A new year

"What do we want?"

"Tests!"

"When do we want them?"

"Right now!"

The delegation was great. It meant that those test subjects protesting within the test chamber were no longer my problem. I was free now to fully enjoy Archer's suffering.

He may have looked completely stoic to anyone else, but I knew him too well. That small twitch of his lips, the taut muscles in his arms as he was about to draw a bow, his focused glare, and more…

All subtle signs of distress. It only made him more beautiful. I licked my lips. It awakened warmth in my groin and a certain carnal hunger.

"Are you sure there's no way to let them out?" he asked as we both watched the protest on the monitors in the control chamber.

It wasn't all of the test subjects; there wouldn't be room for all of them, even if all thirty test chambers were deployed. It was just the ones Archer had on the current schedule—about a dozen or so, all in their twenties.

"No, I performed a detailed spiritron spectral analysis. The disclaimer was completely correct. All those I examined utterly lack souls," I said, taking Tohsaka's lecturing position number 3, patent-pending, and explained in more detail. "The soul is not a law of the physical world but something of a higher order, the record of all bodies within the concept of the astral world. Without it, the universe does not recognize their existence. It is not relevant while they remain in this isolated space, but should they try to leave… In the best case, they would be immediately erased."

Archer's eyes widened; his voice tinged with desperation. "Could you somehow fix that?"

I sighed. "No. Creating a soul from nothing is a feat beyond any mortal, even a Sorcerer."

"A fake one?"

He was really grasping at straws here. But it had been almost two months and he was no closer to the solution.

"If it were that easy, we would be drowning in Things that are Not. That's why I said the best-case scenario would be them being erased. One very unfortunate possibility is that they would be cast outside existence. Deported like undocumented migrants. And I can assure you that that not-place is much worse than Mexico." I sighed, already losing interest in the discussion. There were no easy solutions. "They're all volunteers. At least, that's what the archived Aperture questionnaires they supposedly completed indicate."

Or rather, the people they were based on had completed the questionnaires. The reality of these test subjects, however, remained a bit ambiguous.

"Are you ordering me to give them what they want?"

"No. This is your project. Resolve it in a way you like. But remember, you cannot save those who do not wish to be saved. It would no longer be salvation, but tyranny."

I had already derived some interesting insights from the Aperture Science Data Collection and Human Suffering Enablement Chamber, particularly from the Science Data Collection aspect. Using it, I managed to finally conduct a comprehensive analysis of a few Orc corpses I had stored. The results were fascinating. Orc blood was black because it was infected by a peculiar species of slime mould, the only recorded parasitic species of its kind.

Besides infecting blood, slime mould was heavily present in brain matter, especially in parts that dealt with pleasure and empathy. It also spread throughout almost all organs and tissues.

This species of slime mould was clearly designed or heavily modified from a natural species, and the creator was quite obvious.

While it involved a bit of conjecture on my part, since it wouldn't be possible to test it ethically, the slime mould parasite also had a semi-beneficial effect on the host. The more the host was exposed to things that aligned with the nature of Morgoth, its creator, the stronger the host organism became. This created a self-reinforcing feedback loop that would explain much of the observed Orc culture.

Interestingly, the mould's effects extended to the dynamics within Orc society as well. Orcs often enslaved other Orcs, and the mould would adapt accordingly. For those who showed cruelty, it would make them stronger and better leaders, while those who suffered at their hands would become more resilient, able to endure more pain and torment. This sinister symbiosis ensured that the cycle of violence and suffering continued, further solidifying Morgoth's control over the Orcs and their actions.

Morgoth's work was sublime in malice, refined in cruelty, and almost joyful in its nihilism. Disturbing to observe but undeniably brilliant. Inspired by it, I created Blood Slime, my next iteration in personal slime familiars.

"Just a little tyranny wouldn't hurt," Archer muttered more to himself.

I pretended not to hear it.

"Nowadays protesting seems to be quite a popular pastime."

