Chapter Text
"The right man in the wrong place can make all the difference." - the G-man, Half Life 2
February 7th, 1961
Upper Peninsula, MI
On the long and rickety ride down the elevator shaft into the depths of Aperture Science, Caroline whistled a song.
When the elevator dinged, the door slid open to the inside of an office structure. One of many that were built on the wall of the salt mine. The bulletproof windows revealed only a tiny portion of the mine’s vast core.
Caroline stepped into the hall, her boots leaving a gentle thud on the carpet. Before continuing, she adjusted the waist of her blue dress, fixed a stray strand of brown hair, and rolled her shoulders. There, now everything was flawless. Caroline sashayed to the end of the office, which was mostly empty aside from a wall of cabinets and a slouching security guard at the door.
The guard gave her a few lazy blinks as she approached. She flashed the ID badge that hung from a lanyard from her neck, although she didn’t need to. The guard knew who she was. Everyone did.
“Evenin’, Miss Caroline,” the security guard said in the middle of a wide yawn. He clicked the big red button that lifted up the yellow-and-black barrier gate, granting her access out the door.
“It’s not evening,” she corrected, not giving him the grace of eye contact. “It is 7:34am.”
“Oh, right.” The guard rubbed a hand over his face. His skin was practically gray with the lack of exposure to sunlight, and his eyelids were puffy with sleep deprivation. Common symptoms of working for Aperture Science. “Sorry, I can’t hardly tell the time down here.”
“Then get better at it. Wear a watch, at the very least,” Caroline said, crossing the door and onto one of the many catwalks that crossed the depths of Aperture Science Innovators.
In the wide cavernous space, Caroline saw the cabal of geometric testing spheres that hung from the walls like ornaments. She could already see scientists and test subjects moving in and out of the testing spheres, getting right to the day’s work. From high above in the mines, artificial light shone down on them all. It was like looking up at the sun from deep below the ocean.
The thirty-two-year-old woman inhaled the stale smell of recycled air, and smiled. Today was a beautiful day at Aperture Science. Just as the day before, and just as tomorrow would be.
Plip. Plop.
Right as she took her first step forward, she heard the sound of something dripping from above. Standing still a moment, Caroline watched as drops of dark fluid plummeted to the ground. She tilted her head up to the ghastly sight of a man’s corpse skewered on a metal pike, tacked up against the cave wall.
Caroline tilted her head and tried to get a better look at the man. He wore the standard orange jumpsuit of a test subject. She squinted to get a look at the number stitched to the breast of the jumpsuit - Test Subject #023809, recruited from the division of NASA astronaut candidates.
What a disappointment. Caroline was always under the impression that the astronaut test subjects were the most unflappable. If they could train for a trip to space, surely they could handle a few Aperture tests with heavy machinery and sharp objects?
Apparently not. At least beating NASA in testing difficulty was its own marker of success.
Caroline unclicked her pen and noted on her clipboard the number and the location of the body. Not only had some incompetent test subject failed his test, some incompetent scientist had lost track of their equipment.
Caroline continued her morning by going over the rounds – checking in on the progress of the day-shift tests and helping to troubleshoot anything. The scientists and test subjects greeted Caroline with the just-too-wide type of smile of someone who was deathly afraid of upsetting the woman. Precisely as they should.
Everything seemed to be going swimmingly with this week’s batch of tests. The tinted lenses injected in human eyeballs as a permanent substitute for sunglasses, the stasis chamber that could have a person sleep unchanged for decades, the taffy that completely deflected noise of any decibel. Soon it was almost 9am, and aside from the blight of that one dangling corpse, everything was going along splendidly. Caroline even had time to whip up some coffee for Mr. Johnson before their daily briefing.
Caroline booked it across the catwalk between the testing spheres, her boots clanking on the metal with each step. The brown work boots clashed against her plain blue dress, but she couldn’t go walking on the grated catwalks in heels. Besides, she liked how it announced to everyone that she was on her way.
As she approached the closest elevator shaft at the end of the walkway, a tall redheaded scientist joined her.
“Good morning, Miss Caroline,” he greeted with a smile. “On your way to the boss’s chamber?”
“Good morning, Dr. Mossman! Yes, I’m on my way up right now.”
The elevator opened and they stepped in. Caroline punched the key to Mr. Johnson’s office, located all the way back up at the very first floor. Dr. Mossman hit the button for a testing sphere on a higher level.
