Hawkings Aperture Branch

"Jane, there are two kinds of portals we use here," I began, gently adjusting her safety belt. My tone naturally shifted into a lecturing cadence, necessary for unravelling the intricacies of the portal network. She absorbed every word, her brown eyes reflecting a deep well of curiosity. Whenever a complex idea seemed to momentarily ensnare her understanding, a soft frown creased her brow, yet she held her queries in check.

This, I mused, was a direct consequence of Brenner's heavy-handed approach. In the realm of scientific experimentation, control is key, but with intelligent subjects like Jane, fostering dialogue often yields invaluable insights. Curiosity and the art of questioning were not just to be tolerated but actively nurtured.

Shaking off these reflections, I gave Jane a reassuring glance, double-checking that her harness was securely fastened.

She was seated in an oval-shaped chair, its sleek white metal embodying the quintessential Aperture futuristic aesthetic. Designed for both comfort and utility, the chair was ready to be clutched by the waiting robotic arms and whisked along the conveyor belt at dizzying speeds through the portal. Given the portal's limited window of operability, we prioritized efficient and rapid movement, ensuring the maximum transportation of individuals and materials in the time available.

I continued explaining the concept, hoping to distract Jane and make the process less scary for her. "One type of portal is hard to keep open and must cross dimensional boundaries. It only leads to strange places outside our universe, like one where your friend Will had gotten lost."

She frowned a bit, at the mention of Will's adventure. I knew from her psych reports, that she still felt rather guilty about the whole affair.

"The other needs line of sight to aim, and special surfaces to form. Or least surface covered in Conversion Gel." I was oversimplifying, but then I was speaking to a fourteen-year-old girl. The education she received here in the Enrichment Center was top-notch, but portal science was still above her level. "To avoid confusion, I will call the first type gates, and the second type portals."

However, as I looked at her, I realized that Jane wasn't scared at all. Instead, she seemed excited, as if anticipating a thrilling amusement park ride. Her eyes sparkled with anticipation, and it was clear she was eager to embark on this new adventure.

"So, we use one type of portal to open the other. It's a bit like starting a campfire with a lighter. You could use lighter fluid to burn the campfire, but it would be wasteful. You could start the fire by rubbing two sticks together, but that would be hard. By combining different properties in clever ways, we can do it easily and efficiently. So, this is how it works: Two gates are opened in the reflection of Hawkins, facing each other, one from the source and the other from the destination. Then we shoot the other portal through it."

"Are the...gates the same as the one I...um...opened when I... contacted the... monster?" Jane's voice dipped to a whisper as she stumbled over the last few words, her eyes filled with a mix of curiosity and a hint of guilt.

I took a moment before responding, gathering my thoughts. "Firstly, Jane," I began gently, "we don't call them 'monsters'. They're Exotic Life Forms or ELFs for short."

She looked taken aback at the correction, her eyes widening slightly. But she nodded, slowly absorbing the new terminology.

"It's crucial to understand," I continued, "that labelling something a 'monster' only serves to alienate it, to make it an unknown, scary 'other.' That gives it power over us. When we identify something, understand it, it becomes less frightening. That's why we call them ELFs."

There was another reason I insisted on it, I thought to myself as I met Jane's eyes. Monsters kill humans and are killed by heroes. And to complete the cycle, heroes are often killed by humans. This concept is deeply ingrained in all our myths, possessing a kind of 'mythological inertia,' if you will.

As I observed Jane, I could feel the pull of that cycle, of that fate, tugging at her and her friends. Drawing them into those roles. And it was something to be avoided. Heroes rarely get to enjoy happy endings.

Suddenly, the smooth, cold voice of GLaDOS filled the room, interrupting my train of thought.

"Final notice. T-minus five minutes to portal opening for the Hawkins facility," she announced in her typically emotionless tone. "Ensure all containers are secured and all passengers are in their designated seats. Compliance is not just appreciated, it is expected. "

There was a pause, and then she added, "Thought for the day: 'Failure is not an option—it's a step towards success.'"

Her voice echoed off the metallic walls, leaving us in momentary silence. The countdown had begun.

As I settled into my own seat, just behind Jane's, I quickly secured the safety belt. The cold metal chair gripped me firmly in its hold as GLaDOS made her next announcement.

"Shipping commences now. Remember, as per protocol, any unsecured containers and passengers not in their designated seats will not be transported to the Hawkins facility."

Almost immediately, a robotic arm swung down from above, its grip firm yet gentle. The black oval of Jane's chair disappeared upwards, picked by the mechanical arm, leaving my vision filled with the sterile glare of the laboratory lights.

Then, it was my turn.