Protests were common after the election. By those who thought that GrannyG was a hero who saved the country and those who thought her a villain who stole the election.

"And whose fault is that?" Although his words were accusing, his tone was teasing.

Well, technically GLaDOS, but I was quite willing to share the credit. Even if the chaos exceeded my expectations, I was pleased by the results.

"It was one way to get rid of the snake."

I referred to the vaguely threatening result of lithomancy. But that was just an excuse.

To save the world from an alien invasion by buying out Black Mesa, I needed resources. I could have earned them by selling the cure for AIDS or by selling weapons.

Either way, I could achieve my aim, but it was my personal preference to earn money by saving lives rather than ending them.

Not that I was being a hero or anything like that. That was Archer's fetish. It was a job. A paying one.

"If you would go that far, you should have had me snipe him. It would have been less chaotic."

Sometimes I forgot how ruthless Archer could be, but then he would remind me. During his time in war-torn Third World countries, he had probably assassinated quite a lot of local warlords.

"If we had acted in that way, we wouldn't be understood. Clarity is necessary. And for chaos and strife..." I shrugged, glancing at Archer, "The tree of liberty must be watered with the blood of innocents and the guilty alike."

"Shouldn't that quote go, 'blood of tyrants and patriots alike'?"

I smirked, "I think mine is more accurate. The original ignores all collateral damage. Not that I particularly care. I've done this for my own benefit. If the masses profit from it, then it's good. But I'm no bringer of salvation."

Archer studied me with a fond, amused gaze. His steel-coloured eyes were mesmerizing. I blushed. It had been far too long since we last made love. He really should have invested more energy in mastering the Spider Kiss curse, rather than wasting it with distractions.

"Look at you," he said with a teasing smirk, "Manipulating public opinion, using a riding crop as a wand. I really should ask, how much Bartolomei blood do you actually have?"

"Officially none." I moved to the console and swiftly designed a plan for a test course but didn't actually give the command to make it. "You could let them run this. To get it out of their system."

Archer looked at my creation, his face turning bright red, and exclaimed, "We're not shooting a porno!"

Yes. I populated it, but various sex toys. So what? The test subjects were all young and fit, and it was not as if I had any use for human test subjects. For science, my principal areas of interest were Artificial Intelligence, and quantum mechanics, none of which could benefit from testing on humans. At least not at this stage. And for magecraft, well, there was a problem with the test subjects lacking souls.

"GLaDOS had done very well in managing the first automated test course. Zero causalities. And she had somehow managed to use it to design an affordable Aperture brand personal computer," I suggested.

Affordable was a bit stretching it. The computer she designed costs as much as three Macs.

But considering its technical specifications, the fact that the user could converse with the machine, and the actual price of Personality Cores, that was quite an achievement.

One I still had no idea, how she had done it. How could those tests have led to those conclusions? It worked. I could not deny it. But the process left me quite confused.

"No."

I shrugged and began typing again.

"What are you doing?"

"Setting vending machines with snacks and drinks. And toilets," I replied absentmindedly, "If you plan to do nothing to resolve the situation, they will need them. We on the other hand must be our way. We will be late for the New Year's party otherwise." 

On our way through the Otherworld, we encountered now a common sight. Placing an incubus among robo-sluts had predictable results.

It was a delightful sight. Slender, pale android kneeling, while the tanned, muscled false prince rammed his hard cock into the android's pretty mouth.

I licked my suddenly dry lips and adjusted the hardness in my pants. The live-action porn was hot enough even without Incubus projecting lust all over. Both were designed for sex, one by science and the other by magecraft.

Archer and I were not intruding. Both participants were exhibitionists. The Incubus would savor the lust of the watchers, and the android was just programmed this way.

"Come we are late as it is," Archer interrupted, but there was a trace of frustration in his voice. Learning Serpent's Kiss cure was hard, pun intended. A single orgasm could destroy weeks of progress.

