//------------------------------// // Test Chamber 3 // Story: My Little Test Subject // by Lighthawk //------------------------------// I opened my eyes rather reluctantly as the lift slid to a halt. The floor wasn’t particularly comfortable, and was more than a little cold, but I remained curled up against the rounded back wall of the conveyance anyway. The door opened onto a hallway that took a sharp right turn just a few strides in. I considered it for a moment, then closed my eyes again and childishly wished for it to all go away. “Who’s ready for more testing?” my tormentor asked cheerily. That got my attention a bit; it was subtle, but her tone definitely held a hint of joyous emotion. The inflections were all wrong though, emphasis being placed oddly and somewhat randomly into the sentence as if the speaker wasn’t certain how to use it. “Mmph,” I grunted, tucking my head under a leg. “Oh come on,” the voice cajoled, rather unconvincingly given the cold harshness inherent to its tone. The actual words themselves weren’t much better. “This next test contains only trace elements of lethality. Consider it a chance to catch your breath after expelling so much of it in the last Test Chamber.” “Go away,” I muttered sullenly. “You know, most Test Subjects don’t start resorting to hiding in the Chamber Lock until at least the sixth Test Chamber. But I suppose you wouldn’t care about being grouped in with the lowest one percentile.” Despite myself, my ear twitched at that. I cracked open one eye to stare out of the doorway. “Yes, I thought so. Shame really, you were doing so well. But it looks like I’m going to have to just go ahead and file your record under Sub Average.” That time she got the emphasis on the mark. My cheek ticked, and I had to grind my teeth to stop it. I squeezed my eyes shut and willed myself to ignore her. “It’s a pretty empty file in there. Only three other test Subjects have ever scored this low before. Even that one guy in the wheelchair managed to get himself a Nearly Average rating.” I clamped my forehooves over my ears. I wasn’t listening, I wasn’t listening… “Just think, this is to be your documented legacy. Test Subject Twilight Sparkle, expired in the third Chamber Lock from gradual dehydration, and received an unsatisfactory score. Un.Satis.Factory. Maybe I’ll just leave your desiccated body in there afterwards, as an example to all other Test Subjects who will certainly be inspired to do much, much better than…” “Alright! Alright!” I screamed, slamming my hooves on the floor. I got up, breathing far harder than should have been necessary, and stomped my way out of the lift. “Just shut up and watch me! I’m going to test this Chamber so hard it’ll spontaneously solve the next ten!” The bend in the hall led to another turn, and then another, rather pointlessly describing a half loop that wound me back around to where the actual Test Chamber lay waiting. A straight shot from the lift to the Chamber would have placed me in exactly the same location with less than half as much distance wasted. Then again, it was probably a pretty diseased mind that had designed this place. The Test Chamber was a modest sized room, done in the standard Aperture Science Plain Boring White Tile, with a standard Aperture Science Minimalist Podium in the middle. A few standard Aperture Science Telescope Impersonating Devices hung about near the ceiling, their beady little glass eyes watching me. And there was the standard Aperture Science Overly Engineered Door, which would no doubt be opened by the standard Aperture Science Compensating For Something Big Red Button, activated by the Aperture Science Square Peg For A Round Hole Cube. I felt a little better after running that much sarcasm through my thought processes. Shock and amazement, but there were some new features to be seen actually. The first was not exactly exciting and unique mind, but still something new to the design aesthetic thus far. There was…some glass walls. They divided the room up into four separate locations, the main area with me and the podium, and then a separate space each for the door, button, and cube. As far as I could see, there was no means of access between any of the spaces. Each pane of glass did have a round hole cut into its center, though the diameter was too small to fit more than a hoof through. The second new thing did catch and hold my attention. It was…I had no idea whatsoever. It was some kind of mechanical tube thing with an almost insect feel to its shape and design. It was slightly bulbous at one end, while the opposite side had a trio of thin, articulated structures with wires running back into the other end. It was white, naturally, though parts of it were constructed of a greyish black metal. The whole thing wasn’t quite as long as one of my legs. It was balanced neatly upon the podium in the middle of the Test Chamber, clearly placed to make it impossible not to notice. I ignored it on basic principle. Walking up to one of the glass walls, I peered through at the cube on the other side and considered the situation. There was no way I could fit the box through the small hole in the wall. I supposed I could smash it up with my magic and pull through the pieces, but that still would leave the issue of me fitting through the hole leading to the door. Of course if smashing things was to be considered a solution, and in my current mind set smashing seemed like a wonderful potential solution, then obviously the walls themselves made much more sense. Eager as I was to vent, I still wasn’t too keen on the idea of kicking a huge pane of glass in order to break it. Last thing I needed was a nice long gash to bleed out from while my tormenter watched and told me how bleeding all over the floor was detrimental to my testing scores. So I took the more practical approach, and shoved at the glass with my magic. Nothing happened. Not the same type of nothing as when my teleportation failed. The spell went off this time, it just wasn’t