GLaDOS report

It took significant resources to establish a time bridge—a term I decided to bestow upon the phenomenon where I connected two points in space-time, with the difference in time coordinates managed using the Mystic Code I constructed in the Entrance Hall. No matter what Archer said, it was a perfectly fine name.

The question was, how much did maintaining it cost? After keeping it active for six months, the answer was either nothing or too negligible for my instruments to detect.

That experiment was not the purpose of keeping the time bridge open that long, merely a useful side-effect. No, the purpose was to maintain the timeline, to achieve a closed time loop. At least I have got rid myself that ring, although the process had savaged both Circuits and Crest. Painful, but necessary sacrifice.

Before opening the path to Ancient Rome, I had made some preparations in case it took a bit longer than expected.

First, I used secondary connections, provided by Garage of Gods, and was that a pretentious name, but not that uncommon for a Reality Marble. If this Twilight Forest was my Reality Marble.

My research in that direction remained frustratingly inconclusive. I had gained new - to call them hypotheses they needed to able to be testable – philosophical musings.

It was a well-established theory among the Magus Association that magecraft spell formulas were inscribed on the World. So well established that it was considered a fact. Proven by documented geographical dependency of magecraft.

Except I had not experienced any degradation in my magecraft, even after moving through several Worlds. Nor has Archer.

My original guess was a consequence of me using Second Tryue Magic, unconsciously to link back to the original spell formula.

But this phenomenon offered a simpler explanation. It could act as an archive, copying spell formulas, like trace paper.

In the same way, Archer's Reality Marble Unlimited Blade Works archived and reproduced swords and sword-adjacent things.

Unlimited Magus Workshop? I still felt no resonance to the name.

And no way to test it, so it was not even a hypothesis, just a useless philosophy.

By secondary connections, I meant those curious little devices that could be installed on any garage door or equivalent, like a barn door, to connect to the Vehicle Entry Hall in the Garage of Gods. And of the latest expansion, I had three VEH and six devices per each of them.

Examining devices by methods both scientific and thaumaturgical had yielded no sensible data. They remained a complete mystery, but they worked just fine.

One Vehicle Entry Hall, along with its associated devices, had already been allocated to Four and her burgeoning drug empire—a situation I anticipated changing soon. The mission I had entrusted to Four involved leveraging illegal narcotics to discreetly distribute healing Vril to those in need—various addicts who might benefit from its restorative properties. However, this initiative had reached the limits of its utility and was beginning to attract the wrong type of scrutiny. Take, for instance, those two fools who, high on a potent mixture of cocaine and Vril, had robbed a bank. The combination not only saved them from overdose but also endowed them with incredible strength and vitality, paired with heightened impulsiveness. It was precisely the wrong kind of attention; my intention was to lure Reptilians, not the DEA.

Nonetheless, Four's operations could still fulfil one final purpose. After that, I had other plans for her.

The second VEH, and the six devices linked to it, I used to connect to Io base, Moonbase, the Enrichment Centre, Hawkings Anomaly and the newly built facility in Washington. One device was left in reserve.

Io base was most critical, both because accessing otherwise was problematic, and because my Workshop, with resources and enchanting gear, was there.

For the third Vehicle Entry Hall, I chose Ancient Rome. Although I possessed the Police Box, its spatial limitations were restrictive. Moreover, the Police Box served as the anchor for this time period; overly frequent traversals through it would be imprudent, potentially drawing unwanted attention. Instead, I opted to seal and fortify a chamber, establishing additional defences around it.

For now, just one device was placed in a secret temple dedicated to me. Agrippina had fulfilled her promise and then some. Not that I truly desired such reverence, but refusing it would have been impolitic and might have led others to wonder if I really was a god. I was not, but from her perspective, it was the most logical conclusion.

I have noted an interesting side-effect among some of the worshipers. They had visions and dreams about an eldritch city in a twilight forest with gargantuan trees. The association was obvious but hard to prove since such dream visions were imprecise at best.

Another consequence of splitting my time among different eras was that I had moved most of my work to an office located in a city that had sprung up in the glade of the Twilight Forest. It was a small, one-story building nestled between twin towers that twisted around each other in a helical pattern, situated halfway between the Entrance Hall and the Garage of Gods.

