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“I do not at all believe in human freedom in the philosophical sense. Everybody acts not only under external compulsion but also in accordance with inner necessity. Schopenhauer’s saying, “A man can do what he wants, but not want what he wants,” has been a very real inspiration to me since my youth; it has been a continual consolation in the face of life’s hardships, my own and others’, and an unfailing well-spring of tolerance. This realization mercifully mitigates the easily paralyzing sense of responsibility and prevents us from taking ourselves and other people all too seriously; it is conducive to a view of life which, in particular, gives humor it's due” (Einstein: The World As I See It)
***
Silence was tainted by the buzzing of too-bright fluorescents, making the environment look all the more sterile and unforgiving. After a whole day of listening to that high-pitched droning, it was hard not to let it blend in with the rest of the background noise. Conversation in the hallway, keys, bags, shoes, scientists leaving their posts after a long day of work. Even in the small room—that Gordon would hardly consider an office—the noise seemed deafening, especially when it was quiet. Because it was never truly quiet. It was all chatter and artificial noise.
It led to being exhausted more frequently—dreading interactions with his fellow scientists because he knew they were looking down on him. “Black Mesa is the best of the best. The standards here are higher,” His employer had said , “can you handle that Dr. Freeman?” Of course he could, at least he thought that before he knew he wouldn’t be able to prove himself before the age of 60. For now—since he was newer, younger—he handled samples. His education was rotting away in the closet while he was pinned to grunt work.
Gordon sought refuge in the break room–even if it was only a slight step up from his ‘office’ —huddled into the corner with a book, usually reading something he hoped would be seen as intelligent .
This became a routine. It was a way to decompress and prepare his tired mind for a long drive back home—and was especially needed on the days he took the company-sanctioned transportation. His signal to leave would be when a younger-looking security guard poked his head in and called out “Anyone in there?” .
After the first few times, the sound of the door opening had conditioned Gordon to bookmark his page and pack up quickly. Quick enough to have a short conversation with his coworker—who seemed about his age, but not as new. Gordon assumed being security for Black Mesa had fewer requirements, education-wise. This exchange slowly integrated into his routine. It was nice to be greeted with a friendly face that felt like an equal. To be greeted with a “Have a good night, Dr. Freeman” or “Drive safe, Dr. Freeman” .
Months into his new job at Black Mesa, this interaction was second nature by now. It was no longer a fumbling, awkward dance. Gordon would’ve considered Barney—as it turned out this security guard was named—a ‘friend’. Because you worried about friends if they weren’t on time, and missed them if they were sick.
The scientist sat in the same chair he’d been in every day from three-thirty to five - thirty, excluding sick days, holidays, and weekends. A torn-up copy of Einstein’s The World As I See It found its home in his hands. It was a copy he’d had for longer than he’d like to admit. It was annotated and worn from years of innate interest and captivation at the wonders of such a renowned scientist’s mind.
“Dr. Freeman, are you in here?” A familiar voice spoke out. Right on time as always.
“Sometimes I wonder if you stand outside till your watch switches to five-thirty, Mr. Calhoun,” Gordon smiled to himself, already following regimented movements. Bookmarking his spot, pulling his bag up from the floor, safely storing his book inside of it, and finally grabbing his Tervis from the table. Perfectly on his feet and ready to go once Calhoun had found himself inside of the break room.
“Well, I could say the same for you!” A laugh, easy-going, and friendly. “You mean to tell me you don’t stare at the clock and wait for me?”
Gordon shrugged his shoulders, “Would it make you feel better if I said I did?”
“I wouldn’t believe you if you said no,” Calhoun beamed and jerked his head back, motioning for Freeman to follow. “Get out of here so I can lock up, then I’ll send you off on the tram.”
The buzzing of the fluorescents finally ceased as the light switch flicked down. It was quiet for once. The only noise he could hear was Barney’s voice—which was much easier to pallet than a clumsy symphony of annoyances.
The hallways of Black Mesa were effectively empty at this point. Only occupied by Security making their rounds—like Barney—or janitors mopping the pristine floors. At least the work Gordon was stuck with didn’t involve mopping the floors and cleaning the bathrooms. He’d even take an important post like Calhoun. Though he wasn’t sure if he’d do a fantastic job. Barney always had something good and witty to say when he saw him in the mornings, on the way to his office from the tram. Being good with people was probably a requirement.
“Right, well. You’ve been reading that book for ages. Seems like you’re waiting for me to ask about it,” Barney pulled the key from the break room door, giving it a shove to ensure that it latched.
