(no subject)
Apr. 16th, 2008 04:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
acts_of_gordBlack Mesa Central Complex
Sector A Training Facility
Reception Area
You expect a safety orientation on your first day at a new job. It’s par for the course. The nature of the orientation varies. In an ordinary office job you can look forward to the location of the exits, and maybe the fire extinguishers. In an academic job in the hard sciences, you get ‘here are the decontamination showers’ and ‘don’t put anything magnetic inside the yellow and black tape lines’.
At Black Mesa, the orientation is just a bit different.
“Uh… Dr. Kleiner said to report here this morning for mandatory equipment safety training,” said Gordon Freeman, glancing at the neatly typed note that’d been waiting for him in his quarters. For a reception area, the room was surprisingly empty; there was an unoccupied desk and two chairs. One of the innumerable blue-clad security guards was unlocking a grey door on the far side of the room. “Does this have anything to do with them needing all my measurements?”
“You’re science team, aren’t you.” The guard, a dark-haired man a few years younger than Gordon, looked up and grinned. “Hoo boy, are you in for a treat.”
Gordon lowered his glasses fractionally, the better to give the man a long, dry look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothin’,” said the guard as he opened the door. “If they haven’t told you yet, I don’t wanna spoil the surprise. Haven’t seen a science team member yet who didn’t fall in love with their new present just as soon as they got it.”
“Present?” Alarm bells were going off in Gordon’s head.
“Yep. You’ll see- and I’ll see you on the firing range.”
“The- wait, what?” Gordon shoved his glasses back into place. “Hey!”
But the unmarked door had locked behind the guard. Gordon stared at it in frustration, then turned away. This was not a promising start to-
“Mr. Freeman?” It was a woman’s voice coming over the PA speakers. “You’re just in time. Please take the green door directly to your left.”
Definitely not a promising start. The industrial walkway that stretched into half-lit shadows on the other side did nothing to assuage the worries rising at the back of his mind. Putting the worst of it aside, he stepped forward.
The door closed behind Gordon with a click of suspicious finality.
This is insane, thought Gordon, following the catwalk towards the only possible conclusion- a dimly lit platform up ahead. What kind of safety orientation is this? Where’s everybody else? Don’t they have other people who need training today, too? Shouldn’t someone be meeting me? I admit, there’s no way for me to get off this catwalk without jumping- He paused, peering over the railing for a moment. -I can’t even tell how far, but still, this isn’t how you treat new people at a secure facility-
On the platform up ahead, lights started switching on, and a woman’s form flickered into translucent life. Her hair was pulled up tightly in a bun, and she wore an orange and grey suit of some kind of armor. ”Welcome to the Black Mesa Hazard Course,” she said, her expression a long-practiced, reassuring smile, ”where you will be trained in the use of the Hazardous Environment Suit. I am your holographic assistant.”
“. . . “
He hadn’t expected that.
”Let’s begin by stepping into your suit.” she continued as a door slid open behind her. ”You can see it suspended up ahead. If you require assistance, press one of the console buttons, and I will appear to assist you.”
Gordon could no more have resisted moving forward than he could’ve held back the rising of the sun. Whatever he had expected, this wasn’t it; but whatever was happening now was of so much more importance. . .
It was there, all right. Up ahead, in a display case that slid open at his approach. The same armor the holographic image had worn, but solid and real- very solid, he discovered as he rapped his knuckles against the lambda painted on the chest plate. He couldn’t identify the material it was made of, but he doubted that mattered. This was protection of the highest kind for everything from throat to toes, the kind of armor that made the stuff he wore on the downhill trails look like strategically painted cardboard by comparison. Gordon had very little doubt that it could stand up to punishments the human body could only dream of taking. And they expect me to wear this . . .
He should have been worried, he realized in a dim, distant sort of way, but the prospect only made him want to laugh. How could he not? He was being handed a piece of a Heinlein vision made real! The worrying would come later. For now, he had a suit to put on- and, he had no doubt, a whole lot of serious science ahead of him. You didn’t wear a suit like that just to push buttons and wash bottles, after all.