Caroline knew each employee and test subject at Aperture by name and department. While she had yet to be impressed by any new hires, she had high hopes for Dr. Jerry Mossman. He was young, ambitious, and not afraid to speak his mind. But of course, she would not permit herself to offer any evidence of such favor.
“Anything looking particularly promising today?” Dr. Mossman asked as they waited in the moving elevator.
“Well, I like to think that every test has the potential to become something interesting.” Caroline fiddled with her pen, tapping it against her clipboard. “But I’ve yet to see something that’s ready to be Aperture’s next big seller. Our next military-grade shower curtain, or sentient storage cube.”
Dr. Mossman nodded thoughtfully, then ran a hand through his ruddy-red hair. “If I may be so bold as to throw my hat in the ring…”
“So, your team has finally finished the Electromagnetic Remote Muscle Contractor?” Caroline asked. “In case you’d forgotten, Mr. Johnson wanted that tested and perfected yesterday . I just about thought your team’s directive had changed to become the biggest disappointment of 1961.”
Jerry didn’t flinch at her scathing criticism. Good. Though a bit joyless.
“I’m still just a research assistant to the project, and it’s not my area of expertise anyways - I’m a physicist through and through, my dream is to apply unified field theory to create a viable form of complete teleportation.” Dr. Mossman cleared his throat and tugged at his collar, afraid he had said too much. “But right now my team thinks we have a working prototype of our device.” As he explained, Dr. Mossman made large gestures with his arms to illustrate his project. “Just as Mr. Johnson wanted, we’ve created an electromagnetic emitter that can specifically target certain areas of the body’s muscles to contract in a precise, predetermined order.”
The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Dr. Mossman took one step out of the elevator, but kept his amber brown eyes looking hopefully at Caroline. She smiled politely and waited for the elevator door to close on him, so she could move on with her day.
Before it could slide shut, Dr. Mossman caught it, kept it open, and gave her a determined look. “Ma’am, I promise, you will not be disappointed by what happens when we show you our prototype.”
“Mr. Johnson and I will be the judge of that.” Caroline winked and said, “If you need any unused muscle tissue to test this out on, I do think I know where we can find a corpse.”
Caroline stepped into Mr. Johnson’s office, a mug of coffee in each hand. With her shoulder, she shoved the door open. She was greeted by the sight of Cave Johnson, founder and C.E.O. of Aperture Science Innovators, dancing a gallant ballroom dance with an imaginary partner. In the corner of his office, a record player poured classical music into the room.
“Caroline! Just in time,” Cave said, taking lunging steps towards her. “I need to practice.”
“Mr. Johnson, I have hot coffee in my hands.”
“Then set it down! The Michigan Innovators Awards ceremony is tomorrow, and I can’t risk looking like an idiot on the dance floor after I receive my trophy.” Cave spun himself around with the grace of a bear on a unicycle. “These formal functions are no joke, Caroline, a man who can dance is immediately well-respected. As stupid as that is. What am I, some kind of pansy, singin’ and dancin’ all day? No, I got a business to run!” He twirled around twice then came to a clumsy stop, his long arms flopping over to rest on his bent thighs. “If only those eggheads in the mines finished that electromagnetic muscle-controller beam when I wanted them to, then I could be a perfect dancer without even trying!”
“About that, I have some convenient news.” Caroline set down the coffee at his desk. She folded her hand over her mouth to hide her grin at seeing her employer’s stiff yet determined dance moves. “I just spoke with one Dr. Jerry Mossman, who says that the Electromagnetic Remote Muscle Contractor is ready for a demonstration.”
“Hot dog! Finally, those eggheads are good for something. Let’s go check it out.” Cave twisted his back from side to side in a stretch, then extended his arm out. “But first - in case that electricity thing doesn’t work out, I’m gonna have to dance it out the ol’ fashioned way.” For his next sentence, his voice climbed to an irritated and impatient pitch with each word. “And I can’t do that unless someone practices with me!”
“Alright, alright, I’ll be right there.”
Of all the things she expected to do for Aperture Science as Cave’s assistant, she never thought she would have to learn ballroom dancing. Seven years after working at Aperture, and Caroline still found something new to surprise her every week. She couldn't have been happier.
Caroline held her arms out, signaling she was ready. Cave swooped in and put one hand in hers, the other on her waist. He began to lead her in a waltz with steady one-two-three steps.
“Mr. Johnson, are you sure they will even want you to dance?” Caroline asked as Cave spun her. “It is a meeting for scientists, after all.”