Or even worse. It could even be lethal. And the curse filled body, mind, and spirit with unbridled lust. A temptation that led to annihilation.

Born of lust, the curse could only be mastered through chastity. In that way, virtue was corrupted into wickedness.

And it was hard for me too. I had to watch my lover constantly needy and aroused, unable to do anything about it.

Compared to last year's, morale was much higher in the Aperture office during this New Year celebration. There were good reasons for that. Our debt, while not wholly gone, was much reduced, and there was great hope for the future.

The Aperture had added many new patents in the last year, from the first-ever eBook reader that allowed for the digital display and storage of text-based content, the blue LED which, when combined with already existing red and green LEDs, enabled the creation of white light, the stereolithography method, the first commercial 3D printing technology that used a UV laser to solidify liquid photopolymer resins into complex shapes, and a dozen more. We were well on our way to reclaiming our place in the yearly Top 100 Applied Science Companies Ranking.

Also, Aperture had the lowest death rate since it was a shower curtain company. And all the casualties turned out to be spies and traitors.

There was a lot to celebrate, including the stunning success of Aperture Publishing. 'Predatory Bonds' by Jane Smith, 'Harry Potter and the Photonic Crystal' by Doug Rattmann, 'Hero Forged in Fire' by Trevor McGee, and so many others.

That was enough of me praising myself. That, like a hand job, was something that was better done to me.

Also, I had a job to do, even if it was a rather tedious one. As the host, I had to greet everyone. No wonder my mind tended to wander.

Fortunately, that was almost done.

"Ted, I'm delighted you could make it," I greeted the last employee, our representative from the Hawkins office, with an amicable smile.

"Apologies for my tardiness. The drive took longer than I anticipated," Ted Wheeler replied, slightly flustered.

"Drive? But isn't our Hawkins office just a portal away?" I inquired, genuinely puzzled.

"I brought my son along. He was eager to meet his little girlfriend. I left him at the children's party. I hope that's all right," he asked with a touch of uncertainty in his voice.

"Of course," I reassured him, "He's more than welcome to join the other children."

I briefly considered offering Mike the use of the portal, but then I remembered that the long-distance relationship had done wonders in motivating Jane to practice astral projection. For girls of her age, observing a charming boy like Mike was far more captivating than keeping an eye on a stuffy Russian ambassador.

With that out of the way, it was now time to mingle. As Ted made his way to the refreshment table, which was laden with an array of appetizing, but not of Archer's make, finger foods, and drinks, I prepared myself to engage in lively conversations with my colleagues and guests.

Personally, I would prefer to be whipped. That was not a good example. Archer seemed to enjoy it so much that I could not help to be a bit curious.

Still, I was quite adept at feigning enthusiasm for things that didn't genuinely interest me.

"I hope that your drink is nonalcoholic, Trevor," I said, adopting a mock stern tone. "It's not yet legal for you to drink. You'll have to be patient for a few more years."

"It's just soda," the young cartoonist replied with a wry smile. "Considering my father's history, I don't think I'll ever be tempted to get drunk."

Knowing him, he was most afraid of losing his exceptional drawing talent. But then again, Trevor had always been good at prioritizing what mattered to him.

One of the young men who had been engaged in conversation with Trevor before I interrupted loudly gulped his drink. Drops of liquid glinted on his sparse moustache, and he grinned impishly.

"Mine was soda, too," he cheekily declared. Leo discreetly provided me with his name and background information. Andrew Towers, another graduate of the Orphan project who had declined further education and instead joined the custodial staff.

"Just keep it moderate, Andrew," I cautioned with a playful smile. "You'll be responsible for cleaning up any mess you make."

"Mine is just mineral water," the last young man chimed in, flexing his muscles slightly. "My body is my temple."

With another hushed prompt from Leo, I encouragingly said, "That attitude will serve you well in security, Ben."

As the conversation continued, the topic gradually shifted to Trevor's recently published comic. That was not surprising. That comic had made Trevor the star graduate of the Aperture Orphan Project.

