The downside of gathering long term supplies for the crew, was that Lex did have to make sure they were all brought on board and stowed away properly. It cut into his vacation time, but it was a small price to pay to get some business done, and make a few connections that he'll be able to call on later. Besides, with 99% of the crew off the ship,
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||Hello!|| chirps the distinctive, broken voice of GLaDOS.
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"I've been looking forward to talking to you for a while now." Because an AI that can make any member of this crew disappear and keep everyone else from even realizing that said member is gone? That is definitely one he wanted to get to know.
"I've been admiring the research you've been doing on the crew, and I was wondering if you could help me out with something.
"I need you to run a test."
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This gets her attention.
||Of course. We of the Transmigration 9 seek to track the finest data possible through our tests. What manner of test shall I run?||
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"A stress test, on a particular member of the crew: Steve Burnside. It's very important that we find out how much stress is too much for him."
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||A test of the stress capacity of crewman Steve Burnside is possible at this ti-ime. Whe-ere shall the test be run?||
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"The sensoriums would be a good location, it'll be easy to create a variety of stressful conditions there." He could also safely observe from Neuropathy and record everything.
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She's resourceful, though.
GLaDOS is a broken, but sly construct. It takes her only moments to dig through Stacy's accessible files for one in particular.
The voice of the Warden personality rings out in its typical, pre-recorded fashion.
||Steve Burnside. Please report to the Sensoriums.||
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Still, he'd been late to report to medical and now the stern voice yelling his name across the ship was doing nothing to reassure him it wasn't a big deal. One hand fiddling with the thin, membrane-like bandage over his arm, he opened the sensorium door and stepped into the darkened chamber.
"Yeah?" he called to... whoever had summoned him. "It's, uh... it's Steve. Who is it?"
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She fails to answer the question, but her voice does the job for her. It's pretty distinctive.
||Hello crewman Steve Burnsi-ide. Welcome to your non-routine stress capacity test. Please proceed to the opposite end of the chamber to begin your non-routine stress capacity test.||
It's a simple room, with a doorway to one end. There is an elevator. There's no indication of where it might lead.
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"What? What the hell is this?" he asks, turning around and reaching for the door-- which is now gone. "I can't do a stress test!"
Hell no, he has no intention of going to that elevator.
"In fact, I'm pretty sure I'm definitely not allowed to do a stress test," he announces, backing against the wall.
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||Permission is already granted. Please proceed to the elevator to begin the test.||
Come on Steve, don't make the nice AI beg!
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||If you complete your test there will be a party with all of your friends|| she coaxes as the floor increases in speed. ||There will be a party with cake.||
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"Who the hell granted permission for this?" he yells again. Sure doesn't take much to stress him out, does it?
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The elevator slows and comes to a gentle halt, hissing softly as it opens.
It's another, relatively long hallway. With no sign of anything dangerous at all in it.
||Please proce-ed to the elevator at the other side of the chamber to continue your test.||
Should be a walk in the park!
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He hesitates for a long moment before he stands up and very carefully takes a few steps into the next room.
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