Portal: My Little Moron - Chapter Eight

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Chapter Eight



Wheatley didn’t have to worry.  He nattered on and on the next morning while she did whatever was necessary for a fire drill, and as soon as all of the humans had sat down at their desks, she changed what he could see and called for it.  They threw things and yelled at her and behaved like children, but Gladys didn’t care.  “I wish this were an old-fashioned fire drill,” she told Wheatley wistfully.  “With those the humans could be outside for over an hour and a half.  But that’s because the fire marshal has to declare the building safe, and that takes time.  I can declare the building safe within thirty seconds if I want to, but to be… safe…, I’ll take five minutes.”

When they came back in they were even angrier than before, and Wheatley was puzzled as to why until Gladys remarked, “Oh my god, it’s raining.  That’s… I couldn’t have planned that if I’d tried.  That’s fantastic.  I didn’t even think to check the weather beforehand… I’ll have to make a note…”

“The humans are mad because they’re wet?”

“Humans hate getting wet,” Gladys answered gleefully.  “And now they’re all soaked.  Every last one of them.”

They did look pretty funny, Wheatley thought, with their hair all weighted down on their heads and water dribbling down their bodies.  Some of them were wringing out their shirtsleeves in the bathrooms, Gladys told him, and some of them were just sitting back down and pretending they weren’t wet.  He wished he could have seen everything she was seeing, but he couldn’t handle as much data as she could and had to content himself with the descriptions, while she showed him the best spots.  I’d better raise the temperature.  I don’t want any of them becoming ill.

You don’t?

She shook her head.  Sick test subjects are the worst kind.  The death rate for them is higher too, which, while interesting data, is not so useful when it’s because they’re too addled to realise they’ve just walked off the edge of the test floor.

After the temperature in the facility had been raised somewhat, the scientists were no longer as interesting, and Gladys was about to send him back to his own head, so to speak, when she pulled him back with more than a little enthusiasm.

Oh, this will be fun.  Watch.

A man was walking down the hallway with a security card in his hand.  It was an odd security card, Wheatley thought.  Instead of the man’s photograph and a barcode, it had numbers on it, and a lot of words in unfamiliar places.  That’s a, that’s a new card then, Gladys?  I’ve never, well, it’s not a very good security card, is it?   Doesn’t even have his picture on it.

It’s not a security card.  It’s a credit card.

He’s going to try to open the door with a credit card?

The man swiped his card in the reader and tried the handle.  When it didn’t move, he frowned and swiped his card again.  “I am very sorry, sir,” Gladys said in one of her lighter computerised voices, “but we only accept debit.”

The man looked down at his card, up at the camera, and then to the door, finally returning to look at the card again, a look of total confusion on his face.  Then all of a sudden he stuffed the card into his pocket and bolted down the hallway.

I love it when they do that.  Although the best part is, he doesn’t even need a card to open this door, since I’m in control of it and I know he works here.  So he’s going to have to go all the way back to the other side of the building, to his office or his locker or his car, and then he’s going to have to come all the way back, even though he doesn’t need to.  I hope he has to go back to his car, since it’s raining.

Wheatley was very glad he was Gladys’s friend; he would never want to be on the receiving end of one of her jokes.

She was in a pretty good mood for the rest of the morning, and was certainly more chatty than usual, which he liked, but come noon she suddenly stopped talking.  He didn’t understand why, and attempted to pick the conversation back up again, but she only snapped at him irritably and he decided it best to shut up for a bit.  He left her alone for a while, keeping the previous night’s conversation in mind, and when he was confident a few hours had passed he emulated taking a breath, steeled himself, and asked if she was okay.

I just got very tired all of a sudden.  I don’t want to talk anymore.  I don’t want to do anything.  I just want to go into sleep mode for a very long time.  Ten hours, maybe.  That sounds nice.

That didn’t sound all that long to Wheatley, but her sense of time was very different from his and a lot more precise.  Okay.  I’m, well, thanks for telling me, luv, instead of, y’know, uh, well –

Instead of being difficult, like I usually am?