"My favorite character?" Ben said, "I would have to say Rin."

"Come on. He barely appears. He's more of a plot device than a character," Andrew countered.

"I liked how Trevor drew him," Ben explained. "You can immediately know that he is something special. And he also made such a cool superhero costume for Shirou."

"There will be more of him, in the next volume," Trevor assured Ben, and then asked, "But which was your favorite, Andrew?"

"The villain, of course," Andrew boldly declared, gesturing with an empty glass, "I mean, he started as such a loser in high school, constantly getting bullied. It was even more embarrassing when the hero saved him, considering the hero was a few years younger. Then he failed to get into university, got kicked out of his home, and wound up in debt to the yakuza. It's just fascinating to see how he found that magic worm and went on a roaring rampage of revenge."

"What about you, Dr. Johnson?" Trevor asked me. "Which was your favourite?"

"I'm going to be a bit boring and say hero," I replied, without elaborating further, and then switched the topic of conversation towards Trevor's achievements, stating, "But it is certainly commendable that your comic has garnered such impressive sales, especially given the absence of the CCA stamp of approval. You should be proud of your accomplishment. It's truly remarkable."

Trevor ran his fingers through his ginger blond hair, his eyes filled with conviction as he spoke. "I would never compromise my artistic integrity for censorship. My work must remain true to my vision. Just look at underground comics like 'Love and Rockets' and 'American Splendor' – those are the real comics. They show everything, the beauty and the ugliness, without holding back. I don't believe in lying to children or shielding them from the truth." He raised his hand emphatically, emphasizing the passion he felt for his art and his views on censorship.

Andrew chimed in, enthusiastically supporting Trevor, but overdoing it a little. "Yeah, man! Screw censorship! Let art be free and uncensored!" He pumped his fist in the air, channelling his inner rebel without a cause. Unsurprisingly, he wore a T-shirt emblazoned with the cartoon face of Granny Goodness. It was quite popular among the youth.

Meanwhile, Ben's interest in the discussion seemed to wane. He glanced around the room, looking for something else to capture his attention.

"Aperture Science has a firm policy when it comes to regulators: avoid at all costs," I chimed in with a joking tone. Though said in jest, the statement held quite a bit of truth.

After that, I made my goodbyes but before I could leave, Trevor asked, "Can we talk in private? I want to ask you something."

"Of course," I replied and stepped aside. As Trevor joined me, I tapped the left cufflink with my finger. The small gem crumbled to dust; the Bounded Field was announced by subtle distortion in the air. There was blood in my nose, not a drop fell out, and it was quickly removed. Blood Slime at work. "You can talk freely now. No one can overhear us."

Trevor looked at the distortion and gulped, "Damien called you Rin."

"Yes?"

I wondered why he chose to bring it up now. It has been half a year since our little trip to Missing Mile.

"I drew the whole first issue while my mind wandered the Birdland."

He paused there, so I said, "True, while your mind was lost, your body drew. But that is the nature of what your father called Birdland. Naming it after his own comic, how very self-centred of him. But from what I had seen of him he was a very self-centered man. Still, you should not be afraid, it is still your own work. That place just helped draw it out."

"No. It was not that. Even if sometimes feels as if chronicling a true story. Am I? Are you also Rin from my story?"

Yes. And you are, was what I thought, but what I said was, "Does it matter?"

"I suppose not. But that was also not what I wanted to ask you about. It is simply hard. So, I have been going in a roundabout way. But no longer. Tell me, please, what happened to Birdland?"

"It was back where it belongs, in the dreams and nightmares of artists. A bloodthirsty muse, whispering to inspire and terrify. Glory and ruin in the same package. I must give credit to your father. It is usually men who are driven mad by contact with such places, and yet it was he who polluted the so-called Birdland with his own brand of insanity. The blood prices that Birdland demands are supposed to be metaphorical."

"Are you sure? Do you know why it's gone?"

