Gareth croaked through his thickly coated throat – his own voice felt unfamiliar to him. “Could I get a glass of water?”
“Oh - oh!” The voice sounded almost human for a moment, but it quickly recovered and continued in a more formal tone. “The Enrichment Center has anticipated this need due to the dehydrating effects of the relaxation vault sleeper module. Consequently, you will find a vessel of distilled rain water on the personal artefact receptacle in front of you.”
He stood up to fetch the mug and was surprised by an odd springiness in his step despite his being bare foot. Apart from the bright orange jumpsuit he was apparently wearing, he noticed a strange metal hook-like contraption which was fastened to each leg just below the knee, curling down and bracing the ground behind his heels. “What the...”
“In order to protect you from personal injury due to the increased risk of attaining terminal velocity in Enrichment Center testing, you have been outfitted with a complimentary pair of Aperture Science Impact Compression Braces.”
“Oh. Uh – thanks?”
“You’re welcome, Gar-eth.”
“It’s – it’s just Gareth. Not Gar as in ‘car’.”
“Oh.” For a moment it sounded hurt, but its detached formality returned. “Pronunciation database updated, Gareth.”
“Thanks... uh, what should I call you?”
A pause. “Glados,” she said. He was about to ask her if that was an acronym for something when she started in with her formal tone again. “Allotted introductory time elapsed – skipping safety protocol information. The portal will open in three, two – “
“Wait – safety protocol? Shouldn’t – “
“Three. Two. One.”
The fog in Gareth’s mind still clung to his thoughts, but somehow logic puzzles came swiftly to him, relieving him with the purity of physical interrelationships. The hand held portal device was attached securely to his arm; the weight of it was comfortable. He moved through the first handful of test chambers easily, slowly coming to crave Glados’s disembodied words of cooing praise. It had to be a computer; even beyond the cadence of its words, the vocabulary and sentence structure choices were curious at times, like it was picking the words from a book. But something about it felt different – the way it slid in and out of that official tone, the way it hung on his name. If it was a woman, Gareth would have thought that it had an ill-concealed and slightly mawkish crush on him.
The chamber lock stopped and he stepped out into the next test chamber. “The Enrichment Center regrets to inform you that this next test is impossible,” she said. “Make no attempt to solve it.”
Gareteh blinked. “Are you – are you serious?” He spoke to one of the mechanical eyes – her eyes, he thought – that followed his every move. It dipped slightly as though embarrassed.
“Yes. That is the protocol for this test chamber. This chamber was a mistake. We sincerely apologise for the inconvenience.”
He surveyed the chamber. It was definitely the most difficult puzzle so far, but it didn’t strike him as really being unsolvable.
“It’s really hopeless,” she said, sounding oddly miserable. “You should just give up. Nobody will fault you for failing.”
Suddenly it came to him – with two well-placed portals he had manoeuvred both himself and the requisite cube into the seemingly unattainable second half of the chamber. The door to the exit slid open.
“Well done,” she said, sounding relieved.
“Why did you say it was impossible?”
“Standard resourcefulness and positive thinking tests is required in all Aperture Science experimentation. But I knew you could do it, Gareth,” she added, quickly.
“Get ready to fling yourself,” she said, sounding obscenely helpful even though this was the fourth time she’d said it since he had been standing on the ledge. “Your complimentary Aperture Science Imact Compression Braces will absorb any damage you would incur to your person in the event that you should miss the portal.”
“I know.” He wiped his sweaty palms on his jumpsuit. He’d flung himself before, short distances mostly, but in spite of Glados’s fervent attempts to reassure him he just couldn’t force himself to fall. The distance was just too much.
“Momentum is conserved between portals,” she offered after a moment.
“I know.”
“Speedy thing goes in, speedy thing comes out.”
“I know.”
“Weeeee- “
“PLEASE BE QUIET.”
The lights flickered and sparked. Gareth waited, expecting something odd to happen, but there was only silence. The pulsing hum of the place was suddenly deafening as he stared down at the swirling orange portal below him. He talked to himself for a long time, trying to tell himself that it would be all right, that he just needed to let himself go. But he couldn’t do it.
“I can’t,” he said. “I can’t do it. You’re going to have to find somebody else.”
Silence.
He wound his way back down the stairs and to the chamber lock at the beginning of the chamber. The wall-mounted surveillance eyes watched him, but Glados didn’t speak.
“Did you hear me? I said I want to go back now. I can’t do it.”
She didn’t respond. He screamed, the sound echoing for a long time in the chamber. For a moment he thought he saw movement behind the frosted glass above. “Hey – hey you! Can you hear me?”
They seemed to take notice of him, gesturing and conferring together. Then they went away and Gareth went into the chamber lock, expecting the doors to close and whisk him away any moment. But the lift never moved.
“Fine – you want to be like that? I can wait as long as you can.”
Apparently she could wait longer than eight hours, which is how long it took Gareth to feel giddy and ill from lack of nourishment. For a time he tried unsuccessfully to sleep but this just brought his headache back in full force. The men were still gone from the frosted glass window – it was as bright as it had ever been in the test chamber, so Gareth had no sense of time, but he thought that they must have gone home for the night.
