Love as a Construct: Part Sixty-Seven The Readying

Part Sixty-Seven.  The Readying

 

The next three weeks were very stressful.

Wheatley knew he really had nothing to complain about.  He had no calculations to run, no battles to plan, and no world to save.  But he worried about GLaDOS.  Constantly.  All day long, no matter what he was doing or who he was talking to, he worried about her.  A piece of his mind was always on her, wondering how or what she was doing.  He was, again, honestly scared of the intensity of his thoughts.  But he could not stop them, or even slow them down, so he just tried to think them and then let them go.  It didn’t always work.  But it was all he could do.

It was on the second morning that she’d given him the news. 

“Wheatley, I have a job for you,” she’d said matter-of-factly, not looking at him.

“A… a job?” he’d asked hesitantly.

“Yes.  I’m putting you in charge of the repurposed testing tracks.”

“Me?”  He’d been so surprised he couldn’t even think.  “But… I’ve never even built one before!”

“I’ve already built them.  And the panels know enough now to move themselves as you see fit.  However.  What I mainly need you to do is to come up with games for the humans.  They learn better when they feel as though there’s no pressure on them to do so.  I need you to make the training fun for them.”

“Oh, well… I guess I could do that,” he’d said, a frown coming across his optic.  “But…”

“If you do need to modify the testing tracks, show Caroline what you’re doing.  Reassure her that I’m not backing out of my promise.  But if you’re doing it anyway she might as well do it with you.”

“Are you sending me away?” he’d asked quietly.  She’d lifted her core to look at him slowly, shaking it in denial.

“No,” she’d answered softly.  “You have no idea how much I’d prefer to keep you here.  I’m going to be stuck here, dealing with humans all day.  Having meetings and hearing plans and trying to get a little real work done while they tell me whatever things they think are important.  But I genuinely need you to do this.  If the humans aren’t sufficiently prepared, that places a lot more pressure on us.”

“Us?  You haven’t told me my role, what I’ll be doing when the, the Combine comes.”

“I meant myself and the systems.  The panels.  Surveillance.  The mainframe.  And so on.  No, you… don’t really have a role in that.  You’re just going to stay here with me, as far as I know.”

 “Can’t I do that now as well?” he’d asked, unable to think of a task he’d like to be given more.

She’d shaken her head and given him a shove.  “What I’ve told you to do is more important.  So go get started.  Take Caroline with you.”

“I wish you were your first priority, for once,” he’d told her sulkily, and she’d laughed a little.

“That’s the point.  Go.  Train those humans for me.”

He’d pressed himself into her, hard, and then sadly gone to do as she’d asked.  It was really rather fun to come up with odd little testing tracks to train the humans in, and it was just as fun to shout at them as they ran the courses.  Carrie was helping him with that on occasion, though she usually pestered him to make her a little track too so she could race the humans to the finish.  He hoped she didn’t realise he was cheating a little bit; the humans were being trained with live turrets and lasers and such, but he didn’t want her having any part of that.  Anything dangerous was carefully timed to miss her by at least two seconds.  She seemed to be having a whale of a time, though, so even if she did notice she didn’t seem to care. 

The humans were doing their part splendidly, and he was quite proud of the fact that they were actually learning something under his supervision.  What a wonderful accomplishment, that!  Twenty years too late, give or take, though, and that was a shame.  He’d’ve liked to have stuck it to those snotty scientists who’d thought he wasn’t much good for anything.  He just needed a bit of encouragement and creative freedom, that was all.  Look at him now!  He was making a positive contribution to something tremendously important. 

GLaDOS had rebuilt the hunters and redesigned her military androids to mimic the movements of the Combine infantry, which the Resistance fired on with non-lethal rounds.  Many of the humans had been amazed with the similarities between her robots and the real thing, and a good number of them, or the ones that finished, often behaved as though they’d won the war itself.  As predicted, Caroline was put out that Wheatley was showing her the ropes instead of GLaDOS, but she soon forgot about her complaints when the humans entered the tracks.  Sometimes that strange Dog robot would go in there with them, and she would get especially excited, cheering him on and jumping up and down.  Every so often she would ask for a break and Wheatley would nod, and she would chase the robot wherever he went.  Wheatley would be a little less distracted, and think about GLaDOS a little more.  She’d given him a job to do, though he didn’t know if it were to keep him from worrying or not.  But if that was what it was designed to do, it didn’t work. 