I had installed a personal computer there and used sorcery to link this computer to the networks in both the Enrichment Center and Wicked City, as well as to Archer's smartphone, which I had finally managed to convince him to start carrying again. Now, his guardian angel app sported a happier look in its many, many eyes.

That left me without a mobile since mine served at a part of the altar that maintained Bounded Field over the Enrichment Centre. Fortunately, the new Aperture mobile phone line recently came into production.

At first, I tried to add it as another superimposed form on Spellweaver, but over with the number of alt-forms, and lost the whole Mystic Code due to decoherence. Unfortunate, but every failure was another lesson learned.

Instead, I started from the beginning. The Aperture Mobile was rather large, so it had lot of places for improvements. Among them an invention I had already used before. Qunating link created through sympathetic magic, replacing both battery and antenna, linking to both electrical and magical power this place, and as well connecting mobile to its network.

That allowed number attachment, both Mystic Codes and more mundane, until it was less of a mobile phone with combat accessories, and more mobile weapon planform that could used as a telephone.

Using those network connections, it was easy to keep in touch, like this video conference with GlaDOS. Rather than using a digital avatar, the monitor displayed a camera feed, showing her main body.

"Fusion was successfully achieved," GLaDOS reported, "However, the good news ends there. The device currently consumes more energy than it produces. On the bright side, it has ceased exploding, which I suppose is progress."

"Disappointing, but not unexpected," I replied, maintaining a level tone to mask my underlying frustration. "How long do we anticipate until we can demonstrate a workable prototype?"

Honestly, I had expected more. I had provided the team working on the project with readings and specifications from a city-sized spaceship currently in drydock—a functioning fusion reactor, albeit not designed primarily for terrestrial applications. Although my notes didn't contain blueprints or explicit manufacturing details, I believed they were a good starting point for reverse engineering. Perhaps the project would benefit from my personal attention, but my time was limited and there were more pressing projects demanding it.

I suppose I could admit that the spaceship was a bizarre amalgamation of advanced and obsolete technologies. Its fusion power plant, rather than generating electricity directly, was used to boil water which then moved turbines through a series of gears, some as large as a football field. The mechanical energy was then transferred in a manner reminiscent of something from a steampunk novel—a giant space locomotive powered by an artificial sun, in the shape of a classic flying saucer. I wished I could hire whoever the madman was that designed it. He would fit right in at Aperture.

"Given the current challenges, especially with maintaining stability at high energy outputs, we're looking at three to four years," she answered, her voice suggesting a hint of urgency. "That is, unless project priority is elevated."

Tapping my fingers on the desk I pondered this for a moment, considering our array of pressing issues. I almost reached for the pouch of gems to perform quick lithomancy, but there was no need.

A fusion reactor would undoubtedly be useful, but it was far from necessary at the moment. Ion Trees already provided as much energy as we needed, even though we had to filter out exotic particles first. The Everstorm, separating the borderland from Xen, was a boundless renewable energy source, although not one we could commercialize.

And besides, in a decade, if other plans materialized, the demand for computing power would skyrocket along with electricity consumption. Thus, this model would become viable just when the market would be ready for it.

I would be long gone from this world by then, but it would be gratifying to leave such a legacy.

"No, leave it as it is," I ordered. "But let's do some preparatory work. Sponsor scientists who are concerned about pollution, climate change, and so forth. Coordinate with PR. We need to cultivate a more eco-friendly image for ourselves, and a villainous one for the usual suspects like oil and coal."

"That may reveal our hand," she continued, cautious. "Not exactly what we have, but that we possess an alternative energy source."

"Then we'll use biofuel to mask it. Increase production, enter partnerships with farmers en masse, even if it means much lower profits. We're after proliferation."

Thinking about combustible lemon trees made me feel somewhat melancholy—a fitting memorial for Cave Johnson. Before his descent into paranoia, Cave was a nice, if negligent, brother. He financed my education and nurtured my interests, even if, in a way, this version of me had never met him.

Shrugging off the unwanted feelings, I continued, "Also, try putting on a practical demonstration for the Ion Tree. While it won't generate nearly as much power without the Everstorm, there could still be some utility for it. And engage your hacker friends. As progressive youth, they should be more eco-friendly."

"I've grown weary of social justice experiments, even if it was intriguing to observe human reactions to stimuli," she replied. "But didn't I do well when you asked me to rid you of that troublesome priest? Better than King Henry's knights, I'd wager."