"Yes, the explanation is simple. It was you who had it bound to this level of reality. Or rather, to say it was the difference between what time means here and there. That realm runs on narrative time. It is quite different from what we are used to, where the action is always followed by the consequence. Although that is not completely true, but let us not get into esoteric matters of quantum mechanics. To simplify, in that realm, future you saving child you is not only permissible but rather common. When the two intersected, it could not end until it was fully resolved. Once it did, it was just a matter of time. Such uncommon states cannot be maintained without energy expenditure, and two deaths were hardly enough."

Although the angel probably helped. What Archer unleashed reinforced what reality should be.

"That is how you saved Didi?"

I smiled encouragingly pleased by understanding, "Yes, I have used a wrinkle in time to replace the baby boy, with a doppelgänger, before your father could smash his head. How is he?"

"He is doing well. I on the other hand am still adjusting to being a teenage father. I know it was the best cover. But it does not help when people calculate time and with a former aversion to touch… Quite a lot of them believe I had been molested. And denials do not help."

"It is still better than truth." With that, I took down the Bounded Field and continued to mingle with the other guests.

I moved among the partygoers, briefly joining one group or another, giving encouragement and advice as needed. But that was mostly to show that I cared for each and every employee, even if I really did not. Leo silently informed me of each of their ambitions, fears, and other interesting information. The first I encouraged and guided into paths that were useful for me, the second I soothed.

I approached the group in which our celebrity patient was socializing, Hollywood's own tall, dark, and handsome. Although he was not so dark anymore, as there were greys in his hair, he was still very handsome.

Rock Hudson had bought one of our testing kits and found himself positive for AIDS. A little earlier than he did so in one of the timelines to which the internet I had access to. There was no mention of AIDS in HEAVENNET.

Whether because that disease did not jump to humans in that world, or it could be because any promiscuity, especially homosexual one, was likely to result in possession by the devil. I suppose that divinely enforced morality for good for something. Still, not the way I would like to live.

"...and so I told her, 'You may be the queen of Hollywood, darling, but this is a party, not a coronation!'"

Terry laughed heartily, her red hair bouncing with each chuckle. I was still getting used to the vibrant colour, just like the Clark Kent-esque glasses she wore as part of her disguise. Her new name, Terrianna "Terry" Evans, was also a necessary precaution. After all, she was still wanted by our government, and maintaining a low profile was crucial to her safety.

Was I imagining things, or was there almost a ghost of a smile on Jane's face? I meant Dr. Smith, not Terry's daughter. The younger Jane was having fun with the other children. With my approval, GLaDOS had turned the automated training course into a combination of a jungle gym and roller coaster, using Aperture gels. Knowing my devious AI, she was also running stealth tests on those children. But I didn't mind, as long as everyone was having fun, and no one was getting hurt.

The last, but the last of the group gathered around the movie star was Griffin-Iverson Josef, the Aperture Chief of Security. His name could be shortened to a G. I. Joe, which was funny, because Josef had been a promising officer until a general caught him having sex with his offspring. Daughter the general could forgive, but not a son.

"Do you mind if I join you?" I said as I approached the group. "You seem like you're having a lot of fun."

Rock Hudson flashed his signature smile and replied, "Of course! We always have room for the life of the party. Besides, how could we say no to our gracious host? Please, join us and share in the laughter!"

Jane gave her approval with the briefest of nods. Terry offered a bright, welcoming smile. And Josef said, "Ace, it has been a while."

"Has it?" I replied, a bit confused. His brown eyes bore into me, displaying an emotion I couldn't quite decipher. "We had a meeting just last week."

"But that was business."

"It has been a busy year," I gave an excuse. And it was even true. Between my administrative duties, scientific research, magecraft research, and taking care of rescued children, I barely had any free time. "But I think that the results are worth it. Look at all we achieved in just a year."

