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May. 8th, 2008 02:13 amHe wouldn't realize it until a long time after, but as he watched the Lambda rocket tear itself free of its moorings and lift into the darkest upper reaches of the sky, the only thing Gordon felt was a vague, dull sense of 'good, it's done, I can go home now'.
( Doctor, my eyes / Cannot see the sky )
Looking back on it, that seemed like one of the greatest slights of all.
( Is this the prize / For having learned how not to cry? )
Home, it happened, was a long way away. Unless he wanted to climb over the local rock formations- a thought that made his entire body quail, healed or not- there was no way out on the surface. The best he could manage was a set of blast doors that hadn't been willing to open before, and more tunnels, more down. There was even another damned cart. God, if he never saw one of those things again it'd be too soon! Not that there was much of a choice, unless he wanted to walk, but still...
He was still smarting a little over the idea when he got to the flooded vertical shaft. That wouldn't have been such a problem, since swimming took the weight off horribly aching bones, but the water was full of vile, wriggly things that resembled lampreys. All of them had a powerful hankering for the taste of human face, too. And they were persistent as hell. One of them managed to get past the neck seal on his suit. Gordon couldn't get rid of that one until he was out of the water, but it hit the wall with a thoroughly satisfying schplercht. It was almost enough to make him smile.
It was definitely enough to distract him- at least, until the all-too-human scream as the water in the next room erupted in a tower of froth and red. Gordon instinctively flattened himself against the nearest wall. He just barely caught sight of something fanged and scaly disappearing beneath the surface, part of a human form being dragged down with it.
If the thing's back hadn't crested the surface again a few moments later, sliding past with all the careless ease of the croc that'd eaten the hunter, Gordon might have stayed there staring at the water forever. The sight of that orange-red back fairly slithering past jarred him into motion, and he bolted. Where he was going, he didn't know, but he knew this much: it didn't have the sea monster in it.
There was a narrow corridor (good! The giant fish thing was probably too wide to fit!), and a ladder to climb (even better! Fish couldn't climb ladders! Other than walking catfish OH GOD WHY DID HE THINK THAT), and then he was in a room that looked as if the disaster hadn't affected it at all. The lights were fine, the computers functional, the-
"Did you see it? They said it was hauled from the Challenger Deep-"
Gordon whirled, crowbar raised, but it was only a thin, older man in the lab coat and trousers of Science Team. Oblivious of the new arrival's mental state, the man continued. "I'm positive that beast never swam in terrestrial waters until a week ago."
Oh, THAT was reassuring.
"There's a tranquilizer gun in the shark cage, but I'm not sure it would work on this species," the man noted. He gave Gordon a considering look. "You're welcome to try," he added.
There was silence then, as several responses fought their way to the surface. Finally, one of them won out: "Why the hell do we even HAVE a shark cage?"
"Because we study aquatic exotic species as well as the land-based ones," the scientist answered, in what he obviously thought was a very reasonable tone. "Wouldn't you want a shark cage between you and a maw like that? Really, think before you ask these questions."
It would have been so easy to smack some sense into the man's skull with that crowbar, but Gordon settled for flipping him off before striding out to pick up that tranquilizer-
Tranquilizer crossbow, he saw as the cage started to lower itself into the water. Not even a gun. Great, just great.
There was a high-ceilinged room full of giant pistons. They must've served some purpose, surely, but as far as Gordon was concerned they were there to make that damned briefcase-carrying blue-suit-wearing bastard look that much smugger just before he turned and walked away.
Next time, Gordon promised himself, he'd shoot the son of a bitch first and try to catch up with him later.
The wounds from the lamprey worm things had mostly stopped bleeding and started trying to seal up after Gordon found a first aid kit, but dammit, he had to go and run into a clutch of the chicken things. About the only mercy there was that only one of them could start trying to rip his face to pieces at a time. Throw in the presence of a couple of those mutterclucking red-eyed aliens, who saw no problems in attacking the human with all the electricity they could muster even as the chicken beast tried to scalp him, and Gordon was in a towering rage by the time things finally went quiet. He leaned his forehead against the nearest wall, panting, trying to gather the strength to will the pain to dissipate-
"Gordon Freeman. It is you, isn't it?"
Gordon looked up, blinking the... well, he hoped it was just blood... out of his eyes.
The scientist peering around a nearby door gave a quick, cautious smile. "I thought as much," he said. "The science team's been tracking your progress with the Black Mesa security system. Unfortunately, so is the military. That suit of yours is full of tracking devices."
Tell me something I don't know, thought Gordon, but the man had a point. He just gave a single, weary nod in acknowledgment.