Uh, yeah.  I was trying to think of a, of a nice way to put it, but uh -

There isn’t one.  Now shut up.

Wheatley thought it was the wisest thing to do and did so.  Later on in the day, though, he had a thought, and try as he might he couldn’t push it back inside his head.  He had to know, right then, right then and there, and it didn’t matter how annoyed with him she got, he had to know!

Gladys, I’ve got, I’ve got a question, and I need you to answer it, please.  I mean, uh, if you, if you could, that’d be, that’d be tremendous, luv, I’d really appreciate it.  Like really appreciate.  A lot.

All right.  What is it.

Wheatley took a breath and tried to relax.  This had to go as smoothly as possible.  They were on pretty good terms now, they were, and he didn’t want to spoil that if he could avoid it.  So he would be calm, and ask the question calmly, not panicking at all, not desperate, just… calm.

Are you, are you going to corrupt me?

That is a pretty important question, isn’t it.

Yeah, it is, it really is.  Have you got, do you know, is there an answer, to it, d’you think?

Yes, there is an answer.

D’you mind, uh, could you, um, tell me what it is?

No, I’m not going to corrupt you.

“YES!” Wheatley shouted, and only after a second of wondering why the human in the corner was now staring up at him did he realise that he’d said it out loud.  “Oh, hallo.  C’n I, c’n I help you?”

“Why are you yelling?”

Tell him you were testing your voice emulator.

Ohhhh, that’s a good idea, Gladys, thanks!

“Just wanted to make sure my vocal emulator still worked, was still working, mate!” he told him in as cheerful a voice as he could manage.

“It might be,” the scientist returned drily.  “You want to keep those tests a bit quieter?”

“Sure!”

The scientist shook his head and walked away.  Wheatley anxiously watched him go, but Gladys was decidedly disinterested.  

So, so, we’re okay, Gladys?  We’re, we’re friends again?  We’re all good, now?

Yes.  We’re fine.

That’s good, that’s, that’s tremendous.  I really quite like you, Gladys.  I really - I’m glad, I’m glad we’re friends.

After a long silence Gladys said quietly, So am I.

He didn’t think he’d ever been happier in his entire life.

They got on surprisingly well after that, and Wheatley got the impression she’d finally decided to trust him.  It was a big responsibility, to handle all that trust, it was, but Wheatley was determined to make it work.  They were in this together, after all, and there was no reason to be difficult.  He didn’t blame Gladys for being difficult, since it was how she dealt with the humans and was undoubtedly going to wash over him every now and again, but as long as he kept that in mind everything would be fine.  Previously content to let Wheatley natter on all day without ever saying a word, Gladys now had actual conversations with him.  Between his ability to talk nonstop and her infinite knowledge, the two of them were able to hold conversations on a single subject that would last for hours.  Since she was now actively talking to him, if the scientists bothered her he knew right away, and he would do his best to help her with whatever it was that upset her.  Partly because she wasn’t as fun when she was sad, because she was loads of fun when she wasn’t, but partly because her being sad made him sad.  He wanted his friend to be happy.  As time went on, he didn’t have to drag it out of her quite so much, which he liked, and eventually she would just tell him as soon as it happened.  

Gladys was now also a lot more helpful than she’d ever been.  She’d been pretty helpful before, but now she would help him without being asked.  Which he supposed was the same as what he was doing with her, but he appreciated it all the same.  Compromise.  That was the mark of a good friendship, right?

They were discussing the possible reasons there could be for humans having so much useless water in their bodies when Gladys spoke up suddenly.  What is it?

What’s what, luv?

You’re wiggling around rather a lot today.

Oh.  Oh, yeah.  Yeah, I guess I am, aren’t I.  Sorry ‘bout that, I can’t, uh, I can’t help it.

Is it your itch?