“You said that test subjects were supposed to have the best resources for solving these puzzles,” he said, speaking to the ever-watching eye. “Well I need sleep. I need food. I need to go to the bathroom. And I can’t. Do. This. Test. I just can’t. Are you even listening to me?” When there was no response he fired a portal into the wall next to him and the other behind the surveillance eye, causing it to fall off the now non-existent wall and land on the floor with a satisfying clank.
“Certain objects may be vital to your success,” Glados said, suddenly, in her formal tone. Gareth was so happy to hear human speech again that he nearly cried out. “Please do not destroy – “
“Glados! Can you hear me? Please – don’t go away again. I’m – I’m sorry I yelled at you.”
For a sickening moment there was no response. “Get ready to fling yourself,” she said, testily.
“I can’t. I’m – I just can’t do it. It’s too far.”
“Get ready.” She spoke slowly, as though she was speaking to a child. “To fling yourself.”
“Can’t you – can’t you just let me go back?”
“Where would you go back to, Gareth?”
She said it innocently, almost sweetly, but for the first time since he’d awoken that day he felt real fear. He didn’t know. Through the fog that had been keeping him from really thinking he suddenly knew that there was nothing else there – no family, no job, no home town, no pets from his childhood. There was only himself, a mind outside of space and time.
“What... what did you...”
“We didn’t do anything to you, Gareth. Your condition was a result of an unfortunate workplace accident. Fortunately it rendered you a perfect initial test subject for Aperture Laboratories.”
Gareth held his head in his hands. “So this... this is my life, then? This test, this – playground?”
“Grief counselling is available at the conclusion of the test.”
“Grief counselling?!”
“There’s also cake,” she added, hopefully.
“But I – I can’t do it. I just can’t let myself fall that far. Why won’t they just let me quit?”
She was silent for a moment. “You can do it, Gareth.”
Fandom: Portal
Prompt: #169 - Playground
Word Count: 1651
Rating: G
Gareth awoke with the scent of recycled air in his nostrils, dry and cool like it came from a can. His thoughts were thick and syrupy, cloying confusingly together. Slowly the blinding lightness that was his vision resolved and he was staring up at fluorescent lights through a transparent dome.
The dome whisked away and his ears popped painfully with the change in pressure.
“Hello.” The voice was a woman’s, slightly nasal and impish as though it was both embarrassed and thrilled by his presence. “Welcome to the Aperture Science Enrichment Center. We are pleased to inform you that you – “ Here it paused for a moment as though it was searching for a name. “Gar-eth,” it mispronounced, finally, “have been selected as the first test subject for an experimental scientific device which has been under top secret development at Aperture Laboratories for several years.”
He sat up, rubbing at his temples to dispel the headache that still clouded his thoughts. The enthusiastic voice emanated from everywhere, echoing slightly in the stark, cubical chamber. Set high in the bare, pristine walls was a pane of frosted glass. There was no movement behind it, only the silhouettes of office chairs and terminals, but still he had the sense of being watched.
“The Enrichment Center is committed to providing you with the best possible resources for completing each test,” the proud little voice went on. “To this end, voice receptors have been installed in all security devices within each test chamber. If there is anything you require, simply state your request.”
“Thanks,” Gareth croaked through his thickly coated throat – his own voice felt unfamiliar to him. “Could I get a glass of water?”
“Oh - oh!” The voice sounded almost human for a moment, but it quickly recovered and continued in a more formal tone. “The Enrichment Center has anticipated this need due to the dehydrating effects of the relaxation vault sleeper module. Consequently, you will find a vessel of distilled rain water on the personal artefact receptacle in front of you.”
He stood up to fetch the mug and was surprised by an odd springiness in his step despite his being bare foot. Apart from the bright orange jumpsuit he was apparently wearing, he noticed a strange metal hook-like contraption which was fastened to each leg just below the knee, curling down and bracing the ground behind his heels. “What the...”
“In order to protect you from personal injury due to the increased risk of attaining terminal velocity in Enrichment Center testing, you have been outfitted with a complimentary pair of Aperture Science Impact Compression Braces.”
“Oh. Uh – thanks?”
“You’re welcome, Gar-eth.”
“It’s – it’s just Gareth. Not Gar as in ‘car’.”
“Oh.” For a moment it sounded hurt, but its detached formality returned. “Pronunciation database updated, Gareth.”
“Thanks... uh, what should I call you?”
A pause. “Glados,” she said. He was about to ask her if that was an acronym for something when she started in with her formal tone again. “Allotted introductory time elapsed – skipping safety protocol information. The portal will open in three, two – “
“Wait – safety protocol? Shouldn’t – “
“Three. Two. One.”
The fog in Gareth’s mind still clung to his thoughts, but somehow logic puzzles came swiftly to him, relieving him with the purity of physical interrelationships. The hand held portal device was attached securely to his arm; the weight of it was comfortable. He moved through the first handful of test chambers easily, slowly coming to crave Glados’s disembodied words of cooing praise. It had to be a computer; even beyond the cadence of its words, the vocabulary and sentence structure choices were curious at times, like it was picking the words from a book. But something about it felt different – the way it slid in and out of that official tone, the way it hung on his name. If it was a woman, Gareth would have thought that it had an ill-concealed and slightly mawkish crush on him.