"Still, it's better than going naked in this place. It's cold in there." The scientist indicated a security door behind him. "That's the computing equipment cooling facility. If you want to see this thing through, you'll have to hurry. It could sap your suit power in a matter of moments. If you're bent on reaching the Lambda complex-"
All Gordon was bent on reaching was the way out. Wasn't the satellite supposed to have put this thing right? What was this about Lambda again?
"-then you'll want to keep to the older industrial areas where the security system is full of holes. It's worked for me, so far."
Gordon suppressed the urge to whimper, did his best to clean his glasses off, and straightened up. What the hell. Why not try for Lambda? It didn't matter where he was going. He knew where he'd been. Lambda couldn't be any worse.
He dropped into the best sprinter's crouch his tortured muscles would let him manage. The scientist bent over a retinal scanner. "Good luck," he said, as the first fingers of deadly frost crept into the room.
"Freeman, right?" said the security guard as the lift came to a stop. "I've got a message for you. Make sure you don't--augh!"
Gordon was diving for the relative shelter of a nearby stack of boxes before the guard's lifeless body even hit the floor. His eyes scanned the vicinity for aliens, but none were-
Something black and quiet flickered in the darkness at the edge of Gordon's vision. He turned towards it, revolver in hand. There was a zizz! noise just past his ear, and something metallic lodged in the wall nearby. Some kind of flechette, or- there! There, a human figure all in black, dipping silently behind the shipping crates that filled the whole room. It spat another of the metal things towards him; Gordon only barely avoided that one laying his face open. Ninjas! came the sudden, irrational thought. They gave up on Marines and now they're sending ninjas after me! What the hell!
He was hallucinating, he decided. He had to be. By now it was probably almost daylight. He'd been awake twenty-four hours or more, he'd run out of glucose ages ago, he'd lost and replaced more blood than three men and a slaughtered sheep, and now he was hallucinating ninjas trying to kill him. It was a good working hypothesis, and the only one that made any sense. Not that it stopped him from fighting back, of course, but he didn't bother trying to scavenge the ninjas' weapons once the last one was finally dead. Hallucinatory throwing knives wouldn't do him much good. Especially not with the surface access doors so close by, and a health dispenser on the other side, waiting for-
"Get him!" came the voice, in the instant that the world went white with pain, and then black.
"Where are we takin' this Freeman guy?"
Gordon blinked. The world was swimming too much for him to clear his vision. But he was being held up on both sides, being dragged-
"Topside for questioning."
"What the hell for? We got 'im. Let's kill him now."
"Uh... and if they find the body?"
"Body? What body?"
There was laughter on both sides. Gordon would have groaned, but the unconsciousness reclaimed him first.
( Doctor, my eyes / Cannot see the sky )
Looking back on it, that seemed like one of the greatest slights of all.
( Is this the prize / For having learned how not to cry? )
Home, it happened, was a long way away. Unless he wanted to climb over the local rock formations- a thought that made his entire body quail, healed or not- there was no way out on the surface. The best he could manage was a set of blast doors that hadn't been willing to open before, and more tunnels, more down. There was even another damned cart. God, if he never saw one of those things again it'd be too soon! Not that there was much of a choice, unless he wanted to walk, but still...
He was still smarting a little over the idea when he got to the flooded vertical shaft. That wouldn't have been such a problem, since swimming took the weight off horribly aching bones, but the water was full of vile, wriggly things that resembled lampreys. All of them had a powerful hankering for the taste of human face, too. And they were persistent as hell. One of them managed to get past the neck seal on his suit. Gordon couldn't get rid of that one until he was out of the water, but it hit the wall with a thoroughly satisfying schplercht. It was almost enough to make him smile.
It was definitely enough to distract him- at least, until the all-too-human scream as the water in the next room erupted in a tower of froth and red. Gordon instinctively flattened himself against the nearest wall. He just barely caught sight of something fanged and scaly disappearing beneath the surface, part of a human form being dragged down with it.
If the thing's back hadn't crested the surface again a few moments later, sliding past with all the careless ease of the croc that'd eaten the hunter, Gordon might have stayed there staring at the water forever. The sight of that orange-red back fairly slithering past jarred him into motion, and he bolted. Where he was going, he didn't know, but he knew this much: it didn't have the sea monster in it.
There was a narrow corridor (good! The giant fish thing was probably too wide to fit!), and a ladder to climb (even better! Fish couldn't climb ladders! Other than walking catfish OH GOD WHY DID HE THINK THAT), and then he was in a room that looked as if the disaster hadn't affected it at all. The lights were fine, the computers functional, the-
"Did you see it? They said it was hauled from the Challenger Deep-"
Gordon whirled, crowbar raised, but it was only a thin, older man in the lab coat and trousers of Science Team. Oblivious of the new arrival's mental state, the man continued. "I'm positive that beast never swam in terrestrial waters until a week ago."
Oh, THAT was reassuring.