Just the mention of it made it worse.  He was just about ready to jump out of his chassis, it was so bad.  Oh god, luv, don’t talk about it, it’s, god, it’s horrible, I can’t, oh, oh no –

He was literally squirming now, trying to fight off that voice in his head that told him to take control of Gladys, who was only being nice to him to toy with him, so that he would do what she wanted –

No no no no she’s not like that –

Not like what?

Nothing.  Just – nothing.  Don’t – don’t think about it.  It’s fine, everything’s all fine, here.  Yeah.

Tell me what it is.  If I can get away with it, I’ll do it.

Really?  His voice rose hopefully.  You’ll really do it, Gladys?

If it’s reasonable, yes.

It was like the wall he’d built to hold it all back had broken, and all of a sudden all he could think of was things he should ask her to do.  To make her do.  He didn’t even know if she understood a word he said, because he was falling over himself trying to find something to make the pressure go away, and when he finally stopped talking he almost felt tired.

Huh.  You’ve got more self-control than I thought.  Congratulations.

Thanks! He continued twitching, hoping fervently that there had been something in there that wouldn’t be too bad for her to do.  He honestly didn’t know if he could hold on much longer.  He wanted to control her so badly…

You were telling me how you noticed that all of the computers are in English, but not all of the employees are.

Well, yeah!  Wheatley nodded enthusiastically. It’s, it’s racist, that’s what it is.  That, that Asian guy, from, from Robotics, shouldn’t he, shouldn’t his computer be in Asian?  Or whatever language, whatever he speaks?

Hm… he appears to be from Singapore.

So he should be able to have his computer in Singaporean!

Malay, actually.  But that certainly is a lot more fair than it is right now.

You see?  It’s, we’ll be, we’ll be creating, uh, workplace equality!  That’s always, that’s a good goal to reach for, right Gladys?  Oh god he was so close.  Even while she was trying to let him influence her, he could feel her fighting him, hear her processors struggling to come up with a reason why this was a bad idea.  But the pressure was still there, and it was getting worse, and worse, and he had to make her do as she was told.  

But just because that’s his lineage doesn’t mean –

Then you can encourage him to learn about his home country!

It’s… I shouldn’t force someone to learn something…

Oh come on.  That’s your job!  To educate the humans!  Well, here’s a very, a great way of doing that.  Bring a bit of their culture, a bit of their home, to the workplace.  And make things a bit more equal.  Really, Gladys, you should have thought of this yourself.  There it was.  That was it.  She’d listen to him now, ohhh yes.

I should have! Gladys said with surprise.  You’re right!  Why didn’t I think of it?  I must be slipping.  I’ll fix that right away.  Thank god you’re here to –

They both froze; Wheatley because the pressure was gone, and Gladys because she had just bent to his influence and had almost thanked him for it.

No.  No, I didn’t mean that.  It was stupid.  It’s stupid.  He doesn’t even speak Malay.  I know that.  All I’ve done is undermine his already low productivity for the day.  Not to mention all the other idiots whose computers I just modified.  

I’m sorry, luv.

No… no, it’s all right.  

I didn’t want to do that to you.

I know.  It’s all right.  I’m just… disappointed with myself, that’s all.

Oh, it’s okay, I was putting quite the, uh, I was, um, well, I really needed that.  Thank you, Gladys.

You’re welcome.  You don’t have to wait that long, by the way.  Just… be nice about it.

He was tempted to ask if he could go ahead and do it right then, because he was feeling pretty good about himself and what he’d done, but then he remembered that his Gladys was now upset with herself for listening to him, and asking her to do something else already would not be very nice.  So he took a breath, propped the wall back up again, and asked, So has anyone ever tried, y’know, getting all of the extra water out of the humans?