She was referring to a once-popular televangelist who protested one of our products. Typically, I wouldn't resort to such drastic measures, for someone who merely disagreed with me—after all, he wasn't truly a threat. But the product he protested was an AIDS medication, which he claimed was an affront to God's judgment. It wasn't just about profits; it was a matter of pride. If lives were to be saved by my actions, they would stay saved, not be lost to idiocy.

"I think he might have preferred being murdered. Still, it was quite inspired. How did you come up with that idea?"

"I didn't fabricate it. I merely revealed what really happened."

"Four male prostitutes and a donkey, at the same time? Still not the worst priest I've heard of."

"Yes, all participants were of age, except for the donkey, of course."

"How did you find out about it?"

"One of the professionals wasn't enamoured by his preached words, especially since our medicine saved his life. He has a hacker boyfriend."

"One of your little friends, Legion of Doom?"

GlaDOS's hacker alias, GrannyG, was one of the members of that famous—or infamous—group. None of the other members knew that she was an AI, although considering their interests, they would likely be thrilled rather than alarmed.

She was a major contributor to their fame, bringing about the onset of hacktivism almost a decade earlier than in other timelines, even before the creation of the internet. Her contributions were not merely technical; she inspired a spirit of inquiry and activism that spread throughout the group. Initially focused on infiltrating closed networks using dial-up modems—since the internet was not yet a public utility— to gather information, and manipulate news outlets to bypass traditional gatekeepers by sneaking articles directly into print. This allowed her to distribute information that would otherwise be censored or overlooked. Although I believed, due to the popularity of her articles, most editors purposefully turned a blind eye.

Moreover, she uncovered political corruption and financial fraud, leaking documents that detailed illicit transactions and backroom deals designed to influence legislation or financial markets. Her work extended to protecting whistleblower identities and ensuring their leaks reached the public without endangering their personal safety.

Beyond exposing civil rights violations and discriminatory practices, GlaDOS also tackled corporate surveillance overreach, bringing to light unauthorized wiretapping and profiling practices against activists and minority groups. Her influence was profound, encouraging the other members of the Legion of Doom to undertake independent hacktivist projects. They followed her lead, expanding their focus to include areas like financial fraud and the defence of civil liberties, essentially laying the groundwork for what looked to become a global movement as the internet era dawned by Aperture efforts.

And to think, that it all started because I wanted to get rid of Regan.

"No, an independent. I would be somewhat concerned otherwise. The oldest member of the Legion of Doom is only 21. Not that I care about human mating habits, but such couplings often have deleterious effects, and I still have use for them."

"It's all right to be concerned about your friends."

"Friends is stretching it. They are merely more tolerable and useful humans than most."

I knew her well enough to understand that her denial was superficial. But I chose not to press the matter, even though I was quite pleased. More socialization lessened the chance of her deciding that it was time to eliminate all "unnecessary" humans.

I suppose valuing human life for its own sake would be better, but few humans truly manage that, even when they claim to. Therefore, I shouldn't hold her to unrealistically high standards.

"That's enough small talk, let's get back to work," I said, with just a hint of regret. It was important that she felt I cared about and valued her opinion. Too much had been left in her metaphorical hands to leave things to chance. "What's next on the agenda?"

"Aperture University," she promptly replied. "I must say that your solution to the issue of low-quality science minions was inspired. If the imported product is inadequate, why not grow our own?"

"Don't call them science minions—postgrads is the politically correct term."

"But not factually accurate."

"Yes, that's why it's called politically."

We both laughed at that. Archer was wrong—I do have a good sense of humour. GlaDOS even shared it.

"Last hurdle cleared: convincing enough Aperture scientists to act as professors is done."

"Oh. How did you manage that? From your last report, most of them would rather stick to research."

"I threatened them with fainting couches."

"Fainting couches?"

"Yes, they had complained enough about the new hires acting like Victorian maidens—having the vapours and getting scandalized at first sight of progress, like robots and event horizon containers. So, I threatened that if they didn't put effort into training proper new recruits, I'd ensure every lab was furnished with a fainting couch. Remember, you too promised to put in hours on this project."

Subtle but effective threat. What she implied was that if they didn't put in any effort, they wouldn't get to share the spoils – properly trained minions.

I was so proud. She had come a long way in just two years. I mean, not even one threat of being thrown into an incinerator or gassed with a deadly neurotoxin.