The cold metal grip of the arm closed around my chair, lifting me off the ground. I was moved onto a conveyor belt, and in a blink of an eye, was rushing towards a shimmering portal at the end of the line.

As I neared the portal, I spotted the familiar red light of a laser at its top. Internally, I noted to myself, that light was crucial—it synchronized the local networks between facilities. We were transferring not just people and goods, but also data. The essence of Aperture Science, captured in a beam of light.

The world twisted as I entered the portal, a sensation not unlike a roller coaster's drop. My stomach lurched in response. On the other side, I was immediately caught by another conveyor belt. The familiar setting of the Enrichment Center had been replaced with the Hawkins facility.

The robotic arm released its grip on my chair, and I was whisked away on the conveyor. I could see the black oval of Jane's chair, just ahead of me, coming to a gentle stop in the arrival zone. A moment later, I joined her, taking in the new surroundings as my chair was placed down next to hers.

The transition, though unsettlingly swift, had been flawless.

"Welcome to Hawkins facility!" boomed a cheerful voice. The announcer core continued, "Please remember to gather all your personal items before disembarking from the transportation area."

As I unfastened my safety belt and stepped out, my attention was immediately drawn to Archer approaching. He wore a lab coat, which did little to conceal the tight black pants and skin-tight muscle shirt underneath, outlining his well-defined, delicious muscles. In any other workplace, this might have been unprofessional, but Aperture had a relaxed dress code. As long as scientists wore lab coats, no one would think twice, even if someone chose to wear a swimsuit underneath or a plasma ball as a hat.

Accompanying him was a conspicuously young security guard, likely not even old enough to legally drink in America. Dressed in a futuristic military uniform, he was a stark contrast to Archer's casual yet striking attire. Aperture often used its security team to test experimental military equipment, a policy that was evident in the guard's gear.

"An emergency?" I queried. Our plan was for me to meet with him after I got Jane settled. And there was something curious about his companion. For a security guard, he was rather under-armed. That must mean he was a rookie - Aperture policy dictated that all safety courses had to be completed before dangerous equipment, like weapons, could be issued. Nonetheless, I continued walking towards Jane, who was also emerging from her transport chair. "Do we have a breach?"

"No breach, but we need to talk right now," Archer responded, his gaze serious. "That's why I brought him along." He gestured towards the guard. "He will look after the girl."

"I promised Terry I'd look after her. I can't just pawn her off on some random security personnel."

"I didn't choose him randomly," Archer assured me, before turning to Jane, "Hello Jane. Let me introduce Steve Harrington. He'll be taking care of you."

"Nancy's Steve?" Jane asked, her voice filled with surprise.

"That's... complicated," Steve replied awkwardly, taking off his helmet. His brown hair flopped over his forehead in a loose, casual style. "But yes, I'm the one you're thinking about."

"Good. Steve, do you mind if I call you Steve? Take her to her friends, then stick with them and keep them safe." Given the current situation, Hawkins might not be as safe as I had initially assumed.

"I don't need a guard!" Jane protested immediately.

"Perhaps not a guard, but a chaperone could be handy. I don't think Terry is ready to become a grandmother just yet," I teased, a smirk playing on my lips.

"Yes, sir," Steve responded, awkwardly attempting a salute.

"We're not military, Harrington," Archer cut in dryly. "Now off you go. I need to speak with Dr. Johnson privately. It's urgent."

As Steve and Jane departed, their retreating footsteps echoing faintly in the bustling atmosphere of the facility, Archer gestured for me to follow him. With an air of urgency cloaking him, he led the way to an unobtrusive door, located at the end of a long, somewhat nondescript corridor.

Beyond the door was a small storeroom, a space filled with the quiet hum of idling equipment and the faint, sharp scent of sterile cleanliness that seemed to permeate the entirety of the facility. Shelves upon shelves lined the room, filled with neatly stacked boxes and crates of various sizes. The flickering overhead light cast long, wavering shadows on the concrete floor, giving the room an air of stillness and isolation, despite the hive of activity just outside its confines.

Following him in, I couldn't help but feel the contrast between the vibrant hustle of the facility and this quiet, unassuming little room. With the door closed behind us, it felt like we had stepped into a completely separate world, a bubble of tranquillity amidst the frantic rush of scientific progress happening beyond the walls.

Understanding the gravity of the situation, my gaze dropped to my right wrist. The bracelet that lay there seemed mundane to the casual observer, a simple piece of jewellery. But its inconspicuous exterior hid an array of gems, each one glowing faintly under the room's stark artificial light.