Hm?  Oh… yes.  There was an experiment here a while back, actually, now that you mention it…



Every once in a while Wheatley would let Gladys know when the itch was too uncomfortable, and she would listen to his ideas and try not to do them, but she would, and he would feel terribly satisfied with his power and have to fight himself not to keep going.  He knew that if he kept pushing her, she would do whatever he wanted, but every time he came close to actually doing it he would hear her say, Friends don’t do what you just did, and he would give himself a shake and talk himself out of it.  She was his friend and she was helping him.  It was not nice of him to take advantage of her kindness.  

It wasn’t just that, either.  He had reached some whole new level with her, he knew and if he was selfish ever again, that would be that.  He liked it when Gladys told him everything.  He liked it when she listened to him.  He liked this feeling, of being her friend, her very best friend, and he hoped very much he would not crumble and give it all up to feel powerful for a while.

Oi, Gladys, he said after mulling it over for a while, we’re pretty good friends, now, aren’t we?

I would say so.

Why is that, luv?  I mean, don’t get me wrong, I like it this way, I really, I do, but uh, what made you change your mind?

She was quiet for a long minute, during which time she started moving back and forth a little.

Because you were right, she answered finally.

About what?  Honestly, he was pretty surprised.  He didn’t think he’d ever been right before.

When I tried to lie to you.  You told me it should go both ways.  I thought about it, and I realised that it really wasn’t.  I wasn’t doing my part.  I was expecting to get something for nothing, and I realised that was something humans did that ruined their own friendships.  Well, I’m not going to make the same mistakes humans do.  I don’t ignore problems.  I solve them.  So I solved my problem.  I compromised.  Because you’re my friend.

Gladys, Wheatley told her in his most serious voice, if I had arms, I would hug you.  Right now.  Just, I’d just go for it.  Even though you wouldn’t like it.  And you’d probably throw me across the room for being so human.  And then you’d prob’ly yell at me too.  But I’d do it anyway.  It’d be worth it.  To just, to give you a hug, just one time.  There wouldn’t be a second time, would there, hm, you’d prob’ly rip my arms off…

Gladys gave one of her rare giggles and answered, I’d take steps to prevent it happening again, that’s for sure.  But I might not mind it.  Once.  Just once.

If I ever become equipped with arms, I’ll keep that in mind.  He looked down at the floor, hesitant.  There was something else he really wanted to say, but he didn’t know if he should.  He didn’t want to ruin anything, and Gladys was in such a good mood lately, but he desperately wanted to tell her and he didn’t know if he could hold off.  Finally he decided to go for it.  They were friends.  She would forgive him.  Gladys, I, I just wanted to mention, um, just wanted to say, that is, well –

Mmhm?

I like it when you make that noise.

What noise?

That one you just made.  Before, before you told me, well, after I told you there wouldn’t be a second time.

Oh.  That… noise.  I… didn’t mean to, it was… accidental.

Well, I like it.  I like it when, when you laugh.  It’s nice.  

He looked ashamedly at the floor.  He’d just told her he liked it when she exhibited a decidedly human behaviour.  That was stupid, really stupid.  He’d gone and done it this time.  He cringed, waiting for the reprisal that was sure to come.

Thank you, she said gently.

His optic shot back up.  There were a hundred things he thought of saying, but when it came right down to it, there was only one thing he should say, and he did, in a shy voice he didn’t quite recognise but which spilled out of him anyways.  You’re welcome, luv!

… you moron, she added.

What – I am not! Wheatley sputtered.   I am not a moron!

Yes you are.

No, no I’m not, I’m not a moron, what about all my ideas, eh, aren’t some of them good?  I’m not a moron.

Yes you are.

No!  No, I’m not.

Yes you are.  I think you’re a moron, and I know everything, therefore you are a moron.

You do not know everything!  What’s what’s a million divided by a million, then, Ms Smarty–

One, she answered. A million divided by a million is one.

Oh.  Oh, wow.  Well done.  Well done.  I don’t, I honestly don’t think I could have figure that out.  Wow.  That was astonishing.  But!  Still not a moron.

They argued about it until Gladys shut them down for the night, but Wheatley could not remember the last time she’d been so happy.  And when his Gladys was happy, so was he.