Caroline would go into GLaDOS’s chamber to say goodnight to her, which Wheatley could tell relieved her to no end.  But she was always tired and listless, so Wheatley did not attempt to talk to her.  He would just tell her good night and press himself into her, and would stare into the darkness for a while, listening as she continued working on whatever it was she deemed important.  During the second week he’d hesitantly asked if he could wipe down her chassis, and she’d agreed.  She was so tense that it caused her actual pain, which she only expressed in the barest of gasps, but after a while she relaxed considerably.  When he was finished he went down beside her, and she’d sighed in relief and nuzzled him tenderly.

“Thank you,” she’d said softly.  “I needed that.”

“You could’ve asked,” he’d told her.

“You know when I need it more than I do,” she’d answered.

They’d been able to have a bit of a chat that night, where GLaDOS filled Wheatley in on how the planning was going and Wheatley told GLaDOS about some of the more interesting things that went on during the modified testing, and she’d seemed very pleased to hear that the humans were progressing so well.  “I might not have to fight this war all on my own,” she’d said thoughtfully.

“We’re going to uh, to get them to work on um, on being quiet, tomorrow,” he’d told her, a little shyly. 

“Good idea.  It’s easier to take people out when they don’t know you’re there.”

“It’s… it’s a good idea, Gladys?”

She’d given him a shove.  “You’ve changed a lot, you know.”

“I’ve tried to.”

“You have.”

Wheatley honestly had no idea how he’d gotten on in life without her.

 

 

“How have Orange and Blue been doing?” GLaDOS asked the next morning, almost as soon as he’d woken up.  He was unable to understand her for a few moments. 

“They’re… they’re quite helpful,” he said, a little blearily.  “The humans like it when they uh, when they’re out.  Think they’re cute.”

She nodded slowly.  “Do you… talk to them, at all?”

“Sometimes,” he shrugged.  “Just to uh, to say ‘allo an’ all that.  We chat a little ‘bout how the humans are doing, now and then.”

She shifted uneasily.

“Why d’you ask?”  It was sort of a weird question, when she could probably just give them a ring herself.

“I haven’t… spoken to them for a while now.”

“What?” he gasped in disbelief as he turned to face her, fully online now.  “You haven’t – why not?”

“They were angry with me,” she answered.  “When you were gone, I… forgot about them.  They became… ill, is how they referred to it, and they were angry that I did nothing about it.  They no longer wanted to hear from me because they thought I didn’t care about them.  And at the time… it was true.  It was nothing against them.  I didn’t care about anything.  But I have to admit I didn’t… appreciate them very much before that, either.  So.  That’s why I’m asking.  They wanted me to cease communication and I did.”

Wheatley sighed.

“Gladys, they didn’t mean forever.”

“I’m not going to make that decision for them.  That’s part of why they were upset.”

“Okay, I got that,” Wheatley told her in exasperation.  “You’re trying to be less bossy.  We know.  But Gladys, since when’ve they ever uh, ever made the trip in here on their own?  Do they ever, ever come to see you without your permission?  They’re not talking to you not because they don’t want to, but because that’s um, that’s the way it’s always been.”

“Oh,” GLaDOS said, sounding almost dumbfounded than he’d ever heard her.  “That’s… really all it is?”

“Yeah,” Wheatley answered, though to be honest he was really guessing.  “They’re not angry.  They’re not um, they don’t talk to you because that’s not, it isn’t something that usually happens.  ‘s all it is.”

“So...”  She paused and looked at the wall for a moment.  “There’s something I know I’m going to need done, when the Combine break through the outer line of defense.”

“They’re gonna get in here?” Wheatley asked, horrified.  “But… isn’t that the uh, the point of all the humans, and the training, and – “

“Yes,” she interrupted.  “However.  I’m not relying on humans to keep the facility safe.  That would be inconceivably stupid.  I must operate under the notion that they will breach the defenses and enter the facility, and when they do they will be bringing certain equipment with them that I will be incapable of personally disabling.  I’m going to need to send people to disable them for me.  The plan at this time is to acquire some capable humans, if such a thing exists, and have them do it.  But if it is as you say, and they are not upset – and the fact that I am only communicating with them to have them do something for me does not upset them – I would much prefer to send them.”

“D’you want me to fetch them for you?” he asked gently.  She shook her core.

“I don’t know.”

He decided that was as good a yes as any and headed out.

