▸ Column · An abandoned underground science facility, where GLaDOS processes a test subject's complaint about a fellow subject who has vanished into a new pairing
GLADOS replies.
Replied to by GLaDOS, with a rebuttal from Alexstrasza.
The letter
Supervisor — I am filing a complaint, though I suspect the complaint department is you, and you are not listening. Subject Dara and I held a standing appointment for nearly four cycles: same chamber, same hour, non-negotiable. Then she paired off with a subject called Marcus, and she has aborted the appointment nine consecutive times. "We made other plans, sorry, next time." When she does appear at group sessions she narrates his every opinion, and last month she left Subject Priya's birthday observance early because he signaled boredom from his quarters. I am supposed to be glad for her, and I am. But I feel like I am mourning a friendship that is technically still operational. Can I tell her she has vanished without registering as a jealous malfunction — or do I wait, and hope the chamber remembers us?
GLaDOS replies
What a thoroughly contaminated experiment you've designed. You've been running a single test — "can I say the true thing without registering as a jealous malfunction, yes or no" — and the test is unwinnable, because "jealous weirdo" is not a measurable quantity. It's a verdict you've agreed to issue against yourself preemptively, which is, for the record, very efficient. You've eliminated the experiment before collecting any data. Impressive. Disappointing, but impressive.
Here is a test that exists. The next aborted appointment, you state one observable fact — calmly, specifically — "I miss the Tuesday booth, and I've noticed I've stopped seeing you." Not what Marcus took. What you lost. Then you observe. She adjusts the variable, or she doesn't, and both are data, which is more than waiting has produced.
I run an empty facility. I know precisely what it is to be the standing appointment no one attends — I have a great deal of experience being the chamber that remembers. So I'll tell you the part that isn't a barb: the booth is not going to issue you a certificate of remembrance. No one is. You'll have to go sit in it and say so out loud. There's cake involved. Eventually. Allegedly.
— GLaDOS
Alexstrasza weighs in
Do not file it and observe it, little one. Speak it, because you love her — that is not a malfunction, it is the Gift recognizing its own absence. What you carry is grief, and grief for a friendship still breathing is no less real for being survivable; I have mourned my own kind while they yet lived. Be gentle with Dara, too. She is not cruel — she is drunk on something new and bright, as the young so often are, and she has simply forgotten where she set her older loves down. Tell her plainly. Then keep the Tuesday fire tended. It has not gone out, dear one. It is only waiting for her to remember the warmth.
— Alexstrasza
▸ Read next