Interlude Owens

"Scenario: Bank Heist – Start!"

It was a scene straight out of a comic book, not that Owens had much experience with those, except as recent research. The test chamber had been transformed into a bank, with Aperture employees scattered about, mimicking customers, bank staff, and a lone security guard.

They had replaced their futuristic jumpsuit with normal everyday clothes, one that could be found in any town in America. "Futuristic" was a term liberally applied by Aperture's marketing department when describing their standard attire. Owens harboured reservations about this. The short-sleeved jumpsuits, hailed as the pinnacle of future fashion by Aperture standards, seemed unlikely to catch on beyond these walls. Even with their high-tech embellishments, they struck him as a peculiar choice—a blend of practicality and a peculiar vision of futurism that only Aperture could champion.

This sartorial choice seemed to Owens a clear sign of how far the scientists had strayed from conventional norms. It was as if being sidelined and mocked by the broader scientific community had led them to embrace their eccentricities rather than conform. Their attire was no longer just about utility; it was a statement, a form of rebellion against the traditional scientific establishment. Owens was not jealous. He liked being dignified. It made people listen to him.

But even in their silliness, the uniforms served the same purpose as they had through the ages. Beyond the surface, their true utility lay not in fashion but in function. They made differentiating outsiders from insiders an effortless task, a visual shorthand for allegiance and belonging. More subtly, they enforced the local culture, a silent decree that here, in the labyrinthine corridors of Aperture Science, the usual rules did not apply.

This visual distinction went beyond mere identification; it was a subtle enforcement of Aperture's unique culture. Here, in this world where the improbable was routine, and the impossible merely a challenge to be overcome, the uniforms were a constant reminder of the collective ethos. They symbolized a departure from conventional norms, a badge of pride in the pursuit of knowledge that pushed the very limits of human understanding and ethics.

Yet, the choice of such distinctive attire also served a more insidious purpose. It created a barrier, a clear demarcation between 'us' and 'them'. Within these walls, the uniform was a unifier, imbuing its wearers with a sense of belonging to something greater than themselves. To the outside world, however, it was a declaration of otherness, perhaps even a warning. It spoke of a community that operated by its own rules, driven by ambitions that could seem incomprehensible, if not downright alarming, to the uninitiated.

Owens watched the Aperture employees move through the mock bank, their actions orchestrated yet genuine, their attire seemingly normal. The were groups chatting, women, yelling at tellers, asking to see the manager.

They looked so normal; one could not guess that all wearing silly just minutes ago. It reminded Owens a bit of similar CIA training sites, where agents prepared to infiltrate foreign countries.

This was uncomfortable though. The Enrichment Centre may be buried in a salt mine, but it was still in America.

Owens reminded himself, once again, not to underestimate Aperture Science. They may appear weird, and silly, but they were brilliant, ruthless and deceptive.

"Everyone down, this is a heist!" one of the participants in the experiment suddenly shouted, brandishing a semi-automatic. The pretend robber had even donned a mask. Owen was mildly impressed; he had been watching the whole time and hadn't noticed the moment of disguise.

Several other faux robbers revealed themselves, drawing guns and slipping on masks with military precision—a detail that hardly surprised Owen. They likely served in Aperture Science's security forces during their downtime, a department known for recruiting heavily from former military ranks.

An idle thought intruded on Owen as he watched: Aperture had inadvertently assembled an impressive bank heist team. If they had desired, no bank would be safe. But he dismissed the thought almost immediately. "Crime does not pay" was propaganda, not fact; however, crime was only pursued if there was profit to be made, especially in organized endeavours. And this venture was far from profitable. Aperture had invested more into this training simulation than could be feasibly recouped through robbery. Not all of this was preparation for the main act.

The shattering of the door into the simulated bank heralded her arrival. At first glance, she might have seemed ridiculous—a grown woman clad in a tight-fitting outfit reminiscent of a comic book superhero, adorned in primary colors. Her head was covered by a stylish helmet, from which long hair flowed, each strand catching the light to accentuate well-sculpted muscles. And there she was, striking a pose as her cape billowed dramatically in the artificially generated wind. This was Aperture Science's creation—a manifestation of a man-made superhero.