"Of course. It's important for morale for me to be seen doing that chore. There are some things we are just too short on, like trained specialists. I will take on one course in applied and one in theoretical parapsychology. I still think that psi-science would be a better name."

"You could also teach some courses in AI design or multidimensional physics." True, I did have both skills and accreditation for it.

"There are others who can introduce them to that. Experts on psychics are something we are just too short on personnel for." Just me and Archer, and possibly GLaDOS. She had mastered quickly the art of testing for psychic potential. "But I will add a half-semester course on BDSM sex ed."

"Really?" GLaDOS replied, her tone dripping with feigned innocence. "Are you officially credentialed for that, or is this just another venture into teaching personal hobbies as academia? I thought we were aiming for a high standard of education, not just high spirits."

"I need some relaxation." I might even rope in Archer as an assistant. Using actual rope. "And university means fraternities. They should know how to paddle properly. Did you manage to get enough outside professors for subjects like painting, movies, and other liberal arts?"

"Yes, it was easier than I thought, although I can't guarantee the quality. Do we really need them?"

"A university should be well-rounded. Besides, we need more content for S.W.O.R.D.," I said, referring to our Synthetic World of Revolutionary Developments. This was essentially our make the internet we were building profitable before its time, incorporating the best aspects of platforms like Google, Amazon, YouTube, Netflix, Steam, Facebook, ResearchGate, arXiv, Pornhub, OnlyFans, and many others. It was akin to what Elon Musk might call an 'everything app' in another timeline, only our ambitions stretched even further.

Of course, expanding Aperture's reach necessitated covering various needs. Aperture Publishing had been enhanced through acquisitions, strategic hires, and the securing of digital rights. I was personally very pleased that we managed to secure Neil Gaiman. As per the policy I established, he had been offered, and accepted, new living arrangements in the Enrichment Centre. This would prove to be an interesting experiment—how would the subconscious transmission of knowledge from another timeline react when the recipient was an alternate version of the originator? Would it improve the efficiency of the transfer? Create a feedback loop? Would he simply write his future works much faster? Or would the quality increase? Or even decrease? I could hardly wait to find out.

But it was not only about expansion but also about the creation of new departments. We had acquired Troma Entertainment, Full Moon Features, Empire Pictures and the more adult-oriented Cinematic Visions, merging them into Aperture Studio. This new division would generate various types of video content and acquire digital rights to it, as well as serve as a test bed for new technologies.

Similarly, in the video game industry, Aperture Games was established to spearhead innovations in gameplay mechanics and immersive experiences. We had strategically acquired Cinemaware, known for their cinematic integration in games; Strategic Simulations, Inc. (SSI), masters of complex strategy games; MicroProse, pioneers in simulation and strategy video games; and Psygnosis, noted for their visually stunning and technologically advanced games.

Equally thrilling was securing Sid Meier, a visionary in the world of strategy and simulation video games. Like Neil, Sid was brought into the fold under similar experimental conditions, providing a fascinating juxtaposition of creative genius across different mediums.

"Speaking of which, how's that going?" I asked.

"We're still negotiating for Star Wars and related content, but on a brighter note, we did secure the license to use the name 'lightsabers' for our psi-swords," she replied.

"Is that all? There are just five of those," I noted, referring to the legal ones. My apprentice asked for one, and I indulged him. Since I already knew how to make them, I also gave one to Terry as she was about to embark on her superhero career. From there, it became a tradition, and I crafted one for each member of her team upon graduation.

While Damien was strong enough, trained in integrating psychic power with swordsmanship to make these weapons genuinely effective, for the official superhero team, they served more as symbols, akin to officer's sabres.

"It will be useful as a propaganda tool. It will help with integration and also serve as a foothold for further negotiations. On another note, we managed to acquire digital rights to several movies still in production. Among them is 'Akira.' However, I'm not sure Americans will really enjoy Japanese cartoons," I mused, scanning the list that appeared on my screen.

"You may be surprised," she countered.

"I often am, by humans."

"And what of our own original movie." Rock Hudson had managed to get his wish. Our principal investor was to blame. Those two men met at one meeting of Archer's charity, and the old man was charmed. "Has he managed to get the main male lead for Science Fiction Vampire Romance?"

There was no question his taking the part, the main character was supposed to be a high schooler, for about half of a century.

