I awoke with the general sense that something wasn’t as it should be. For one thing I was rather cold, and the surface below me seemed far too hard and smooth for even my half asleep mind to confuse with a bed. There was also a somewhat alarming sense that the floor was moving, a very subtle vibration combined with a gentle rocking motion that…
BOOM!
Okay, so maybe not so subtle or so gentle. My eyes snapped open as the room ran into something. Yes, that is a fairly unlikely scenario, and a more sane sounding explanation would be that something had run into the room. After all, rooms are normally stationary, but even just coming into wakefulness I felt very certain about what my body’s kinesthetic sense was telling me.
The mobile room was an oddity in decoration as well. It was all done in white tile; the floor, the walls, the ceiling. There were no windows, though illumination was provided via a series of oddly glowing strips that ran along the perimeter of the ceiling. The unnaturally white light was of an artificial source I had never seen before, and would have been a subject of interest to explore under less alarming circumstances.
There was what I presumed to be a door set into the wall opposite of me. Like the room, its construction was unlike any aesthetic I was familiar with, being what seemed to be a metallic disk inside a circular frame with no obvious means to operate. Truth be told, the only reason I concluded it might be an entrance/exit was the simple lack of any other features that could possibly be one.
The real oddity however was a device hanging in one corner of the room. It was a bulky, egg shaped thing mounted on a bracket. Its casing was the same sterile white of the room décor, and it put me in mind of a telescope given the obvious glass lens positioned on the end facing me. How anypony was supposed to use it unless they were a pegasi was beyond me, and even then what could they look at given its orientation?
My curiosity engaged, I started towards the device in the hopes that a closer visual inspection might yield some clues as to its nature. As I moved however the device responded in kind, an odd whirring sound admitting from within as the entire casing tilted down, the frontal lens spinning as it remained oriented on my position. I froze as the idea that this…thing…was somehow watching me slammed into my brain. The room, which had merely seemed bizarre and alien before suddenly took on a sinister aspect to my perceptions.
Now I’m not normally a claustrophobic pony, but I think under the circumstances the sudden desire I had to leave the strange room and its assorted oddities could be taken as a perfectly rational reaction. Keeping one eye upon my mechanical watcher, I sidled over to what I now really hoped was a door, and inspected it for a means of operation.
As I did so I was scared nearly out from under my horn by a voice that rang through the room. It wasn’t really loud so much as it was all encompassing. It was vaguely feminine in tone, but spoken with an unsettling flatness. It was a voice devoid of emotion or inflection, something chillingly nonpony.
“Hello, and welcome to the Aperture Science Computer-Aided Enrichment Center. We are happy that you have volunteered for the Mandatory Perpetual Testing Initiative, Subsidiary Acquisition Program, Phase Alpha. For proper Test Subject documentation, please state your name, now…”
In response, I stared blankly in a vaguely upwards fashion as I tried to deduce where the voice was coming from.
“Documentation error detected. Resetting. Please state your name for the record, now…”
“Uh…Twilight Sparkle. What is…”
“Name documented. Test Subject Twilight Sparkle, please state your species, now…”
“Now hold on a moment here...”
“Documentation error detected. Resetting. Test Subject Twilight Sparkle, please state your species, now…”
I sighed in slowly mounting annoyance, but decided to play along for the moment. “Equus ferus unicoruis.”
“Test Subject species documented. Prepare for Basic Cognitive Evaluation.”
“Okay look, whoever you are, I demand to know…”
“Preparation Period expired, beginning evaluation. Two plus two equals…”
“…four,” I responded with some grouchiness. Trying to talk with the voice was getting me nowhere.
“Two times two equals…”
“ Also four.”
“Two squared…”
“Four!” I interrupted.
“The thirty-seventh digit of pi is…”
“Gee I wonder, could it be…four?” And I was in full sarcasm mode.
“This concludes the Basic Cognitive Evaluation.”
“Woo…now that we got that out of the way, maybe you could…”
“Testing may now commence, please enter the first Test Chamber, now.”
The door suddenly opened, the disc splitting down the middle as either half was retracted into its respective side of the wall with a hissing sound. Through the opening I could now see another room, rather similar to the one I was in, though a good deal larger. It also contained a few extra features.
There was a door perfectly opposite the one I was looking through, as well as another of the not-telescope devices hanging in a corner, its lens already oriented on me. Visually dominating the space however was the button. The big, red button. And when I say big, I really mean it, a pony could comfortably stand entirely upon the thing. The contrast of so much red against the stark whiteness of the room was so attention grabbing that it took me a moment to notice the remaining two features of the room. There was a short podium, little more than a light grey circular column really, with its own shiny red button set at its apex. And in the corner opposite the not-telescope, a glass sided tube hung down from the ceiling, capped on the bottom with a metallic hatch. Within the tube was a grey, pony sized cube.
“Please enter the first Test Chamber, now,” the voice repeated as I continued to stare, unmoving, into the new room.
“What if I refuse?” I asked petulantly, starting to get really annoyed with the entire situation.
“Please enter the first Test Chamber, now.” Was it my imagination, or had the voice actually had an inflection that time? It seemed almost, almost mind, annoyed.
“Make me.”
“Deploying Test Subject Motivational Wall.”
“…Motivational Wall?”