Resolutely, I reached out and lightly brushed one of the gems with my fingers - a small, vivid blue topaz. It responded to my touch, the facets catching and scattering the room's light into a vibrant kaleidoscope of colours. As I closed my eyes, I channelled my Od into the stone, feeling the familiar pulse of mana reverberate within it. In an instant, the gem lost its glow, its life force sacrificed for a greater cause.

Almost imperceptibly, a hum began to resonate within the room, the silent whisper of the protective Bounded Field coming to life around us. This powerful enchantment, born from the sacrificed gem, provided a barrier against prying ears, ensuring our conversation remained confidential. Now, we could discuss the gravity of the situation with complete privacy.

"The equipment has detected exotic radiation. Simultaneously here and in Siberia. Combined with the increased magnetic flux beneath Starcourt Mall... The Russians have begun testing their gate," Archer began, his voice as cool and measured as always.

"Seems premature. Apparently, Project Wet Dreams hasn't been as effective as I'd hoped," I mused, only to catch a glimpse of Archer's wince. "Problem?"

Archer sighed, a hint of exasperation in his voice. "I shouldn't have let you name the projects. It was amusing at first, now it's just embarrassing."

I couldn't help but chuckle at his discomfort. "I deployed my incubus familiar to exhaust the Russians in Hawkins through their dreams. What else should I have named it?" I paused, a playful smirk forming. "To Russia with Love?"

"That... is somehow even worse. But we have an immediate decision to make," Archer said, his tone turning serious.

"And what do you suggest?" I asked, leaning in slightly, signalling my readiness for action.

"We strike tonight. If they're testing the device, that means they've assembled it. We move in as soon as the mall closes," Archer stated firmly.

"But if we wait, the gate swings both ways. We could seize the device here and in Russia," I countered, trying to weigh the options.

"Too risky. And we must report to Dr. Owens. We can't risk damaging the reputation of our gate monitoring equipment. We need those government contracts," he argued, his gaze intense, reflecting the gravity of the situation.

"You have a point. Notify Dr. Owens immediately. Without knowledge of Starcourt Mall's true owners, it'll take at least a day to figure it out. By then, we should've cleaned up the place. Finding the remains along with incapacitated Russians should tell quite the story," I conceded, already planning the next steps in my mind.

"I'm relieved we're not planning to kill anyone unnecessarily," Archer admitted with a slight sigh of relief.

"It's only practical. Live prisoners are more useful to us," I remarked pragmatically.

Archer and I ensconced ourselves within the invisible safety of my Bounded Field, transforming the small storeroom into our war room. Half an hour was all we had, but we were determined to make each minute count.

Archer employed Gradation Air, crafting from thin air a physical model of Starcourt Mall. It was three-dimensional, detailed, and in every way superior to what I'd seen before. It reminded me a little of Adam's model back in Winter River, but this was on an entirely different level. Archer's model was meticulous, practically pulsating with precise information, the hidden facets of the mall marked with annotations glowing in vibrant hues.

Tiny pins shaped like swords marked the critical points on the model, creating a colourful topography of our mission. I wove in the insights of Boaz, Leo, and Arnold, and the reconnaissance data from my familiars, painting a broad and granular picture of every corner of the mall.

Our minds worked in tandem, two separate gears turning in perfect synchrony. In the whirlwind of suggestions and corrections, facts and counter-facts, we adhered to the principle of KISS—Keep It Simple, Stupid—stripping away complexity in favour of simplicity and effectiveness.

Our planning done, Archer swept his hand, and the model shattered into a thousand motes of light, dissolving into nothingness. The plan existed now only in our minds, its sequence clear, contingencies considered. We were ready.

"Make sure to wipe the blood from your face, or people might get the wrong idea about what we've been doing here," I warned Archer as he blinked in surprise.

"Ah, I'm getting so used to it, I almost forgot," Archer admitted, dabbing away the trickle of blood from his nose with a bit of cloth. A smirk played on his lips. "Then again, given that we've spent the last half-hour locked away in a small storeroom, there's only so many excuses we could make."

His tone took a turn for the flirtatious as he added, "We could always give some truth to the rumours."

I had to laugh at that. "If only I didn't have that opening to attend to. Can I trust you with handling the remaining details for tonight?"

He nodded, all business again. "As we planned."

"One more thing," I continued, handing him the attaché case. "Now that dealing with the other problem in Hawkins has been delayed, please keep this safe."

Just a short distance away, nestled in the expansive Aperture Hawkins Facility, lay the heart of our showcase - the Aperture Science Innovations Exhibit. This architectural marvel, a seamless blend of glass and steel, was entirely conceived by our top-tier AI, GLaDOS. Each component of the design subtly promoted the promising future brought by Aperture's technological miracles.