Sector A Training Facility
Reception Area
You expect a safety orientation on your first day at a new job. It’s par for the course. The nature of the orientation varies. In an ordinary office job you can look forward to the location of the exits, and maybe the fire extinguishers. In an academic job in the hard sciences, you get ‘here are the decontamination showers’ and ‘don’t put anything magnetic inside the yellow and black tape lines’.
At Black Mesa, the orientation is just a bit different.
“Uh… Dr. Kleiner said to report here this morning for mandatory equipment safety training,” said Gordon Freeman, glancing at the neatly typed note that’d been waiting for him in his quarters. For a reception area, the room was surprisingly empty; there was an unoccupied desk and two chairs. One of the innumerable blue-clad security guards was unlocking a grey door on the far side of the room. “Does this have anything to do with them needing all my measurements?”
“You’re science team, aren’t you.” The guard, a dark-haired man a few years younger than Gordon, looked up and grinned. “Hoo boy, are you in for a treat.”
Gordon lowered his glasses fractionally, the better to give the man a long, dry look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothin’,” said the guard as he opened the door. “If they haven’t told you yet, I don’t wanna spoil the surprise. Haven’t seen a science team member yet who didn’t fall in love with their new present just as soon as they got it.”
“Present?” Alarm bells were going off in Gordon’s head.
“Yep. You’ll see- and I’ll see you on the firing range.”
“The- wait, what?” Gordon shoved his glasses back into place. “Hey!”
But the unmarked door had locked behind the guard. Gordon stared at it in frustration, then turned away. This was not a promising start to-
“Mr. Freeman?” It was a woman’s voice coming over the PA speakers. “You’re just in time. Please take the green door directly to your left.”
Definitely not a promising start. The industrial walkway that stretched into half-lit shadows on the other side did nothing to assuage the worries rising at the back of his mind. Putting the worst of it aside, he stepped forward.
The door closed behind Gordon with a click of suspicious finality.
This is insane, thought Gordon, following the catwalk towards the only possible conclusion- a dimly lit platform up ahead. What kind of safety orientation is this? Where’s everybody else? Don’t they have other people who need training today, too? Shouldn’t someone be meeting me? I admit, there’s no way for me to get off this catwalk without jumping- He paused, peering over the railing for a moment. -I can’t even tell how far, but still, this isn’t how you treat new people at a secure facility-
On the platform up ahead, lights started switching on, and a woman’s form flickered into translucent life. Her hair was pulled up tightly in a bun, and she wore an orange and grey suit of some kind of armor. ”Welcome to the Black Mesa Hazard Course,” she said, her expression a long-practiced, reassuring smile, ”where you will be trained in the use of the Hazardous Environment Suit. I am your holographic assistant.”
“. . . “
He hadn’t expected that.
”Let’s begin by stepping into your suit.” she continued as a door slid open behind her. ”You can see it suspended up ahead. If you require assistance, press one of the console buttons, and I will appear to assist you.”
Gordon could no more have resisted moving forward than he could’ve held back the rising of the sun. Whatever he had expected, this wasn’t it; but whatever was happening now was of so much more importance. . .
It was there, all right. Up ahead, in a display case that slid open at his approach. The same armor the holographic image had worn, but solid and real- very solid, he discovered as he rapped his knuckles against the lambda painted on the chest plate. He couldn’t identify the material it was made of, but he doubted that mattered. This was protection of the highest kind for everything from throat to toes, the kind of armor that made the stuff he wore on the downhill trails look like strategically painted cardboard by comparison. Gordon had very little doubt that it could stand up to punishments the human body could only dream of taking. And they expect me to wear this . . .
He should have been worried, he realized in a dim, distant sort of way, but the prospect only made him want to laugh. How could he not? He was being handed a piece of a Heinlein vision made real! The worrying would come later. For now, he had a suit to put on- and, he had no doubt, a whole lot of serious science ahead of him. You didn’t wear a suit like that just to push buttons and wash bottles, after all.