There was a booming clicking sound behind me, and I spun in shock at the noise. The sound echoed for a moment, before being drowned out by hissing that would have shamed a steam locomotive, and the far wall began to press into the room, squeezing the tiny space even smaller. Needless to say, I made a quick, mostly involuntary retreat of surprise at learning what a ‘Motivational Wall’ was. My shuffling steps carried me out of the room, and the door snapped shut right in front of my nose.
I stood there for a moment, my heart racing as I listened to the awful mechanics driving the wall, only slightly muffled by the intervening structure. There was a horrible crunching sound, and another boom that rattled the floor under my hooves as the wall finished its trip. I stared at the door as a dreadful sinking feeling settled into my stomach in response to the sudden wild imaginations running through my mind. I was just starting to realize how unpleasant of a situation I might really be in.
Turning from the door, I eyed its twin across the Test Chamber. With a steadying sigh, I started timidly across the room until I stood before the absurdly oversized button set into the floor. I reached out a hoof for it, but a pang of caution made me retract my limb before actually making contact. Instead I took a few steps back, and then reached out with my magic. I pressed down, and the button sank nearly half a hoof before I met any resistance. A chime rang through the room, and the door popped open.
“Huh, well that was easy.” I know, I have a bad habit of tempting fate. I let go of the button as I started for the opening, and there was a short buzz before the door snapped shut again. Rolling my eyes in annoyance, I reached back with my magic to reactivate the button. Another chime, and the door was open again.
I was just about to reach the exit when the buzzer sounded again, and the door slammed shut in my face. I frowned at it, glancing back to confirm that yes, I was still depressing the button.
“What the hay!” I demanded indignantly.
“Issuing Standard Apology Recording, Mark Four,” the voice paused for a second. “Apology Recording not found, activating Ad Libitum Program: So very sorry, but this is an Unacceptable Test Resolution Solution.”
“Oh come on!”
“Please follow proper Testing Guidelines.”
“I don’t know the ‘Testing Guidelines’!” Ah sarcasm, my good friend.
“Ignorance of the Testing Guidelines does not grant immunity for disobeying the Testing Guidelines. Failure to follow Testing Guidelines may result in disqualification of Testing Scores, followed by Test Subject Termination.”
“…termination?” I squeaked. I’m not proud of that, but that not so subtle threat was chilling, especially delivered as it was without so much as a hint of malice. It was simply stated with an unquestionable certainty. “Well then, could you explain them to me…please?”
“Request being processed. Request processed. One copy of Aperture Science: A Guideline for Fun and Safe Testing has been ordered, and shall be presented to subject Twilight Sparkle upon delivery. Estimated delivery time is four weeks, three days, and twelve hours.”
I stood there for a long moment as that sank in through the simmering fear. Then something snapped. Then I snapped.
“You expect me to just sit here for four weeks before I can read the stupid rule book for your dumb tests so that I don’t accidently do something that’ll get me killed!”
“Please continue testing.”
Well that answered that. My fear and annoyance boiled over into a sudden rage, and I eyed the Test Chamber, taking in the variables. My magic lashed out, stabbing down upon the button on the podium. The hatch on the glass tube opened like an iris with the smooth whisper of metal on metal, and I caught the cube before it had fallen even halfway to the floor. With what was probably more force than was strictly required I slammed the box down on the big red button hard enough that something popped loose and went whizzing across the room.
The chime sounded, and the door opened.
“Excellent work Test Subject Twilight Sparkle.”
“Damn right,” I scoffed at the door, the voice, and the Test Chamber at large. I marched on through the opening, and was brought up short as I nearly walked right through some kind of energy field stretched across the hallway beyond. It was an odd, shimmering curtain of bluish power that put me in mind of a gentling rippling pond.
“Please continue on to the Chamber Lock located at the end of each Test Chamber.”
“What is that?” I asked, pointing a hoof at the field. I didn’t question if the speaker of the voice could see me. It seemed perfectly aware of my activates thus far after all.
“Please continue on to the Chamber Lock located at the end of each Test Chamber,” The voice repeated.
“Bite my flank,” I muttered, leaning in to inspect the field. My horn lit as I reached out towards the energy, but came up empty. Whatever it was, it wasn’t any type of magic as I understood it. As far as my arcane senses were concerned, nothing was there.
“The potential hypnotic properties of the Aperture Science Material Emancipation Grill are not part of this Test Chamber,” the voice informed me. “Please continue on to the Chamber Lock located at the end of each Test Chamber.”
“Or what?” I demanded before my better judgment could have a say. I clapped a hoof over my treacherous mouth, but there was nothing I could do to bring back the words. The response I got however was not the one I was expecting.
Silence.
I stood waiting, my senses straining in anxious anticipation, but nothing happened. The voice remained quiet, and in its place a rather ominous silence swelled. I had never before felt so utterly scrutinized, and I couldn’t even articulate why I felt that way. But my mind was yelling at me that I was being examined like a bug under a microscope at that moment.
I dislike admitting it, but that silence defeated me. With a flash, I teleported to the other side of the Emancipation Grill, bypassing it completely before rushing through the door at the end of the hallway. I almost ran face first into the curved wall right after the door, not even processing in my panic that I had just entered the smallest room yet. It was just a cylinder a few steps wide, comprised on the grey metal that seemed to be the second favorite building material of Aperture Science, after plain white tiles.
The door slid shut behind me, trapping me inside. And then my stomach lurched, and the room began to move.