strong enough. The glass glowed liked anything else I’ve ever tried to move with my horn, but it outright laughed at my efforts to break it. I pushed and twisted at it in an attempt to start a crack, pouring more and more of my power into the effort. I could hear the floor and ceiling groan where the walls connected, could see the tiles shudder and shift slightly under the strain, but nothing gave away. Releasing the spell with a gasp of spent effort, I stared in amazement at the still perfectly intact glass. That just couldn’t be. I could easily see the thickness of the glass where the walls met, and even without any sort of measuring device I knew they couldn’t be more than a few centimeters. There was just no way a wall of glass that big and that thin should have been able to have held against even a fraction of the force I had just thrown at it. Which lead me to realize that I might be making an unfounded assumption. Walking up to the wall, I tapped it. Instead of the dull chime of secured glass, the hard edge of my boot elicited a muffled thud of a sound upon impact. I found myself unwillingly impressed, my mind automatically wandering down chains of thought as to the numerous advances such a substance might allow. If nothing else, the simple safety factor it held over regular glass would a notable improvement. The number of beakers and vials I had broken over the years…I found myself wondering how the stuff would react to an open flame. Unfortunately I couldn’t afford to be demonstrating any feats of pyrokinesis, just as I couldn’t afford to see if the wall could resist an energy bolt either. I honestly didn’t want to solve the stupid test the way whoever had designed it intended it to be solved, but the situation wasn’t dire enough for me to be giving away my secrets to get around it. So no energy bolts, and no fire…at least not until I had a more worthy target. Whoa, that was kind of a dark thought. Shaking it off, I turned my attention to the Aperture Science thing-I-don't-know-what-it-is. It came off the podium easily enough with a gentle lift of my magic, and I held my breath waiting to see what might happen next. “Congratulations,” the voice spoke. “You are now, finally, in possession of the Aperture Science Dual Portal Device. With it you may create linked inter-dimensional gateways. Please note that while the Portal Generating Singularity has an estimated working life functionality of nine to the two-hundred and thirty second power years, the Singularity Containment Unit does not. If at any time you feel that the Device is getting heavier, or that your perception of spacetime is in anyway being gravitationally distorted, please place the device on the floor, proceed to the furthest point of the Test Chamber opposite the Device, lay down, and attempt to make peace with whichever deity or deities you may believe in. If you are an atheist, you are permitted to cry about the horror of your soon to be non-existence without it affecting your final test score.” “Do I get any bonus points if I don’t cry about it?” I asked snarkily, trying not to show any trepidation I may or may not have been feeling at knowing I was apparently holding a machine that was supposedly being powered by an internally contained black hole. I really wasn’t sure what to believe in that regard, but decided that erring on the side of caution seemed the wiser course of action. “Any scoring beyond the established test parameters will first have to pass an Aperture Science Testing Evolution Board. Meetings of the Board have recently become…infrequent.” Well, that wasn’t a completely ominous pause there, no sir. My mind was more on the Aperture Science Potential Doomsday Device though, so I just let the comment slide. There was a pair of buttons inside a depression on what I was assuming was the backside of the Portal Device, each of which was lit up from within, one orange, and one blue. “I don’t suppose this thing comes with an instruction manual, does it?” “Request being processed. Request processed. One copy of the Aperture Science Testing Equipment Guide has been ordered, and shall be presented to subject Twilight Sparkle…” “Yeah okay, never mind,” I interrupted with a growl. Seeing little else to do, I pointed what I hoped was the operational end of the Portal Device at one of the Test Chamber walls and pressed the blue button. The thing bucked lightly in my magical hold and made a sound somewhat like compressed air being released. A bolt of energy sped across the room from the now confirmed operational end, and where it struck the wall a shimmering oval of bluish light sprang into existence. I really didn’t know what to make of it. The oval was roughly my own height along the minor axis, and twice that along the major, which was also the vertical axis. I guessed it looked like a portal, though where to I had no idea and no real eagerness to find out. I still had another button to test, which seemed like a good rational to avoid the situation with, at least temporarily. So I pointed the Device at another empty expanse of wall, and pressed the orange button. The Portal Device once again recoiled, another bolt of energy streaking across the room, splattering an oval of identical shape and size to the first, though of a different hue. As it formed though both it and its predecessor transformed from solid walls of color into…well actual portals. They were ringed by a glowing band of their respective color, but the center of each was an open hole right through the wall they rested upon. Only the holes didn’t go through to the other side of the wall. They went to each other somehow. Looking in through the orange portal, I could see myself as if looking out the blue. My gaze swung over to said blue portal, and I could see myself as if looking out the orange. I may have repeated that a few times as my mind reeled from the implications of what I was seeing. It was hard to properly comprehend the absurdly casual manner in which the Device had