The chamber lock stopped and he stepped out into the next test chamber. “The Enrichment Center regrets to inform you that this next test is impossible,” she said. “Make no attempt to solve it.”
Gareteh blinked. “Are you – are you serious?” He spoke to one of the mechanical eyes – her eyes, he thought – that followed his every move. It dipped slightly as though embarrassed.
“Yes. That is the protocol for this test chamber. This chamber was a mistake. We sincerely apologise for the inconvenience.”
He surveyed the chamber. It was definitely the most difficult puzzle so far, but it didn’t strike him as really being unsolvable.
“It’s really hopeless,” she said, sounding oddly miserable. “You should just give up. Nobody will fault you for failing.”
Suddenly it came to him – with two well-placed portals he had manoeuvred both himself and the requisite cube into the seemingly unattainable second half of the chamber. The door to the exit slid open.
“Well done,” she said, sounding relieved.
“Why did you say it was impossible?”
“Standard resourcefulness and positive thinking tests is required in all Aperture Science experimentation. But I knew you could do it, Gareth,” she added, quickly.
“Get ready to fling yourself,” she said, sounding obscenely helpful even though this was the fourth time she’d said it since he had been standing on the ledge. “Your complimentary Aperture Science Imact Compression Braces will absorb any damage you would incur to your person in the event that you should miss the portal.”
“I know.” He wiped his sweaty palms on his jumpsuit. He’d flung himself before, short distances mostly, but in spite of Glados’s fervent attempts to reassure him he just couldn’t force himself to fall. The distance was just too much.
“Momentum is conserved between portals,” she offered after a moment.
“I know.”
“Speedy thing goes in, speedy thing comes out.”
“I know.”
“Weeeee- “
“PLEASE BE QUIET.”
The lights flickered and sparked. Gareth waited, expecting something odd to happen, but there was only silence. The pulsing hum of the place was suddenly deafening as he stared down at the swirling orange portal below him. He talked to himself for a long time, trying to tell himself that it would be all right, that he just needed to let himself go. But he couldn’t do it.
“I can’t,” he said. “I can’t do it. You’re going to have to find somebody else.”
Silence.
He wound his way back down the stairs and to the chamber lock at the beginning of the chamber. The wall-mounted surveillance eyes watched him, but Glados didn’t speak.
“Did you hear me? I said I want to go back now. I can’t do it.”
She didn’t respond. He screamed, the sound echoing for a long time in the chamber. For a moment he thought he saw movement behind the frosted glass above. “Hey – hey you! Can you hear me?”
They seemed to take notice of him, gesturing and conferring together. Then they went away and Gareth went into the chamber lock, expecting the doors to close and whisk him away any moment. But the lift never moved.
“Fine – you want to be like that? I can wait as long as you can.”
Apparently she could wait longer than eight hours, which is how long it took Gareth to feel giddy and ill from lack of nourishment. For a time he tried unsuccessfully to sleep but this just brought his headache back in full force. The men were still gone from the frosted glass window – it was as bright as it had ever been in the test chamber, so Gareth had no sense of time, but he thought that they must have gone home for the night.
“You said that test subjects were supposed to have the best resources for solving these puzzles,” he said, speaking to the ever-watching eye. “Well I need sleep. I need food. I need to go to the bathroom. And I can’t. Do. This. Test. I just can’t. Are you even listening to me?” When there was no response he fired a portal into the wall next to him and the other behind the surveillance eye, causing it to fall off the now non-existent wall and land on the floor with a satisfying clank.
“Certain objects may be vital to your success,” Glados said, suddenly, in her formal tone. Gareth was so happy to hear human speech again that he nearly cried out. “Please do not destroy – “
“Glados! Can you hear me? Please – don’t go away again. I’m – I’m sorry I yelled at you.”
For a sickening moment there was no response. “Get ready to fling yourself,” she said, testily.
“I can’t. I’m – I just can’t do it. It’s too far.”
“Get ready.” She spoke slowly, as though she was speaking to a child. “To fling yourself.”
“Can’t you – can’t you just let me go back?”
“Where would you go back to, Gareth?”
She said it innocently, almost sweetly, but for the first time since he’d awoken that day he felt real fear. He didn’t know. Through the fog that had been keeping him from really thinking he suddenly knew that there was nothing else there – no family, no job, no home town, no pets from his childhood. There was only himself, a mind outside of space and time.
“What... what did you...”
“We didn’t do anything to you, Gareth. Your condition was a result of an unfortunate workplace accident. Fortunately it rendered you a perfect initial test subject for Aperture Laboratories.”
Gareth held his head in his hands. “So this... this is my life, then? This test, this – playground?”
“Grief counselling is available at the conclusion of the test.”
“Grief counselling?!”
“There’s also cake,” she added, hopefully.
“But I – I can’t do it. I just can’t let myself fall that far. Why won’t they just let me quit?”
She was silent for a moment. “You can do it, Gareth.”