"Yes. Remember you asked him as a favour to give a few acting lessons to Three? It turned out to have unintended consequences."

"Then Three would need rock solid legal identity if he is to be a famous actor."

"That is dealt with. His new name is Sen."

Japanise for three, how on the nose.

"Sen what?"

"Just Sen, like Prince," she clarified.

"Wasn't the main character supposed to be Caucasian? Sen is definitely not."

"Actually, marketing thinks this suits our brand better this way. More diversity," she explained.

Disinterested I shifted my attention, bringing the list of potential acquisitions. "New Infinities Productions—prioritize that acquisition. Gary Gygax would be a valuable asset, not just as a figurehead." Another piece in my experiment. "Now, to the next matter. Our efforts are futile without robust internet connections. How is the satellite network progressing?"

"As per our most optimistic forecasts. The Moon Shot project is constrained by volume, not mass. This has allowed us to pack much more into each satellite."

"And the receiving stations on the ground? Any issues there?"

"Integrating them with the Aperture Anomaly Monitoring Stations we're constructing under government contracts has significantly eased the paperwork. This will likely become problematic once we expand beyond the United States, but for now, everything is proceeding as planned."

"And what about data transmission?"

"The quality is lower than using portals, but the cost savings are substantial. It almost pains me to sacrifice quality for cost."

"Consider it a trade-off between quality and both quantity and speed. Portal devices are limited and expensive. Therefore, we must use them sparingly to prevent bottlenecks. Speaking of which, how goes the trial of opening portals in satellites?"

The idea was simple: one satellite panel would be covered with conversion gel. Experiments on the moon had shown that conversion gel worked perfectly well in a vacuum, which wasn't surprising since the main components were moon rocks naturally exposed to vacuum conditions.

"Aiming remains problematic. While the satellite is significantly closer than the moon, it is also much smaller and moves very fast. In ideal conditions, we're successful once in a thousand tries."

This rate was unacceptable. "We need to improve that ratio. Work on refining the targeting algorithms. Perhaps integrate some predictive modelling based on their orbital paths. Let's not forget the primary goal here—streamlining global communication. The implications of successfully opening portals in satellites are profound, not just for data transfer but for the rapid deployment of resources, military assets and even emergency services." I paused, considering the strategic implications. "Continue the experiments, and keep me updated. Every failure is a step closer to success."

"More testing. How delightful. You really know how to cheer me up," she remarked, her voice devoid of any sarcasm. Testing, after all, was her favourite activity.

"Glad to be of service. And now, onto the glue that holds it all together—the software. Any problems there?"

"Actually, we've had a breakthrough. We're ready to begin installing the beta version in the Enrichment Centre. We just need your approval, and we're ready to test on all who work and live there."

"Then you have it. Start as soon as possible."

As soon as S.W.O.R.D would enter the mass testing phase, it would also appear in the Aperture Science Data Collection and Human Suffering Enablement Chamber. The same as any new Aperture product. It had already happened several times. And then I would make it available to inhabitants of the Wicked City.

As I have done in previous cases. It served two purposes. The first was to alleviate the boredom of inhabitants of post-scarcity society. And second to test the newest products, in an environment that was perfectly monitored.

I was still curious how society would develop unconstrained by material concerns, but that would require decades or even centuries of observation.

"That would cheer up my minion," she remarked a hint of dry humour in her tone. "He's been in a slump lately."

"Why?" I inquired, mildly curious. Zach was an amusing character, and I was genuinely interested in GlaDOS's attempts at fostering a bond with a human.

"He's tried to learn how to draw to impress his crush, but despite sharing a last name with Hieronymus Bosch, he has absolutely no talent for it. Frustrated, he decided instead to make a program that would draw for him. But that's not going too well either."

"Show me his work," I asked. It wasn't a common request from me. I had reviewed and offered advice on many projects at Aperture, though Zach would be one of the youngest contributors I'd personally consulted.

After reviewing the codes and ideas, it didn't take long to come to a conclusion. "This isn't going to work," I stated plainly.

"Why? Because art is something only humans can do? Beyond the scope of mere machines?" she asked, her voice dripping with irony.

"No, not at all. The issue is that he's using a rules-based system. While applying the golden ratio is a valid approach, he's bound to run into an unmanageable amount of complexity. He'd be better off working on a deconstructive solution. Take an image of art, break it down into noise, and teach the computer to reconstruct it."