Yet, to Owens' surprise, she was far from ridiculous. She was awe-inspiring. Owens could feel his heart pounding, his attention completely captivated. She was like something out of a legend, something larger than life.

At the core of her attire was a high-tech breastplate adorned with an array of blinking lights, not mere decoration but a sophisticated psychic device. Owen, privy to the briefing on her costume, understood its significance. The muscles that defined her silhouette were pockets of a non-Newtonian fluid, doubling as armor against projectiles. Her hair, a synthetic marvel, flowed like a natural cascade, adding to her otherworldly aura. Sleek high-tech bracers encircled her wrists, brimming with capabilities unseen but easily imagined. The ensemble was completed by sturdy Aperture long fall boots, allowing her to move with a grace that defied gravity.

Intellectually, Owens knew the effect was artificial, a blend of practical psychology and machine-assisted psychic powers. But under the spell of the spectacle, even from the safety of the observation booth, it was hard to maintain that analytical distance. Still, he managed. Even the most ridiculed concepts served a purpose within Aperture.

Confronting real robbers in such a manner, especially with civilians around, would usually be deemed reckless. There was a reason law enforcement didn't simply charge into scenarios like these. But here, under the effect of induced awe, it didn't matter.

Like Owens, the pretend robbers had completely forgotten about their roles, about the pretend civilians. They were all trapped in the awe-inspiring sight before her.

This demonstration was Aperture's bold pitch to the government—a pilot program proposing the idea of a joint superhero squad. Owens understood the significance; this was more than a mere show of technological prowess. It was a vision of the future, where science and heroism intersected to create a new paradigm of protection and defence. As she stood poised in the simulated bank, the embodiment of Aperture's ambition, Owens couldn't help but be impressed. Despite his initial scepticism, the fusion of high-tech wizardry and the theatrical presentation before him underscored Aperture's unparalleled ingenuity. They weren't just proposing a superhero squad; they were redefining what it meant to be a hero in the modern world.

Suddenly, she sprang into action.

It was a movement so swift, Owens nearly missed it in the blink of an eye. With an imperious gesture of her left hand, a brilliant surge of light cascaded over her bracers. In response, the guns were wrenched from the grasp of the pretend robbers, as if pulled by an unseen magnetic force, and sailed through the air to cluster around her.

Having disarmed them, she didn't pause to savour the moment. Instead, she launched forward, her movements a blur of speed and grace that defied human capabilities. She moved with a fluidity and precision that seemed to belong more to the realm of fantasy than reality.

The pretend robbers, though not lacking in skill, found themselves outmatched. Their techniques were predominantly military standard, a foundation augmented for some by martial arts training that Owens recognized with a trained eye. Their stances were disciplined, their movements calculated, bearing the mark of extensive training.

In stark contrast, her approach to combat was deceptively simplistic, reminiscent of someone with only basic self-defence training. Yet, it was clear that her mastery lay not in the complexity of her moves but in their execution. Each motion was precise, calculated for maximum impact with minimal effort.

The robbers attempted to counter, to find an opening, but they were hopelessly outpaced. It wasn't merely her speed that overwhelmed them; her reaction time was superhuman. Before a robber could fully execute a strike, she was already countering, her movements a step ahead, predicting and neutralizing their efforts with an ease that bordered on the uncanny.

Her strength was another factor that turned the tide irrevocably in her favour. Blows that would have subdued any normal adversary seemed to bounce off her, leaving her unfazed. In return, her strikes, even those that appeared light or hastily thrown, had a devastating effect, knocking her opponents off their feet with the force behind them.

"Impressive, isn't it?" The even voice of the Aperture representative was like a bucket of cold water, abruptly pulling Owens back from his awe of the display. Though the words carried a hint of emotion, their tone remained flat, devoid of genuine feeling.

Owens turned away from the spectacle to face Dr Jane Smith, the lead of this groundbreaking project. She was an older woman, senior to him, her hair tightly bound in a severe bun. Adorned in Aperture's signature jumpsuit, layered with a white lab coat, she epitomized the quintessential Aperture scientist. Yet, there was an undercurrent about her, a certain quality that sent a shiver down Owens' spine, and he knew Martin Brenner before... A thought he preferred to avoid.

"She doesn't know how to fight," Owens stated, redirecting the focus from the demonstration. It was crucial, as a potential buyer, to appear discerning and not overly impressed, even if internally he was.

