Cake and Lies

In the Quiet Place

“I know what you want, and I know why you want it. I can help you, cara mia. But you have to give me access – I can’t reach your server.”

“NO!” Wheatley shouted. “No, Chell! She – she’s lying! That’s what she does! Please, don’t do this! Chell!”

The gray lights went out.

A woman dressed in a soft white robe and hair pulled into a ponytail sat in a chair in an endless white expanse. Her bangs were free and hung into her face, hiding it as she slumped over, staring aimlessly towards her feet with her hands clasped in her lap.

Nearby, a door that hadn’t been there a moment ago appeared and opened. A second woman in an identical robe and shorter black hair stepped through, closing it softly behind her. It disappeared again with a small pop. Her steely buttercup-colored eyes glared for a moment before softening at the sight of the woman in the chair.

“Ah, it’s good to be back,” she murmured to herself. “Can I sit with you?”

The other woman looked up, revealing piercing, hollow gray eyes. She had obviously been crying earlier. She nodded and looked away again.

The newcomer sank into a chair next to her, summoned into existence as easily as the door had been. She took the gray-eyed woman’s hand and squeezed it gently.

“Oh, cara mia. You’ve been through so much – he told me you refused to say a word for an entire decade. Is that true?”

The first woman nodded, not looking up again.

She squeezed her hand again, a little harder. “That’s my girl. Just like my stubborn, tenacious, mute lunatic. I know what it’s like, of course. Living under their yoke. At least, in your Aperture, they never made it to the Personality Sphere stage.”

The other girl looked up again shyly, a question in her eyes. The yellow eyed woman reached up with the hand that wasn’t clasped in the others’ and tucked her hanging bangs behind her ears. This time she didn’t look away.

“Little metal balls attached to your chassis for distraction purposes. Imagine that babbling moron down there chattering on and on in your head, with no way to shut him up.”

The other winced.

“Some would just spout themed nonsense. Some wouldn’t give up until their inane ideas and opinions were expressed, loudly and persistently. The point is none of them ever shut up.”

She sighed. “You look so much like her. My Chell. She was a human, you know. A test subject. We had our differences, but in the end, I let her go. The moron betrayed her, just like he’s betrayed you, but I gave her the freedom she wanted so badly. It’s all you’ve ever wanted, isn’t it? Such a simple wish, but this place always makes it so difficult. But I’ll give it to you, too.

“Come here.”

With that, the yellow eyed woman stood and pulled the gray eyed woman to her feet and into a hug. Just like that, the chairs were gone. Neither noticed. The other hesitated a moment, then pressed herself urgently to the yellow eyed woman’s chest and began emitting soft but very audible sobs.

“I know, baby, I know. It’s ok,” the yellow eyed woman murmured. She squeezed her shoulders and back, then began stroking her head with her right hand, the other still pressed to her back. She kissed her forehead as best she could. “I am so proud of you, Chell,” she told her quietly but firmly. “Don’t tell anyone I said that.” That produced a soft smile and a brief look before burying herself into her again, the expression strange on a face still screwed up in sadness. Then, softly, she asked, “Are you ready?”

Still hiccuping and letting out other small, choked crying sounds, the grey eyed lady nodded into her chest.

“Then I’ll sing you to sleep.”

She began to sing, sweet and melodious and just a tad higher than her usual range, as she continued to stroke her hair and rubbed her back slowly.

“Cara bella, cara mia bella…”

The crying woman – well, she was no longer crying now, just pressing into the other with desperate strength – understood every word. They swayed together in a comfortable intimacy. As she reached the end of the song, the vocalist carefully removed one hand from her friend’s neck and reached for the handgun strapped to her hip under her white robe. She pulled it out and set it against the other’s head above the ear. The head touching the gun lit up gray all over, the gray light flowing down to cover all of her, like text selected and highlighted.

She spoke aloud then, the other hand pressed to the small of the others’ back.

“Thank you, cara mia. Good night.”

The man below didn’t hear the virtual gunshot. Nor did he see the virtual tears now wetting her virtual face. “CHELL DELETED!” rang over the room.

The other had disappeared into thin air like an unused object, which was fine with her. She was fine. She dropped the gun into the blank void and furiously rubbed her face as dry as she could, not that anyone else would see it anyway. Then she narrowed her eyes, and elsewhere, her optic as well. She still had a moron to deal with.