“They always leave time for drinks and dancing at these stupid functions, Caroline. Olympic athletes have their victory laps. I want a victory dance. When we get that award, I want to rub it in everyone’s face that Cave Johnson is on top of the world!”
“Well, you’ve certainly improved,” Caroline said. Their feet continued marking triangles throughout the room. “You’ve reduced the number of times you’ve stepped on me by 26%.”
“Thank you, Caroline! Ready for that dip?”
Before she could confirm, Cave leaned and Caroline took her cue. He dipped her, paused for effect, and twirled her back up and into his arms for a hug.
“Excellent!” Caroline said, hugging him back.
“Ha-ha! I’m pretty amazing, aren’t I?”
Panting, Cave took off his tweed suit jacket and took a sip of hot coffee, as if a hot drink would refresh him after exercise. Caroline decided to ease her own self by lighting up a fresh cigarette. “Now, enough fooling around," Cave said. "Let’s talk science.”
Caroline gave a brief overview of what she saw during her morning rounds, ending with the promising note of Dr. Mossman's breakthrough.
“Wait wait wait, what was that about the dead body? ” Cave’s blue eyes widened. He rolled his hand for emphasis, like asking her to reel a film back.
“It was just the remains of a failed test,” Caroline said with a shrug. “I’ll add a training seminar to everyone’s schedule to make sure we all get better at cleaning up after ourselves.”
“Gosh.” Cave sat on the edge of his desk and crossed his arms. “Didn’t this happen last week, too? If we keep this up, we could get our asses bit by the Feds.”
Caroline chuckled. “Nobody is going to miss a few astronauts, Mr. Johnson. Besides, you need to break a few eggs to make an omelet.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right. You are our Lady of Science, after all.” Cave checked his large golden watch. "So, we got time to visit the lab boys before my next meeting?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then let's pay them a visit. But before I do..." Cave stood up and popped open one of the drawers behind his desk. He took out a shiny tubular object, mostly concealed in his large hands. "Heads up!" Cave lobbed it in the air. Caroline had to drop her clipboard to catch it before it bonked her head.
She held the cold object and looked it over in her hand.
A multitool. One of the really fancy ones, handcrafted and imported from Europe. Testing it out, she unsheathed a few of the tools: a knife, a can opener, wirecutters, and screwdrivers (flathead and phillips-head). Caroline flipped the multitool over, admiring the red lacquer finish to the handle. Then she saw the engraving - "Lady of Science."
Caroline looked up at her employer, her face producing a real smile. "Why, Mr. Johnson..."
"I know you're not much into jewelry - and it's a good thing because I wouldn't know what to get. But you seem to know your way around machines, which is impressive, for someone of the fairer sex. Thought you’d like it." Cave had his hands in his pockets, head bent in a rare display of modesty. "Well, happy seventh year of working for Aperture Science. Wouldn’t be the same without ya, Caroline. Keep it up and there's more goodies coming your way."
"Thank you, Mr. Johnson." Caroline slipped the multitool into her left boot. "Now then - shall we go?"
Cave and Caroline walked down the office building halls and entered the rickety elevator shaft. As they headed to the testing facility down in Test Shaft 09, Caroline thought of all she had to do for the rest of her day before the awards ceremony this evening. Her mental checklist was as long as the salt mines were deep. Science truly never rested, but that was no excuse to fall behind.
The team working on the Electromagnetic Remote Muscle Controller project was located in a larger square facility at the very floor of the mine. While Cave insisted on building more spheres upwards, they still maintained their original first few test chambers at the bottom.
From the main entrance level of the testing warehouse, a team of four scientists gathered. The entire floor level was an observation deck, with a large rectangular gap in the floor giving a full view into the test chamber below.
The lights from inside the test chamber flickered. Its external power generator hissed and howled like an angry cat. Either the device Dr. Mossman's team created used up too much energy, or she had to look into the functionality of equipment on these lower levels.
"All right!" Cave's voice boomed as he entered the testing warehouse. "Who's ready to help get Cave rich?"
Caroline popped up beside him and spoke in the tone of a commercial overdub, "Aperture Science reminds you that wealth indeed trickles down, and the richer your C.E.O. becomes, the richer you are likely to become as well."
Dr. Mossman was the first on his team to react. The tall scientist smoothed out his lab coat and approached the C.E.O. Despite only claiming to be an assistant, he had no problem stepping up as a leader.