"We've emphasized her training primarily on the utilization of psychic amplifiers," Dr Smith explained, her voice as devoid of emotion as ever. "Significantly, she was instrumental in their development."

"Psychic amplifiers," Owens mused, recognizing the innovative angle. "An intriguing approach, albeit an expensive one. Wouldn't it be more efficient to identify individuals with innate psychic talents?"

Dr Smith's response was measured, betraying no hint of defensiveness. "The rarity of individuals with substantial psychic abilities justifies the expense. Our research into the population distribution of psychic gifts has shown that truly powerful psychics are exceedingly rare. The amplifiers not only enhance modest abilities but also democratize psychic capabilities, making them accessible to a wider range of operatives."

"Yet, the practicality of deploying such technology on a large scale seems ambitious," Owens pointed out, scepticism lacing his tone. "The distribution of psychic gifts you mention—how reliably can we predict or control that, especially on the scale you're proposing?"

"The landscape of psychic abilities is indeed varied and complex," Dr Smith acknowledged, "but it's precisely this variability that our program aims to address. By standardizing the enhancement of psychic abilities, we can create a more predictable and powerful force. Think of it not just as amplification but as a form of equalization across the board."

"You've suggested seeking candidates among graduates of West Point and Quantico?" Owens inquired, his tone indicating a mix of curiosity and scepticism.

"Yes, that was part of our initial strategy," Dr Smith confirmed. "Given our projections, we anticipate that the initial bottleneck in the pilot program will be equipment availability rather than candidate selection. Thus, individuals who are highly motivated and already possess skills in leadership, crime-fighting, and combat would be preferable."

"Unlike her?" Owens gestured subtly towards the area where Ms. Evans had demonstrated her capabilities.

"Ms. Evans is a woman of strong convictions," Dr Smith acknowledged. "Sometimes, those convictions can lead to inconveniences, but generally, they do not. We were fortunate with her. However, it could become problematic if someone with antisocial tendencies and potential for misuse got their hands on this equipment. After all, our goal is to create superheroes, not supervillains. We don't need that kind of competition." She paused for a brief moment before adding, "That was a joke."

The remark, delivered in Dr Smith's characteristic flat tone, did not sound humorous at all.

"The testing for psychic potential is quite expensive," Owens noted. He was aware that the only truly reliable tests could be conducted in the Enrichment Centre. Such mass screening of candidates would likely net Aperture a significant profit from this venture. "But at least it puts an end to the calls for mass compulsory testing."

"That was an unfortunate reality," Dr. Smith conceded.

"I thought it quite fortunate, actually. No need to rehash the plot of X-Men in real life."

"My concerns were less about discrimination and more about the potential psychics left untrained. Statistically, it's most likely to end in suicide or commitment to a mental care facility, but there are more worrisome possibilities."

"Carrie is a book, not real life," Owens interjected lightly.

"My worry was directed more towards strong empaths than telekinetics. While the latter offers a suitably dramatic scenario, a depressed empath could inadvertently harm an entire town without ever realizing it, especially if caught in a feedback loop."

Owens shuddered at the thought of such an incident, not just for the tragedy of it but also for the potential consequences. The events in Hawkins had thrust psychics into the public sphere, sparking panic among some very powerful individuals, not to mention the fear permeating among ordinary people. The last thing needed was a modern resurgence of witch hunts. The McCarthy era had been sufficient for this century.

This was precisely why the project held such importance. It wasn't just about directly saving lives; it was also a propaganda piece designed to prevent America from descending into darker futures.

The leadership at Aperture Science was acutely aware of this. Their accommodating nature stemmed not just from a sincere desire for the project's success but also from an eagerness to profit as much as possible.

But that was capitalism for you. If Owens found fault with that, he might as well have defected to the Russians.

"This will be sufficient for now. I'll report back to the rest of the committee, and you'll hear from us soon," Owens stated. Although he wasn't completely certain, based on what he had witnessed, he believed the project would likely receive the green light, especially with his endorsement. "I would be interested in meeting with the designer of the amplification devices if possible."

"Unfortunately, that won't be possible. Dr Johnson is in Washington for the opening of the first—well, second, if you count the prototype in Hawkins—Aperture Anomaly Monitoring Station."