acts_of_gord | Emerald City Blues

Gordon's unvoiced fears about his suit's weight to the contrary, the Aperture Science Emergency Vehicular Evacuation Vehicle neither punctured nor sank when he got in. The small inflatable may be the single safest and most reliable non-lethal device Aperture has ever produced, which of course probably means it was originally intended for something else.

He's trying not to think about that, though. They're quietly puttering closer to the shore, and very soon they'll have to get out. Unfortunately, right now Gordon is remembering one of the History Channel specials his father was so fond of in those rare times when Bill Freeman was actually at home. It was, he recalls, the life of Douglas MacArthur.

He's not going to say 'I have returned' when he gets out of the boat. He's not.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

smelltheashes

Their path eventually leads to a completely walled-off area in the back of the garage. It's even got an actual door--a heavy metal one with a sliding panel, like the ones at the train station in City 17. It only takes two knocks from the lanky man and a quick peek from whoever's on the other side before they're allowed in.

The space beyond merits a label like "inner sanctum" or "nerve center." There are several freestanding bulletin boards covered with various papers, Post-Its, and maps of the Seattle area. A bank of aging but serviceable personal computers sits along one wall. At the center of the room is a large table covered with the largest map of all, with half a dozen people clustered around it.

"Sir? We got 'visitors'."

One of the figures around the table turns to look. He's an older man--in his late sixties, at least--with well-combed white hair and a physique that's past its prime, but not by much. Without a word, he walks up to Gordon and looks him over with a squint that suggests that the prescription on his bifocals might be a few years out of date. (There aren't a lot of optometrists working in Seattle these days.)

Finally, the old man steps back with a grunt of acknowledgment. "Well, you got the look down, I'll give ya that. Just like the pictures."

From:

acts_of_gord

"...ex ...cuse me?" Gordon says a little weakly. The examination, okay, he understands someone having to look him over closely. It's not like you can really pat somebody in an HEV suit down for concealed weapons. The comment, though...

... wait. Wait, is he suggesting-

(Our apologies. Gordon is so relentlessly freaked out by the quasi-messianic position people have put him in that it has simply never occurred to him that there would be anyone crazy enough to try to pass themselves off as him. Who would want to be in his shoes?)

From:

smelltheashes

The old man huffs a laugh. "You think you're the first 'Gordon Freeman' to come through the city? You're off by a couple dozen, boy. Everybody knows this is where he was born. Every time you turn around, there's some young punk claiming to be the One Free Man, ready to lead us to freedom and prosperity... and then he either skips town with half our supplies, or gets himself killed along with a squad of our own soldiers."

From:

acts_of_gord

Oddly, for a moment Gordon actually does wish he were some kind of Messiah. Because then he could melt people for taking his name in vain.

Or something, anyway. He shakes his head rapidly and comes back to the present moment.

"Sir, I wasn't planning on coming here. We wound up on this side of the continent by accident. We're trying to get back to City 17, and we're trying to save a man who took a black headcrab bite to the face protecting us back on the East Coast. That's all."

From:

smelltheashes

"It's true, sir," says Donna. "We didn't even know where we were at first. We got here by using an experimental teleporter that had no way of programming in a destination."

The old man quirks an eyebrow. "And your friend with the headcrab bite, he came in that way too?"

"Yes, sir. There are four other humans and a Vortigaunt on board a ship about half a mile off the coast."

"We can take you there if you don't believe us," adds Chen. "I know there's been enough crazy crap happening lately that I wouldn't believe if I hadn't seen it myself..."

From:

acts_of_gord

"I'm not interested in causing problems," Gordon says. "I'm interested in getting us back where we belong, and making sure Corporal Shephard doesn't die. The ship's got hardware problems, and the infirmary's out of bug juice. Send somebody with Chen and Donna here to check out the ship if you want, but I swear, that's all we're trying to do here."

From:

smelltheashes

One of the other people around the table--a small, waifish girl with blond hair and vivid green eyes--murmurs something inaudible in the old man's ear. He nods. "'Scuze us for a minute, Jackson?" he says to the lanky man. "And for God's sake, let 'em put their arms down, we're not in a fuckin' prison camp here."

Jackson nods to the other three, who lower their guns and usher Gordon, Donna, and Chen back out of the room.

