Re: The Aperture Science Storyteller Sphere Test || Portal
<Security log $)&&*@&(&)#(*)* DATA CORRUPTED>
There was a haze of static before the camera showed a large cafeteria room. The Aperture logo was present on everything, from the mugs to the chairs and even on the big green tree in the corner, covered with blinking lights and brightly colored decorations. Employees of Aperture stood around chatting, except for one in the corner who was glancing about nervously over a mug of what was either cocoa, neurotoxin or coffee. His name tag read Rattmann, and he had a slightly crazed look about him. He worked in the psychological department, as records said. The thin man named Rattmann grabbed the arm of a rather tall woman with black hair. Her name tag red Caroline. From the gestures he made, whatever he was telling her was important enough to distress him greatly. There was probably neurotoxin in the cup.
After a moment he led her in to a side room where no one else was. The camera in there picked up, this time with discernible audio that wasn't a din of thirty or so voices. They were talking about the man, and some kind of medicine he was supposed to be taking.
"Of course, of course I took my medicine. Caroline, I'm telling you, this machine the others are building... something is wrong with it, I checked the data logs and--" The man started, turning another shade paler than he was already. Humans were so strange. The woman didn't look at all pleased.
"We've been over this already, Doug. My brain was already scanned, Mr. Johnson wanted it finished as a last wish. There's nothing to discuss," She said finitely before turning to leave. The man blocked the door and hastily pulled a large roll of papers from his pocket and rammed them in to her hand in place of the doorknob.
"You haven't looked at the data log. I don't know what happened to it, but that thing is practically alive. I got these readouts just before the party, Caroline; it's shut off, but it's still thinking," The wiry man said quickly, in an almost pained voice. From this angle, his right eye looked a bit larger than the left. Or maybe it was. The ID hanging around his neck looked about the same, but less like his heart was going to explode from neurotoxin. Or fear, whichever it was. "thinking about killing everyone in the facility. Don't rush the thing, Caroline, I'm begging you; this thing has been turned on six times now and every time it's tried to kill us all in less than a picosecond! Sticking talking balls on it isn't going to make it any less homicidal!"
"They're not balls, Doug. They're personality cores," The woman replied, looking rather annoyed and simply dropping the papers on the floor. The man scrambled to pick them all up. The final look that he cast at the woman was one of utter terror. And it was oddly pleasing to the camera for whatever reason. "Whatever you have wrong with the Genetic Lifeform and Disc Operating System is beyond me. It's going to take over the facility, and we're turning it on as soon as it's finished."
"You all just think I'm crazy, but I'm more sane than all of you. I'm sorry to bother you, miss Caroline," Rattmann said, stuffing his papers back in to his impressively deep pocket and moving off to a corner of the darkened room, clutching his head. The camera experienced a burst of static, and suddenly the room from before was empty. The tree was withered and dead, the lights blinking weakly and the decorations suddenly much less cheery. In the corner, Rattmann sat with his head between his hands, a large cube with a single heart on each side sitting by them. He was muttering to himself.
"I knew it... I knew it... Why didn't I do something? It's my fault..." the camera picked up. He said other things, but too quietly for the camera to hear.
"Don't be so frightened," Came a voice that was like a twisted echo of Caroline's voice, electronic and falsely reassuring. "You have your best friend with you," Rattmann glanced at the large box. "And I will always be here for you. Did you remember to take your medicine, Doug Rattmann?" the voice asked. The man rubbed his temples and glared at a medicine bottle on the table. He reached for it, then seemed to think better of it and shoved it in his pocket. He moved slightly and the camera caught a better view of him. He looked as if he had aged twenty years between the two shots; his hair was longer and more disheveled, and he now sported an equally wild beard. His eyes were ringed with exhaustion and something the camera couldn't place.
"You know how dangerous it is in the maintenance walkways. Why risk hurting your best friend? We only have a few more tests left, and then you can have your cake," the haunting voice came again. Rattmann squeezed his eyes shut and made a sound that was something of a cross between a sob and a scream of anger. And the entity controlling the camera... was pleased by it.
The recording flickers out, ending with a shot of the wiry, haggard man hurling the box with hearts at the screen followed by a loud crashing sound...
GLaDOS: Well, you wanted a Christmas special.So you get an early one.
<Image made by Neo>