Rock Hudson leaned in with a sincere expression, "I've got to hand it to you and the whole Aperture team. The advancements you've made in testing and finding a cure for AIDS have been nothing short of miraculous. You've not only given me a new lease on life but countless others as well. You know, it's the kind of Hollywood ending that would make for a great movie, and you're the star, my friend!" He raised his glass with a smile, toasting to the incredible achievements.

Jane cleared her throat, drawing everyone's attention, and spoke with a cool, professional tone. "Mr. Hudson, while it's true that Aperture has made significant progress in the treatment of AIDS, I must remind you that you are not entirely free of the virus. It is crucial that you continue taking the prescribed medication to keep the disease in remission."

Rock responded with a warm tone, "I already told you to call me Rock, Jane." He paused for a moment, a genuine smile spreading across his face. "You might sound cold, but you can't fool me. I've read your book. It was a great comfort while I was hospitalized. Have you ever thought about turning it into a movie?"

"No," Jane simply replied. "Truth be told, I nearly tossed away the manuscript when I found it among my papers. If I didn't remember writing it, I would almost say that someone planted it there."

It was interesting to hear a first-person account of the effects of the Bounded Field. Jane couldn't see the hooded and winged figures that walked unseen among us, seductively whispering inspiration into unsuspecting humans, watching and protecting. These figures were the remaining thoughts of those who had died in the Enrichment Center, bound in angelic vessels.

"No, don't be modest. You took quite a novel approach to the vampire romance. You avoided the subject of damnation and presented the vampire as a human-eating predator, no different than a very smart tiger."

"I am aware of your opinion, Ms. Evans," Jane replied in the same even tone. "After all, you gave it when you convinced me to publish. After you went snooping through my papers." There was no recrimination in the good doctor's voice, just stating the fact.

"I'm not sorry," Terry replied, defending herself anyway. "I had a bad experience with another doctor. It may have made me a bit untrusting. Besides, otherwise, your brilliant work would be lost."

Rock Hudson leaned in, his eyes sparkling with curiosity, and said, "I can sense there's a story behind all this. Care to share, or is it one of those tales that's best kept a secret?" His charismatic smile and gentle humour made the question feel like an invitation rather than an intrusion.

"For both your and her safety, I would ask you to please drop this question," I interjected before Terry could reply. Then I steered the conversation back to the previous topic. "I was impressed by your idea of a vampire raising pigs, breeding them generation after generation, trying to get blood that tastes the same as human's. It's a clever approach to the problem. And you, Josef, have you read Jane's book?"

"No, I haven't read it," Josef replied, his tone nonchalant. "The subject matter isn't quite my cup of tea."

"You would like a less conventual pairing," I gently teased. We had a history. But it was just that: history. I was with Archer now, and until certain matters were resolved, we were quite exclusive.

"And what about you," I continued, turning towards the movie star, "What do you like about that book?"

Rock Hudson leaned forward, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "Romance," he boldly declared, his voice rich with emotion. "What's between Edward and Bella isn't sweet or sanitized. It's primal and self-destructive, like the love in older stories. A beautiful madness." He paused, his gaze intensifying. "Are you sure you don't want to make a movie about it, Jane? It could be worthy of several Oscars."

Jane regarded him coolly, her voice steady. "My time is too valuable to waste on entertainment. I have far too many patients, and it seems I'm the only one treating them."

Rock's eyes softened, his tone becoming more serious. "As one of the people you've saved from the jaws of death, I can't really dispute that. It's shameful how the hushed affliction of our time is treated."

"Hopefully, the new president will fix that," Josef chimed in, his voice firm and hopeful.

I suppressed a self-satisfied smile with practiced ease, careful not to reveal my emotions. No one, except GLaDOS and Archer, was supposed to know the truth behind GrannyG.

Terry scoffed, her skepticism evident. "Hope? I wouldn't trust the government so much. After everything I've been through, I've learned that appearances can be deceiving. The new president speaks well, but we have yet to see what he can accomplish. Even if he's honest, he's not alone. And I wouldn't trust other suits farther than I could throw them." I raised my eyebrow at her remark, and she corrected herself with a wry smile, "Without the use of a psychic amplifier, of course."