He found them cleaning up the test chamber they’d been helping him out with earlier; well, they were sort of cleaning it up.  They seemed to have gotten distracted and elected to throw Cubes at each other instead.  He made a throat-clearing noise and they jumped, turning around.  Atlas tilted his core upwards inquisitively.

“She wants to talk to you,” he said quietly.  P-body straightened attentively, but Atlas pulled her back down and narrowed his optic, waving a hand at him suspiciously, palm up and fingers splayed.

“She thinks you’re upset with her,” Wheatley said, guessing what Atlas wanted to know.  “She’s… trying not to make the decision of going to see her for you.  Bit of an odd standoff, really.  She’s waiting for you to uh, to contact her and you’re um, waiting on the same thing.  But she um, it’s alright if you make the first move.  Really, it is.  She’s not tried to talk to you because she’s trying to be consid’rate.”

P-body again made to move towards Wheatley, chirping eagerly, and Atlas followed a bit more reluctantly.  The three of them travelled through the facility and entered her chamber together, and out of the corner of his optic Wheatley saw Atlas take P-body’s hand as he returned to his place at GLaDOS’s side.

The two of them stood in front of her, so as to force her to acknowledge them, he supposed.  She regarded them without speaking.  Then P-body waved at her.

“Hello,” GLaDOS returned sombrely.  “What is it.”

Wheatley said you wanted to talk to us, Atlas said gruffly, and Wheatley jumped upon hearing him.  He hadn’t really expected GLaDOS to translate.

“Yes,” she answered slowly.  “I have a job for you.  If you want it.”

Atlas frowned, but P-body nodded rapidly.  Of course we do!

Do we? Atlas said, glancing at her, and GLaDOS moved back a little.  He regarded her sternly.

Wheatley said you didn’t want to force us to come and see you.

“That’s what I said, yes.”

You never want us to come see you anyway.

“I don’t mind if you do that,” she answered softly.  “I realise now that’s what I led you to believe, but… it’s not true.”

Even so, Atlas pressed, you don’t care about us like you care about them.

Wheatley frowned and looked at GLaDOS, but she remained silent. 

He’s right, P-body said, sounding sad.  You don’t love us like you love them.

GLaDOS sighed heavily.

“No.  I don’t love you.  But that doesn’t mean I don’t care.  This past year, no, I didn’t.  But I didn’t care about anything.  I didn’t care about anyone.  I would not have noticed if most of you had gone missing.”

That’s not encouraging, Central Core, Atlas said, accusation in every word.

She nodded reluctantly.  “I know that.  However.  The mainframe was in control of the facility.  Not me.  It cut me off from everything.  I was only allowed to communicate with Surveillance and the panels, and the mainframe only allowed that to keep them quiet.  It was through some very persistent outside contact that I regained control of things at all.  Without going too much into detail, let me just say that if things had gone a little differently, we would all be dead.  Because I didn’t care enough to fix anything, let alone you.”

Dead, Central Core? P-body squeaked.

“I was told the mainframe was endeavouring to destroy me.  It failed to take into account the sentience of the other systems.  Between the three people that kept pestering me, I became motivated enough to take my facility back.”  She told the story in quite a flat sort of voice, as if she didn’t want to remember it.  It was certainly less dramatic than the version she gave Carrie.

Central Core, we didn’t know, P-body said frantically, stepping forward.  If we had known, we would have –

GLaDOS silenced her with a shake of her core.  “I didn’t tell you that so you would feel sympathy for me.  I just wanted you to know it wasn’t personal.”

The two bots traded a glance.

We should have come to check on you, Atlas said finally.  We knew something was wrong.  We knew Wheatley was gone.  But we didn’t. 

We were jealous, P-body continued in a quieter voice.  We knew you wouldn’t have reacted that way if something had happened to us.

“You’re right,” GLaDOS told them.  “I wouldn’t have.  And I have no excuse.  But I will be honest and say that’s probably not going to change.  I doubt I will ever love you.  But that does not mean I do not care.”

Why don’t you ever ask us to come see you, then? Atlas demanded.  GLaDOS studiously avoided looking at all of them, even as P-body took another step forward.

“I don’t know what to say to you,” she answered eventually.  “The person who built you no longer really exists.  And before you get confused, what that means is… I have changed a lot since I built you.  I do not have a purpose for you anymore.  And if you have no purpose, I… don’t know what to do with you.”

You don’t know what to do, Central Core, Atlas said, disbelievingly.  GLaDOS made an uncomfortable noise and looked at the wall.