"There's a tranquilizer gun in the shark cage, but I'm not sure it would work on this species," the man noted. He gave Gordon a considering look. "You're welcome to try," he added.
There was silence then, as several responses fought their way to the surface. Finally, one of them won out: "Why the hell do we even HAVE a shark cage?"
"Because we study aquatic exotic species as well as the land-based ones," the scientist answered, in what he obviously thought was a very reasonable tone. "Wouldn't you want a shark cage between you and a maw like that? Really, think before you ask these questions."
It would have been so easy to smack some sense into the man's skull with that crowbar, but Gordon settled for flipping him off before striding out to pick up that tranquilizer-
Tranquilizer crossbow, he saw as the cage started to lower itself into the water. Not even a gun. Great, just great.
There was a high-ceilinged room full of giant pistons. They must've served some purpose, surely, but as far as Gordon was concerned they were there to make that damned briefcase-carrying blue-suit-wearing bastard look that much smugger just before he turned and walked away.
Next time, Gordon promised himself, he'd shoot the son of a bitch first and try to catch up with him later.
The wounds from the lamprey worm things had mostly stopped bleeding and started trying to seal up after Gordon found a first aid kit, but dammit, he had to go and run into a clutch of the chicken things. About the only mercy there was that only one of them could start trying to rip his face to pieces at a time. Throw in the presence of a couple of those mutterclucking red-eyed aliens, who saw no problems in attacking the human with all the electricity they could muster even as the chicken beast tried to scalp him, and Gordon was in a towering rage by the time things finally went quiet. He leaned his forehead against the nearest wall, panting, trying to gather the strength to will the pain to dissipate-
"Gordon Freeman. It is you, isn't it?"
Gordon looked up, blinking the... well, he hoped it was just blood... out of his eyes.
The scientist peering around a nearby door gave a quick, cautious smile. "I thought as much," he said. "The science team's been tracking your progress with the Black Mesa security system. Unfortunately, so is the military. That suit of yours is full of tracking devices."
Tell me something I don't know, thought Gordon, but the man had a point. He just gave a single, weary nod in acknowledgment.
"Still, it's better than going naked in this place. It's cold in there." The scientist indicated a security door behind him. "That's the computing equipment cooling facility. If you want to see this thing through, you'll have to hurry. It could sap your suit power in a matter of moments. If you're bent on reaching the Lambda complex-"
All Gordon was bent on reaching was the way out. Wasn't the satellite supposed to have put this thing right? What was this about Lambda again?
"-then you'll want to keep to the older industrial areas where the security system is full of holes. It's worked for me, so far."
Gordon suppressed the urge to whimper, did his best to clean his glasses off, and straightened up. What the hell. Why not try for Lambda? It didn't matter where he was going. He knew where he'd been. Lambda couldn't be any worse.
He dropped into the best sprinter's crouch his tortured muscles would let him manage. The scientist bent over a retinal scanner. "Good luck," he said, as the first fingers of deadly frost crept into the room.
"Freeman, right?" said the security guard as the lift came to a stop. "I've got a message for you. Make sure you don't--augh!"
Gordon was diving for the relative shelter of a nearby stack of boxes before the guard's lifeless body even hit the floor. His eyes scanned the vicinity for aliens, but none were-
Something black and quiet flickered in the darkness at the edge of Gordon's vision. He turned towards it, revolver in hand. There was a zizz! noise just past his ear, and something metallic lodged in the wall nearby. Some kind of flechette, or- there! There, a human figure all in black, dipping silently behind the shipping crates that filled the whole room. It spat another of the metal things towards him; Gordon only barely avoided that one laying his face open. Ninjas! came the sudden, irrational thought. They gave up on Marines and now they're sending ninjas after me! What the hell!
He was hallucinating, he decided. He had to be. By now it was probably almost daylight. He'd been awake twenty-four hours or more, he'd run out of glucose ages ago, he'd lost and replaced more blood than three men and a slaughtered sheep, and now he was hallucinating ninjas trying to kill him. It was a good working hypothesis, and the only one that made any sense. Not that it stopped him from fighting back, of course, but he didn't bother trying to scavenge the ninjas' weapons once the last one was finally dead. Hallucinatory throwing knives wouldn't do him much good. Especially not with the surface access doors so close by, and a health dispenser on the other side, waiting for-
"Get him!" came the voice, in the instant that the world went white with pain, and then black.
"Where are we takin' this Freeman guy?"
Gordon blinked. The world was swimming too much for him to clear his vision. But he was being held up on both sides, being dragged-
"Topside for questioning."
"What the hell for? We got 'im. Let's kill him now."
"Uh... and if they find the body?"
"Body? What body?"
There was laughter on both sides. Gordon would have groaned, but the unconsciousness reclaimed him first.