Cave Johnson, arms crossed, peering down with pale blue eyes like chunks of iceberg. His assistant Caroline by his side, wearing a bubbly smile, and holding a pen poised down to take notes. This was the sight that many at Aperture Science were familiar with - the sight that could make or break one's career.
"Mr. Johnson," Dr. Mossman began unwaveringly, "I'd like to present to you the Electromagnetic Remote Muscle Controller."
The scientist went on to explain how it was supposed to work: a beam of energy that, when striking an organic target, caused the muscles in the body to contract. If they executed the electromagnetic beams in a certain pattern in relation to the muscular layout of the human body, they could control its precise movements, like a puppet on strings.
Dr. Mossman invited the two to peer into the observation bay. In the floor below was a bulky machine composed of several boxes, with wires snaking around to connect to a metallic projective device that looked like a telescope. One of the lab boys operated the control panel of the machine, barricaded by a concrete slab.
"What are you using to test the machine?" Cave Johnson asked.
“From a body so generously…donated this morning,” Dr. Mossman said, pointing to the opposite end of the test chamber. The body was given a fresh jumpsuit and tied upright against a pole.
“Great. Now let’s see that stiff do the twist,” Cave said.
Dr. Mossman smiled and told them to stand back and watch. Dr. Mossman gave the signal to the scientist below, who began to turn dials and flick switches on the control panel.
As the machine warmed up, the lights in the test chamber began to flicker again.
"Is this a normal occurrence while using the machine?" Caroline spoke above the mechanical whirring and the crackling of power taking place in the room below.
"Yes - well, no, it wasn't always," Dr. Mossman said, wringing his hands. "As we've increased the specificity of the controls, the lights have sometimes-"
A collapse of air like the sound of thunder ruptured below. Everyone looked down as one of the boxes powering the machine caught fire.
Caroline had worked at Aperture long enough to know that now was the time to run.
"Mr. Johnson," Caroline said, reaching for her boss's arm, starting to pull him away.
Then she saw something she hadn't before. White beams of wicked energy began to burst from the machine as it combusted. They struck in all directions, including upwards into the observation bay. Caroline could feel the heat on her face as the energy beams crackled nearly a yard away.
“Oh crap,” Cave said. Despite obviously knowing something was going wrong, he kept watching the machine’s meltdown with fascination.
"Mr. Johnson, move! " She was far shorter than him, but she took him by the shoulders, rotated him, and gave him a mean push out the door.
As they rushed out, Cave Johnson turned his head back. When she saw his face, she felt a small shock in her chest. His assistant had never seen fear in his eyes before.
"Caroline!" he shouted.
One of the stray beams struck her, crashing against her backside and collapsing the air in her lungs, like a wave sweeping her into the cold waters of Lake Michigan.
She clutched her chest, feeling each chamber and valve in her heart writhe and squirm like a violent animal.
Caroline collapsed onto the ground. She got a perfect view at Cave Johnson's polished leather shoes before the world went black.
Cave crouched and rolled his assistant over. He pressed his large hand over her pale neck, feeling no blood pumping through her jugular vein.
"Shit. Someone grab that debilitator!" Cave shouted over the sound of the machine exploding.
"You mean defibrillator ," Dr. Mossman tried to correct his boss, thought better of it, and rushed over to the apparatus encased on the wall.
While the scientist retrieved the defibrillator, Cave looked down at his assistant and frowned. Her face was wrought with pain, yet completely still, as if she were already dead.
"Sorry ‘bout this, Caroline, you know I don’t mean it," Cave said through gritted teeth. Then he pinched the neck of her blue dress and tore it open, exposing her soft bare skin. "I'd rather have you stay alive."
Dr. Mossman rushed back, popping open the brand-new Aperture Science Everyday Portable Defibrillator. A newer invention that arose out of a necessity in their laboratory, leagues ahead of modern medicine, but Cave wasn't thinking of that right now.
One paddle placed on the top-right chest of Caroline's body, the other placed on the bottom-left side of her lung, Dr. Mossman readied the machine.
"Stand clear."
Cave ignored that order and stayed by his assistant's side, worrying his hand over his mouth as he watched the scientist attempt to bring her back. Her body jumped with each shock of the defibrillator paddles. Such a pathetic fate was best reserved for Aperture's expendable test subjects. Not her.
After four goes at the electric shocks, Caroline's throat let out a gasp as if coming up for air. Her brown eyes fluttered open only for a second, then she crashed back down again.