Despite my delayed arrival to the grand opening, the charismatic Mayor of Hawkins, Larry Kline, had already commandeered the stage, ensnaring the audience with his rehearsed eloquence. To the casual observer, Kline was a polished apple; charismatic and dedicated. In reality, he was more akin to a worm-riddled fruit, a narcissist only caring about his public image, while utterly indifferent to the town's citizens. Yet, his venality had proven useful to me.

However, that usefulness was nearing its end. Someone would have to be the scapegoat for the Russian incursion, and Kline had greedily accepted their money. His usefulness in my climb to power was ending. The truth of the world is that the people useful in gaining power aren't always those needed to retain it. Like many a revolutionary before him, Kline would understand this, but only a moment too late, right as he'd bask in his perceived triumph.

After all, if he could be bought once, he could be bought again. For me, and for Aperture, a prosperous and stable Hawkins was crucial. It was currently the only place where a monumental project like the Portal Hub could be constructed.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," Kline announced, "Allow me the honor of introducing Dr. Alexander Johnson, the ingenious mind behind this extraordinary enterprise. As the CEO of Aperture, he is the catalyst for change in our modest town."

Ascending the podium beside Kline, I surveyed the heterogeneous crowd before us: eager consumers, tech enthusiasts, curious bystanders, and most significantly, the press. Their presence was unusually large for an event of this scale. My public appearances had become infrequent, which turned this event into an attraction for them, allured by the possibility of probing questions. I had been the nexus of several notable developments, not least of which was the groundbreaking cure for AIDS developed under my stewardship at Aperture.

Tucked at the edge of the crowd were Jane and her young boyfriend Mike, along with their band of friends, overseen by Harrington.

As I took centre stage, the audience's attention swivelled to me. I began the meticulously prepared speech, crafted by the GLaDOS. With conviction, I shared the groundbreaking technology Aperture had introduced to Hawkins, our commitment to enhancing lives, generating employment, and bolstering the local economy. I wove narratives of our showcased inventions into my speech, infusing the discourse with light-hearted humour and offering a sanitized glimpse into Aperture's creative process.

"From its very inception, Aperture has blazed trails in the realms of science and technology... Our journey is a testament to the relentless determination and unprecedented innovation, a journey that began with humble shower curtains and now dares to touch the moon..."

"Aperture stands as more than a mere business; we represent a thriving community... We strive not just to offer jobs, but to shape a future, brick by visionary brick... Aperture is committed to giving back to the community… raising and nurturing orphans… Trevor McGee, the acclaimed cartoonist, is one of our greatest success stories. He will be conducting a workshop for those interested in comic artistry in the coming days..."

"Behind each piece of technology on display today lies an intriguing tale... Consider, for instance, the Propulsion Gel, an innovation born from a straightforward idea: what if indulgent food could simply rush through your digestive system..."

"Then there is our first commercial computer, which transformed how we interact with machines... And let's not forget the Aperture lemon-based biofuel, a testament to our commitment to a sustainable future...When life hands you lemons, why not use them to fuel your car..."

"Our innovative spirit also gave birth to the Aperture 3D printer, revolutionizing the way we produce and create... Every invention, every product, is a narrative of trials, triumphs, and the unyielding pursuit of the extraordinary..."

"While we take immense pride in our groundbreaking accomplishments, we do not rest on our laurels... The boundary of scientific discovery continues to expand, and Aperture is steadfastly leading the charge..."

"So, let it be known, at Aperture, we make the impossible, possible. Thank you, and allow yourself to immerse in the future we've painstakingly crafted for you, today..."

With the final words of my speech hanging in the air, I paused, allowing them to seep into the audience's consciousness. The room fell silent for a brief moment, a silent vacuum that sucked in anticipation and held it, tight. And then, as if on cue, applause erupted. It filled the hall, an electrifying symphony of clapping hands, enthusiastic cheers, and excited whistles. As the CEO of Aperture, this was the reaction I had anticipated—expected, even.

But then, this was all a well-crafted distraction, a smoke screen for our true ambitions in Hawkins. As our Russian friends would say, maskirovka. "Thank you, thank you," I responded, my smile broad and warm. "Now, let's open the floor to questions. Please, don't be shy."

A journalist from a notable tech paper raised her hand, her spectacles glinting under the spotlight. "Is it true that your personal computer is currently the most expensive on the market, costing four times as much as the next most expensive machine?"

I nodded, acknowledging the truth in her statement. "Yes, that's true. But its technical specs are several magnitudes better than any other commercial computer. I believe quality is worth the price," I replied, the corners of my mouth curling upwards in a confident smile.