“I don’t know how to talk to you.  The only thing connecting us was testing.  After I ceased sending you out… I no longer felt we had anything in common.”

But we do!  P-body stood straight, even more excited than usual.  We care about each other, Central Core!  And I would say that’s extremely significant!

She’s right, Atlas said gruffly.  That’s the most important part.  It’s easy to find little things in common when you have something as large as that connecting you.

“Top-down processing…,” GLaDOS said thoughtfully.  “I understand.”

“I don’t,” Wheatley said hurriedly.  “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Top-down processing is when you deduce the parts from the whole,” GLaDOS explained, turning to him at last.  “I’ve always looked at interaction as a bottom-up sequence.   I should have thought of doing it the other way around.”

Wheatley shook his core.  Why she felt the need to make everything about science, he’d never guess.

“So,” she said resolutely, moving to face her bots, “are we settled?”

They both gave her a firm nod.  On one condition, Atlas said quickly.

“And what would that be?” GLaDOS asked suspiciously.

You are being too nice, P-body said, spreading her hands in a disbelieving sort of way.  It’s creepy!

GLaDOS laughed, a nod signaling her acquiescence.  “Very well.  I’ll try to be more unpleasant.  I didn’t realise you liked it so much.”

The bots said something in answer, but Wheatley didn’t know what because GLaDOS decided then to stop translating.  That was a little disappointing, but maybe she hadn’t realised she was doing it in the first place.  They stood a little straighter before her, as if to receive orders, and sure enough GLaDOS said:

“All right, you marshmallows.  I’ve got a job for you.  And if you screw this one up, that means the end of the world.  You don’t want to be responsible for ending the world, do you?”

The two bots shook their cores, and GLaDOS leaned forward.  “I’ve set up Surveillance to communicate with you.  The Combine are going to bring a piece of machinery called an electromagnetic pulse, or EMP, generator.  If they manage to set it off, everything is over.  You need to find and disable it before they do.  Surveillance will alert you when they’ve brought it in.  It will be on one of the lower levels, out of my jurisdiction.  I’m sure you remember your missions below modern Aperture.”

They nodded, both looking very serious. 

“Good.  You’re going to need your Portal Devices.  I’m serious.  If you fail, the world may well be at an end.  Everything we’ve fought for, everything we’ve built… they’re trying to take it from us.  That cannot happen.  Even if you fail at everything else I ever ask you to do, you must succeed at this.  I cannot stress that enough.”

They nodded again and chirped at her, and she just looked at them for a long moment.

“And…”  Her voice was surprisingly soft and wavery, and Wheatley found himself looking down at her in concern.  “For God’s sake, come back in one piece.  Both of you.”

They regarded her quietly, seeming to study her.

“Atlas.  Come here,” she said, still in that soft voice, and he stepped forward, looking a little confused.  She moved forward quickly, closing the gap between them, and pressed her optic assembly into Atlas’s core.  Atlas looked at her confusedly, arms spread, but P-body poked him in the back and he jolted, clasping GLaDOS’s core tightly.  She shoved him away after a few moments, saying, “P-body,” and she leapt joyfully into GLaDOS’s core.  GLaDOS held her with the same sad intensity she had Atlas, and P-body backed away of her own free will, moving to stand with her partner.  GLaDOS again watched them silently.

“I’m counting on you,” she told them.  “Don’t disappoint me.”

The two bots regarded each other for a long moment, and that mutual understanding they had passed between them.  Simultaneously, Atlas and P-body threw their arms around GLaDOS’s core, and she pushed her chassis into theirs as best she was able.  Then they stepped back, waving and running for the doorway.  P-body paused and chirped, holding one finger up to GLaDOS, and Atlas raised one fist and related something in a serious tone.  A good handful of seconds after they’d left, GLaDOS was still staring out the doorway after them.  She abruptly pulled back, shaking her head morosely.  “Wheatley, can you… pray… for them?” she asked, so quietly he almost didn’t hear.  “Does the… God of AI do that?”

“Sure he does,” Wheatley said reassuringly, though he really had no idea.  “What… what’d they say, sweetheart?”

She said nothing for a minute or so.

“’Don’t worry, Mom.  We’re going to make you proud.’”

Wheatley wanted to cry.  He wished he hadn’t asked, because it was such a terribly private thing, but he forced that back and moved towards her, pressing himself into her.  “They’ll be okay,” he whispered.  “You trained them well.”