"Caroline, you'd better not be dead," Cave said, putting his hand on her forehead. "This is a waste of company time."
She did not respond. Her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths.
Dr. Mossman unconfidently declared her heart was stable. Mr. Johnson ordered to take her to the medical bay.
"Make sure she's patched up and back to normal," the C.E.O. fumed at his scientists. "It'll be your last job before I fire you so hard that your grandchildren will be seeking unemployment benefits."
Dr. Mossman avoided Cave's eyes, looking shamefully to the ground.
"She might not make it to the medical bay," he said. "It looks like that wild beam hit her right in the heart. That wasn’t like any test we’ve seen so far, I imagine there’s been deep tissue damage-"
"Can't you just cut her old heart out and stick a new one in? What about that donor body we got down there?"
"Sir, no medical doctor has been able to perform a successful heart transplant. Besides, I'm not that kind of a doctor, I’m a physicist."
"Then what the hell am I paying you for?" Cave yelled. He pointed at Caroline's unmoving naked body. "You just killed my best assistant."
Dr. Mossman and the other scientists exchanged surprised looks. This was a new type of anger coming from Mr. Johnson. He wasn't merely burning in fury, screaming from the top of his lungs - he was smoldering, the unbelievable reality of his assistant and friend's life-threatening injury sinking in. Perhaps he was shellshocked.
"Mr. Johnson." Dr. Mossman removed his lab coat and set it over Caroline's chest, partly to keep her covered but mostly to increase his own mobility. They didn't have any sort of gurney to properly transport her body, after all. "I have an idea that can buy her some time."
In the thirty minutes it took to transfer her, Caroline’s heart stopped beating again, and had to be jumped back to life by the portable defibrillator. Not the best sign of her condition remaining stable. Eventually, they made it to their destination on the floor directly above: the testing chamber for the long-term stasis pods.
Cave stood over Caroline's body as she lay in her pod, looking like Snow White in a glass coffin. The scientists from Mossman’s group and the stasis pod group gathered mournfully around her body like the Seven Dwarves.
So did that make him, Cave Johnson, her handsome prince?
No, that wasn’t right. Cave felt more like King Midas, the smart and wealthy hero from one fairy tale, who had just walked into another fairy tale in which his best friend was stuck in a deep sleep to stop her body from dying.
"So she won't get any more damage like this?" Cave asked one of the lab boys who worked in stasis science, a baby-faced man with golden blond hair.
"No, sir," the scientist answered. "Under the stasis fumes, her body has reached a state of fixed homeostasis. The only thing to resume the deterioration would be if the machine stopped working, or if her body is taken out."
"How long does this thing run for?" Cave Johnson knocked his knuckles against the mechanical half of the stasis pod that powered the whole machine.
"As long as we'd like," the blond scientist answered. "However, you should know it's no small expense keeping it operational-"
"Then somebody better think of a way to fix her," Cave barked at all the scientists gathered. He pointed to Dr. Mossman and his group. "Except this gang of morons. You're all fired. The rest of you, work on some way to give her a new heart. Make it battery-powered if you have to. I won't have my assistant taking a sick leave I didn't approve of!"
The scientists all scattered, off to different wings of the facility, off to cobble together something that would bring Caroline back and keep her heart beating for good. All except Dr. Jerry Mossman, who tried to get Mr. Johnson’s attention.
“Nope!” Cave jeered, shoving his hand into Mossman’s face. “I won’t have you and your stupid ideas working in this or any other science lab this side of the Appalachians.” Ignoring the redheaded scientist, Cave grabbed the blond scientist in charge of the stasis team by the collar. "You, what's your name?"
"G-greg, sir."
"Congratulations, Greg, you're my new assistant. I need help preparing for tomorrow’s science awards thing."
"Y-yessir!"
“Do you know how to dance the waltz?”
Greg gulped. “I-I can learn…”
“Good!”
Cave gave Caroline in her stasis pod one last look. He placed his hand over her glass, not caring if he left behind a smudge.
She looked awful. Like a corpse, mouth partly open, dark hair frazzled, skin paler than usual.
While the lab boys worked on a way to fix her, he had to keep moving. She would have understood that. Caroline always seemed to understand him better than anyone.
Cave felt a deep and heavy tug in his chest when he realized that until someone found a way to bring her back, he would actually miss her.
It was a new and sour emotion, and he hated it.
Before tearing himself away, Cave gave one last order. "First person who fixes her gets a bonus. No, I won't tell you how much - just get it done!"