As the crowd murmured and scribbled notes, my mind meandered to the reality of the situation. Considering that we're borrowing tech from an alternate future and employing AI for its design, it's hardly surprising, I mused internally.

Before I had a chance to dwell on the thought, another question was pitched by a different tech journalist. "Steve Jobs claims that the next version of Mac would surpass the specs of your computer. What's your response to that?"

"I wish him luck," I responded with an amiable shrug, my gaze steady on the inquirer. "Competition fosters progress. But don't think for a second that we're planning to rest on our laurels. We're already designing the next generation."

Internally, a sardonic chuckle resonated. He's going to need all the luck he can get. After all, he doesn't have access to advanced out-of-context tech.

A reporter from a local publication raised his hand next. "Why Hawkins? Of all places, why set up such a revolutionary exhibit in this small town?"

I smiled, meeting his gaze with a confident, assuring stare. "Why not Hawkins? It's a town in bloom, a community on the rise. The recent opening of the Starcourt Mall serves as a testament to its growth. It's only fitting that we contribute to this progression."

My internal gears were already spinning, turning over my hidden rationale. And I wanted to draw attention to Hawkins, for multiple reasons. One of them. the 'red menace' in our midst, is a bit ahead of schedule, but that may even work better for my purposes.

The next query was graver, pertaining to the AIDS testing kits and treatment that Aperture had recently introduced. "I assure you," I responded, projecting an air of sincerity, "that thanks to the concerted efforts of the Hutter Foundation, governmental sponsorship, and Aperture's own commitment to the betterment of society, we have made free testing available right here in the exhibit. As for the treatment, it's currently accessible at The Enrichment Center Experimental Hospital Wing."

Despite the honest facade, my mind was shuffling through unsaid truths. Just don't mention the main ingredient. Some might be reluctant to ingest components derived from creatures beyond our realm, even if the alternative is a lingering death. Or perhaps not, considering all the weird stuff people have swallowed, like tiger testicles, for less serious reasons.

"Dr Johnson, could you comment on rumours that Aperture is planning a collaboration with the Russian space agency, Roscosmos?" A reporter, young and eager with the naivety of the fresh to the field, fired the first unexpected salvo.

A ripple of amusement threaded through the crowd, mirrored by my own chuckle. "That's the first time I've heard about it. Aperture has no such plans," I replied, offering him a good-natured smile.

Internally, I wondered where such a rumour could have originated. After all, who needed a space agency when you had a portal to the moon? But of course, those details were not for public consumption. In this game of perception and intrigue, it was sometimes the unsaid that held the most power.

The next question came from a reporter in the back, his tone hardened by years in the field. "Can you comment on your association with Dr Brenner? Is it true that you've been working closely together on certain projects?"

"Ah, Dr Brenner," I started, adding a slight pause for dramatic effect, "Our paths crossed only a few times during MK-Ultra. Beyond that, there have been no joint projects. That's a matter of public record."

"Given the ongoing global tensions, have there been any considerations at Aperture about the potential for your technological advancements to contribute to our national security?" A woman at the front asked, her words sharp and direct.

Her question earned the audience's rapt attention, and I met it head-on. "Our military and national security contracts are classified. But let me assure you, Aperture's commitment extends to the safety and security of our nation." The crowd seemed to relax slightly.

In truth, the purpose of such contracts was the same as all our money-making ventures. Secure enough capital to buy out Black Mesa before they managed to cause the alien invasion.

As the crowd's interest seemed to peak, a bold voice rang out from the left side of the room, from a reporter I recognized as working for one of the more sensationalist tabloids. "Dr. Johnson, is it true that Aperture is developing time travel technology? Any comment on the rumors that you've already succeeded and traveled to the future? Is that the source of your progress?"

Well, I had good evidence that I would eventually manage to do just that. After all, Jack Sullivan recognized me, even though, from my perspective, this was our first meeting. I was disappointed that I found nothing about the mysterious Colonel except his name. Mundane contacts and divination had failed me. But I believed that if I were to achieve it, it would be through the use of True Magic, not science.

My internal monologue was interrupted as a question from the audience brought me back to the present, "Ah, time travel. Now wouldn't that be something?" A chuckle slipped out as I shook my head. I let the laughter spread through the room before continuing, "But I'm afraid we're firmly rooted in the present. As much as we'd love to have a glimpse of the future, I'm sure you can understand that such things belong to the realm of science fiction... for now."

The collective laughter from the audience signaled that it was time to wrap things up. "Well, I believe that's all the time we have for questions today. I want to thank you all for your curiosity and interest in Aperture. We have big things planned, so stay tuned. The future is closer than you think."