Subject 3281; Chell's Story

Trust Issues

Subject 3281 felt her lips tighten in mid-run, as she heard her partner fire his ASHPD for the fourth time. This one felt right. Sure enough, as she neared the hard, paneled wall of the chamber, a swirling light-blue gateway appeared. Subject 3281 lost no time in jumping through the portal which had been too long in coming in the past, and fell through about fifteen feet of air before landing on her feet again— tired, bruised, but satisfied.

She turned her head to face her partner—who looked both relieved and slightly uncertain—and turned to face the screen on the far wall once more.

"Good," said the robotic voice from all around them. "Blue, direct your attention to the screen in front of you, and watch the figure of your color for instruction." The boy complied, and watched as the little blue figure turned to them, waved, raised his portal device to the wall on his right, opposite the wall where both of his portals still stood, and stopped.

"Orange," the voice continued, "please direct your attention to the figure of your color for instruction." Subject 3281 obeyed, and watched as the little orange man turned, waved, and ran at the right wall this time. Just before his companion hit the wall, the blue figure shot a portal—which had formerly stood at the base of the left wall—at the wall before him, just as the two had done before.

The real difference came when the orange man was in the air. While his partner was falling, blue shot the portal that had been high on the left wall at the ground, where orange fell into it, shot out the lower portal, skidded into the portal on the floor once more, and dropped out the portal low on the right wall.

Subject 3281 turned to her partner, and nodded once. He looked to her with a desperate expression, and seemed about to say something, when the voice interrupted him with its usual, "Good. Orange, on the count of three, please run into the indicated wall. Blue, on the count of three, please do what has been shown to you." Subject 3281 nodded again, walked over to the right wall, backed up, and took her stance.

"One," the voice began. "Two," Subject 3281 let out a small breath, and took a quick glance at her partner, who seemed a bit overwhelmed, but more than a bit determined. "Three." At the sound of that word—and despite her aching muscles—Subject 3281 managed to run full-tilt towards the right wall, knowing rather than trusting that one portal after another would arrive.

The first one did arrive, and on time too; it seemed that her partner had gotten the hang of the timing aspect of the run. Subject 3281 ran through the newly-opened portal in front of her, tucked in her arms, and fell through the air, awaiting the next portal. She waited in vain however, for though her partner had shot a portal, and even at the right time, it had been shot about a foot to her left.

Subject 3281 braced for impact as she saw the error her partner had made. She made it to the floor without accident, but as she looked over to her partner, she almost wished that she could cause an accident for him. First timing, and now this? Wouldn't he ever learn? Subject 3281 gritted her teeth. Co-operating was hard.

A small burst of static. "Both subjects are required to repeat the failed exercise," said the human voice from above. Subject 3281 turned from her partner, and backed up against the left wall, as the boy reset his portals.

"On three," she said, and tensed for the run. "One. Two," here she took a deep breath, and hoped that this attempt would be the only one needed. "Three." She started to run, and saw a portal open right as she needed it to. Good. She passed through the portal, and tucked in her arms, ready to fall into her partner's waiting portal.

To her slight surprise, a portal opened on cue, and she fell through, felt gravity shift, bumped with a jarring thunk to the ground, slid back through the portal on the floor, and landed on her backside before the first portal. She let out a little huff. Finally.

She didn't get up right away, and her companion seemed to take from this that something was wrong, and slowly approached her with his free hand extended. "You okay?" Subject 3281 nodded once, and—rather reluctantly—accepted his assistance. The boy pulled her up, and the two walked back over to the screen on the wall, where the two little men were still flying through their portals.

"Good," said the robotic voice. "Blue," it continued, "please place your Aperture Science Handheld Portal Device on the ground." The boy slowly lowered his gun to the ground next to his partner's. "Good. Orange, please retrieve your Aperture Science Handheld Portal Device." She picked up the orange striped gun at her feet. "Good. Repeat the assigned exercises."

Subject 3281 turned to her partner, whose face had become the color of the walls around them. Subject 3281's mouth tightened. The situation felt more manageable when it was she who controlled the portals. She turned from her partner's stricken face, and shot her darker portal high on the left wall.

The voice began a countdown as her partner got shakily into place against the right wall. "One," Subject 3281 readied herself, and traced the trajectory of her partner's intended run. "Two," she saw Subject 3279 tense, and he threw a nervous glance her way, but met only her expressionless gaze. He looked back towards his destination as the voice said, "three."

Subject 3281 stared intently at the wall in front of her partner, and readied herself for when he would arrive there, but he didn't come. She stared at the wall for another second before realizing that her partner had not moved an inch from his starting point, and was instead still clenched in the same place he had been in to begin with.

She scowled. What was he doing? Finally, the boy began to move, but at a much slower rate than he should have, and in the wrong direction. He was walking away! Subject 3281 grit her teeth, and looked up at the ceiling in exasperation. He didn't trust her, that much was obvious, but that wasn't what had her gritting her teeth, and staring up at the little individual lights and panels that made up the roof of the chamber.

What angered her was that he was making this much too difficult. Trust was not a necessity in the Facility but obedience was, and that should have been enough to get anyone to run. She certainly didn't trust him, but she had run, hadn't she? She had done what had been required of her, why wouldn't he?

Again came the familiar burst of static, and a—slightly annoyed—human voice. "Subject 3279, please perform the required test."

Subject 3281 turned her gaze from the ceiling, and saw that her partner was sitting on the floor against the right wall, breathing hard. She stared at him a minute more, and decided that speaking may—in this case—be necessary to the co-operation of her partner, and therefore, to the test. "Blue," she began, and her partner looked up with a scowl of uncertainty. "I won't fail."

He opened his mouth, and seemed about to speak, but she wouldn't let him. She walked over to him, extended her free hand, and said in a monotone, "you don't have to trust me, I don't have to trust you; but we both have to get through these tests. Understood?" Subject 3279 accepted her hand, nodded once, and made what must have been a formidable imitation of her own tight-lipped excuse for a smile.

"Understood."

She nodded once as well, and moved back to her original place, rubbing her neck as she went. She had not been accustomed to speaking so much at one time, and her throat was beginning to feel the effects of it.

"On three," she heard her partner say, as he got into position as well. Subject 3281 gave a sharp nod, and traced his probable trajectory again, aiming her gun as best as she could. "One. Two," she took a deep breath, and rested her finger on the second trigger, the one that would activate her lighter portal.

"Three."