“Because you’d be interested?” Gordon’s mouth cracked into a slight smile.
“You’re trying to impress someone. I can’t imagine it’s entertaining.” Barney walked beside the scientist, maintaining his playful composure. With a scoff, Gordon deflected the almost accusation.
"Impress someone? Right, Mr. Calhoun.”
"I’m just saying, Dr. Freeman, I know you new-types. You’re upset because no one will recognize how much potential you have and give you a chance. So you dress smart and act smart, and read smart things.”
His smile grew. Letting his guard down in front of Barney seemed to come quicker each day. “Professor, I taught..”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Professor. You taught for, what, a Semester?”
“More than that! A year at least.”
Barney smiled back. A smile that almost looked like he was baring his teeth, yet it still came off as friendly. It was almost dog-like. “Impressive. Let me guess, you graduated early too? Got into a nice, expensive program and got a full-ride scholarship? You’re way above average— Maybe that’s why you’re graying at twenty-seven.”
This time Freeman laughed. A noise he hadn’t heard himself in a long time. “You’ve got me down to a tee, Mr. Calhoun.”
“I should’ve known you were just like everyone else,” Barney hummed as he walked ahead, typing in some combination and scanning his ID to open the doors to the tram platform. “I almost feel betrayed,” Barney said, jokingly—or at least Gordon assumed they were joking, he didn’t seem truly angry... For now, they were joking.
Freeman rolled his eyes. “Yep. Just using you to get ahead, why else would I wait for you every day?”
“That’s easy. The rest of the scientists are all dicks—I think Dr. Coomer is about senile... He’s in your sector—but you enjoy my company,” Still, he smiled. “I make you laugh. I ensure you safely exit the building, how about that?”
The tunnel that housed the tram rail was dimly light, though Calhoun seemed to glow warmly. Gordon could see his smile and his bright heterochromatic eyes. The beginnings of wrinkles creased around his eyes and mouth, giving the impression that he was a happy person who smiled often. And—as far as Gordon knew—he was.
“Sure,” Gordon glanced down to the floor and shook his head, chuckling. “You are good company, Mr. Calhoun.”
“Barney.” He interjected quickly—though his words were quiet.
“Pardon?”
“I was correcting you. I don’t want you to call me Mr. Calhoun, it feels too professional. I mean like— Like we’re just coworkers.”
Gordon gave Calhoun an incredulous look, like he’d just revealed some great secret. “Are we not?”
“Okay, well,” Barney nervously continued, “There’s a difference between coworkers and just coworkers. I’d consider you a friend.”
So he was right. They were friends. “I’d... Also consider you a friend,” Gordon paused, his awkward smile returning, “Barney.”
It looked like a weight had been lifted from the security guard’s shoulders. He was almost standing taller. “I would hope so. I mean I’ve been carving time out of my day just for you for the past few months, Gordon.”
Freeman had never liked his name. It never felt right, Much too outdated or snobbish. For others, he preferred being called on by his last name. But from Calhoun, it felt like the one time it suited him.
“Last tram is almost here,” Barney said absently. “So do you... Live close to the city?”
“Close enough. About five minutes from downtown. Why?”
“I just uh.. There’s a coffee place I like. I stop by it most mornings if I have time, they aren’t super busy during the weekend... Would you wanna go out for coffee sometime? Like Saturday morning?”
Gordon paused, considering the offer. Often at his place of work, he tried his hardest to keep personal affairs outside of buisness. But it was much harder to do and not be lonely when all of his old friends either had families to take care of or lived hours away.
“Unless you’re sick of seeing my face by the time the weekend rolls around,” Again, Calhoun returned to a playful tone. Like the safest option was to take everything lightly.
Finally, Gordon gave a half nod. “Sure. I’d be up for it.”
With a wider smile, Barney almost finished Gordon’s nod. His hands had been clasped together behind him. For a moment, if he looked hard enough, Freeman could see the Security guard fidgeting nervously. Was it that anxiety-inducing to ask a friend to hang out ? “Cool. I’ll figure out the rest of the details and get back to you... Same time tomorrow. Have a good night, Gordon.”
The screeching halt of the tram on the rails made Gordon flinch slightly as Barney turned to walk back inside—locking up the door he’d entered through. Once again, loud and disorderly silence filled his ears. The buzzing of the electronics that the tram used to operate, muffled announcements coming from the speakers. “Sector C Tram : Six o’clock. Last ride to the surface” .