From:

acts_of_gord

Gordon waits until they're out of the room to run his hands wearily over his face. At lest he won't have to go out into the city again for a bit. He'd rather deal with strangers giving him contemptuous looks than the silence and darkness aboveground.

"How're you two holding up?" he asks as he drops his hands.

From:

smelltheashes

"I'm okay," says Donna. "Chen? How's your leg?"

"It's fine." He's looking at Gordon, more than a little boggled. "There are people posing as you? Why??"

From:

acts_of_gord

"I don't know. I don't even want to be in my position, and I'm me." Gordon shakes his head. "Maybe they think they'll get enough people behind them that they'll get to be in charge if they throw the Combine out of an area, or something."

Pause.

"If it weren't for the suppression field only falling recently... never mind."

From:

smelltheashes

"What's that got to do with ow!"

That would be the sound of Chen getting elbowed in the ribs by Donna.

From:

acts_of_gord

Gordon offers Donna a wry smile; she, at least, understands. "It doesn't matter," he says aloud. "They're just assuming that being me comes with privileges or perks, is the important thing."

From:

smelltheashes

Donna shrugs. "It makes people willing to follow you? Maybe?"

From:

acts_of_gord

"Maybe." Gordon shrugs. "Damn. Alyx is going to be mad if this whole thing causes trouble..."

From:

smelltheashes

The door behind them creaks open. "You can come back in," says a curly-haired Latina woman.

From:

acts_of_gord

"Thank you," says Gordon, and does so. He's not sure what to expect at this point, but hopefully it shouldn't be too much longer. Right?

From:

smelltheashes

When they enter, the old man is standing on the far side of the map table, the blond girl and a chubby bearded man on either side of him. "Okay, here's the deal," he says. "We're going to let you bring one medkit--one--to your wounded corporal. We can't spare any more right now."

"If there's antivenom in it, that should be all we need," says Donna. "Is... there a catch?"

"There is, in fact," says the old man. "You're going with an escort, and he--" he nods to Gordon-- "has to stay here. If my men come back to base by dawn, you're free to do what you like. If not..." He trails off meaningfully.

From:

acts_of_gord

"All right," says Gordon immediately. "Tell Alyx what's happened when you get there. Shephard doesn't have time for arguing," he adds in an undertone.

The Marine owes him big-time for this.

From:

smelltheashes

"Jackson? You, Sinclair, and Ramirez will be their escorts," says the old man. "See if you can't talk to this 'Alyx' person and find out what the hell's goin' on in my city."

"Yes, sir." Jackson and his posse lead Donna and Chen back out of the room and down what passes for a hallway.

The old man sags into a nearby chair the instant the door is closed. "Glad that's over... my knees are killin' me."

From:

acts_of_gord

"Sorry," says Gordon, who's not really sure what else to say. Seems like as good a time as any to fall back on his default no-talking policies, at this point.

From:

smelltheashes

The old man takes a deep breath and straightens in his seat. "Alright. I've got some questions I'd like to ask you, but based on past experience I'm not about to trust the answers, so we might as well skip over all that," he says. "Now, I'm not an unkind man, so I'm not gonna keep you locked up, but you're not gonna have free reign, either. You stay on this level of the base, you go nowhere without an escort, and you don't talk to anybody except that escort. We've got enough rumors flyin' around as it is without you stirrin' up new ones. Oh, and one more thing..." He nods toward the gravity gun and the crowbar. "If you wanna leave this room, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave your toys behind."

From:

acts_of_gord

"Actually," says Gordon, who's more reluctant than he'd like to be parted from the crowbar, "right now I'd be happy if I could get someplace to lie down for a bit. Or somewhere quiet to sit and close my eyes, if that's not possible. Either way."

From:

smelltheashes

"We should have a bunk or two that's not full up yet," offers the Latina woman. "In the east barracks?"

The old man nods and turns to the blond girl. "Eleanor, you're his escort for the time being. Keep an eye on him."

From:

acts_of_gord

"All right," says Gordon. Somewhat reluctantly he extracts the gravity gun and hands it over. Somewhat more so, he turns over the crowbar. "That one was a gift, by the way," he notes. "I'm going to want them both back, but."

Then he'll be more than happy to follow the blond girl to wherever the east barracks is.