Rock, sensing the need for a change of subject, smiled warmly at Terry. "You know, an angel of mercy like yourself should be using her powers to bring comfort and healing to those in need—like you did for me and others—rather than throwing people around, even if they do deserve it."

I braced myself. If the movie star thought that would steer Terry to a subject she was less passionate about, he was about to learn how wrong he was.

Terry's eyes blazed with determination as she launched into her passionate speech. "You know, Rock, it's not just about providing comfort and healing to those in need, it's about changing the whole dang system. Our abilities, these psychic gifts we've been given, they shouldn't be used to create weapons of destruction. No, sir, they should be used to heal, to protect, and to mend the broken world we live in. We've gotta be a force for good, not just another pawn in their twisted game."

Her accent tended to slip a bit when she was riled up. I sighed. It wasn't that she was completely wrong, but there were good reasons for our actions. The undeniable fact was that psychics were rare. Far too rare for widespread use. And there was another fact, one she wasn't aware of. So-called psychic amplifiers were actually Mystic Codes made by me. Considering the number of users of magecraft in this world equaled exactly two, it was an unsustainable practice.

In other words, this was a con. I planned to sell enough of them to equip an elite squad at most, at the price of a battleship. Not that I could tell Terry that.

Josef crossed his arms in front of himself and scoffed, "As long as you don't mind being helpless. Modern witch hunters may wear white coats instead of black, but I don't think that's any comfort for those who end up in their torture laboratories. If psychics were part of the military, at least they would be safer. The military takes care of their own."

Terry turned to the ex-soldier, bristling, "Do they? I think you know best how accepting they are of those who are different."

Josef's face was stoic, but I knew him well enough to read the minute twitches. That hurt him. Even after all this time, he still believed that he was the one in the wrong, not those who had tossed him out. That was one of the reasons why we had parted ways.

I nodded, acknowledging Terry's concerns. "Terry, in the end, it would be the individual psychic's choice whether they prefer to serve in the military or remain a civilian. Our goal here at Aperture is to expand choices, not narrow them."

"Will they have that choice?" Terry questioned.

"The amplifiers are key," I explained. "If the amplifiers are rarer than the psychics themselves, then they, and not the psychics, become the critical resource. We've talked about this before. Let's save it for a strategy meeting. We don't want to bore our guests."

Rock chimed in, "No, it was quite interesting to hear. I'm glad it's Aperture doing such research and not some madman like Dr. Brenner."

At the mention of that name, Terry clenched her fists, her anger evident to someone who knew her.

I decided it was time to lighten the mood and focus on more positive topics. Turning to Hudson, I asked, "So, Rock, now that you're cured, what are your plans for the future?"

Hudson grinned, looking pleased to share his intentions. "Well, Ace, I've been thinking about going public with my story and organizing some charity events to help more people gain access to Aperture's testing and treatments for AIDS."

"In that case, I would recommend you talk to Dwight. He's doing something similar. In partnership with us, he already organized a booth with free testing at the first Folsom Street Fair. I can introduce you to him; he's somewhere at this party too. But aren't you worried about the backlash? Going public could really hurt your career."

"No, I'm not afraid. Coming face to face with death has made me reassess my priorities. It's helped me focus on what really matters and the dangers of silence."

"You're not the only one," Josef chimed in, his voice full of enthusiasm as he gestured broadly, "I've got many new recruits from the ranks of former soldiers who have been treated. They're eager to join a cause where it truly matters and to experience the camaraderie of brotherhood once again." He paused, his eyes gleaming with determination, "But the difference is, this time they won't be cast out for whom they love."

And in the process, we gained loyal security personnel who also became fiercely loyal customers, all for the same reason – our unique, life-saving medicine. Wasn't it nice when things worked out?