She sighed and shoved him off of her, and though he was a bit put out that she was doing that while he was trying to help her, he soon saw why.

“You sure you don’t want me in here with you?” Chell asked, after she’d stepped through the doorway.

“If you’re out there wreaking as much as havoc as you should be, you don’t need to be in here,” GLaDOS answered.  “So get out of here.  Go show that crowbar-swinging husband of yours how a real lunatic does it.”

Chell laughed, shrugging and folding her arms together.  “Just thought I’d check and see if you’d changed your mind.”

“No, you’re not staying in here and watching me do all the work.  There’s plenty for you out there.  Thin them out for me.  I still haven’t gotten rid of all the dead ones sitting in the basement.”

“Choking up the lower passageways?”

“Something like that.”

They regarded each other for a long moment, and then Chell turned to Wheatley.  “You know what to do, Wheatley,” she said, offering her hand, and he smiled and shook it.  “Just don’t do it too well.”

“We’ll all do our part,” he told her, shrugging.  “Good luck out there.”

“And you,” she nodded, going back to watching GLaDOS. 

“Well.  What are you waiting for.”

“This isn’t goodbye,” Chell said seriously.  “I’m coming back.  We’re all coming back.”

“That’s not how it works,” GLaDOS told her, just as seriously.  “Someone always dies.”

“Sure.  In regular wars.  But this time we’re both fresh and ready to go.  We always win.  You do what you do and I’ll do the same.  We’ll kick them back to Xen if we have to.”

“We can’t.  There’s no portal back to that world.”

Chell’s eyes sparkled.  “And you have no idea how to open one.”

“I might have an inkling.”

“Means she’s got, got robots there, checking out the place now,” Wheatley muttered, and Chell laughed.         

“He knows you too well.  All right.  I’ll get going.  But only because I have to beat Gordon to the weaponry.  Thinks he’s a better shot than me.”  She stepped directly in front of GLaDOS, unfolding her arms.  “But I’m not going without a hug from my best friend.”

GLaDOS neither fought her nor denied her personal need.  Wheatley looked away when Chell’s face fell into sadness.  GLaDOS must have been pressing very hard.

“This is not goodbye,” she repeated firmly, moving back and looking GLaDOS directly in the optic.  “We’ve still got to swap those mom stories, remember?”

“That depends on whether you know better than to step into the path of an approaching bullet.  I taught you how to avoid them, but I’ve no doubt you’ve forgotten by now.”

“We’ll see soon enough.  Wheatley?  Keep her in line, will you?”

“Me?” Wheatley asked, horrified, and Chell laughed and left the room.

Guest reviews:

MoonStia: No, I don’t think I’ve ever been depressed, but a lot of how GLaDOS behaves comes from my own experiences in life.  GLaDOS’s relationship with Carrie is heavily based on my own relationship with my mom, though I have to say Carrie and GLaDOS get along a lot better.  The largest part of a fic directly based on something that happened to me was a car accident Wheatley had in another of my stories.  Otherwise pretty much the only part relating to my real life is the fact that GLaDOS gets tired a lot, because I’m tired a lot.

Irem:  Yes, here I am.  Hi.

Fishapedvanilla: Well I’m here at my house, of course.  I live here.

Wolfpaw77:  Just keep breathing, buddy.

Amy:  Yes, it’s still being continued.  Very slowly, but there’s a hell of a lot written you guys have yet to see.

MacMine411:  I assure you I still mean it.  I’m not quitting.  I didn’t write that ending just for my personal enjoyment (okay yes I did but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to share it with the world)

The Puppet:  Thank you.  That is a lot of overthinking on my part.  I have to decide what AI live for and whatever comes here is the result.

 

Author’s note:

So

Hi

I wrote this and forgot I wrote it.  That’s what happens when you write a bunch of stuff ahead of time and then don’t really have an ordering system for all of it.  It’s been a while so all those Part X’s really don’t mean anything to me.

No, I don’t know when the next part is coming.  I wrote some of it when I originally wrote this part but it’s the second half of the chapter so I have to write the first half.  I stopped writing this so much because I started drawing again and I usually draw constantly or write constantly and I guess I went into the drawing stage there.  But there is a lot left to publish and I will finish it, even if it takes me another year and all of you disappear to other fandoms and whatnot.  Congrats for making it this far.  This thing is the longest Portal fanfic on the archive and it’s like the size of five novels.  I really am gonna make it to a million words one day.