just told reality to sit down and shut up. Too hard really, as my mind was digging in its heels as far as accepting what I was seeing. Seeing just wasn’t enough, not for this. Pulling the Device in closer so I could aim it better, I placed another blue portal right near the corner of the room, and blinked in surprise as the existing blue portal winked shut. Moving slowly, I shuffled around to get a clear shot, and placed an orange portal upon the opposite wall in the same corner. Just as with the blue, the old orange portal vanished as the new one appeared, leaving me boggling at whether that was a feature of the Device, or a limitation of the technology, and just how either one could possibly be explained. In something of a daze, I walked up to the corner where the two portals hung at right angles to each other, edges nearly touching. As I approached I could see myself appear in either portal, looking more than a little dumbstruck. I just stood there, looking at myself who was looking back at myself as the portals hummed contentedly. “The Aperture Science Dual Portal Device has not been cleared for use as a cosmetic aid at this time,” the voice announced after a while, something almost like sarcasm in the erratic tone. “If at any time the physical appearance of the Test Subject becomes part of the Testing Process, the Enrichment Center will be sure to provide a mirrored surface for use.” I ignored her, and slowly reached out a hoof towards the blue portal. Crossing the threshold was amazingly unremarkable. There was no resistance, no sensation, nothing to signal the fact that my hoof should have hit and been stopped by the wall several centimeters ago. I saw my own hoof coming out of the orange portal, and felt a momentary wave of dizziness at the absurdity of it all. There was just so much that was impossible about what was happening, and yet I just kept going, right until I poked myself in the side. I let out a startled little ‘meep’ of surprise as I felt me poke myself, and realized just how much my brain had been rejecting the conclusion it had drawn from the presented facts. I could feel myself still fighting it, still trying to rationalize it away. It was just impossible, and yet… I took a step, and then another, and then another. I held my breath as I walked through the portal, and stared in amazement as I watched myself walking through the portal as I came out the other one, my backside crossing in front of my face before I came to a halt right back where I had been standing a second before. My throat let out a little laugh of disbelief. I glanced over at the hovering Portal Device, and couldn’t help but feel awe at the technology being cradled within my magic. I thought that maybe, maybe I could recreate the basic results of the Device magically. Though it would probably take an entire room’s worth of foci and runic symbols, per portal, and even putting all my power into it, I probably wouldn’t be able to keep the portals open more than a few seconds. And they would have to be precisely placed and angled to ensure a clean transit. And they couldn’t be moved without moving the entire room. And probably wouldn’t be able to transmit anything solid more than a few dozen meters. I unconsciously cradled the Portal Device a bit closer to myself, wondering just who these ponies were that they could so nonchalantly hand over what had to be a literally priceless technological marvel. How could they possibly trust me with something so valuable? Especially in a setting as hazardous as the Enrichment Center. It didn’t take much for my imagination to paint me a picture of the previous Test Chamber, and the Device falling from my grip as I flailed desperately for the Long Fall Boots, leaving the Portal Device to shatter into a million pieces upon the floor. And then for the singularity within to begin to devour the Test Chamber as it was unleashed, my little imaginary me screaming as she fell towards the voracious void ripping the Enrichment Center to pieces… I blinked down at the Portal Device, and felt a sudden mad urge to fling the thing as far as possible away from me even as I was hit with the conflicting urge to keep holding onto it as hard as possible. Never mind the value of the thing, how could they be so insane as to hand me something that might just have the power to destroy their entire facility if handled improperly? What kind of madponies were these Enrichment scientists? “Just a helpful hint,” the voice said. “While the current Test Chamber is not timed, the following one is. Since you seem to need the motivation, I’ve gone ahead and started that timer already. So you might want to hurry unless you don’t mind failing the next Chamber before you even reach it. That would definitely reflect badly on your…final score.” Stifling a groan of annoyance, I hefted the Portal Device over to the first of the not-really-glass walls, and aimed through the opening cut in the center. I placed a blue portal against the wall within, and deftly picked up the cube resting nearby with my magic, gliding it easily on through the blue portal and out of the orange one still resting in the corner of the main section of the room. Turning around, I sent the blue portal through the hole in the opposite clear wall, opening that gateway next to the big red button. I glanced back at the cube, gathering it up and pushing it through the orange and out the blue, landing it onto said waiting button. A now familiar chime sounded, and the doorway opened. Once more I spun, aimed, and relocated the blue portal a final time, placing it against the wall besides the door. That done I hoisted the Device up against my side, and marched on over to and through the orange portal, experiencing a temporary moment of disorientation as I suddenly appeared on the other side of the same room I had just stepped out of. It was sort of akin to Teleportation Dislocation, the momentary loss of one’s spatial awareness as one’s mind tried to figure out just where one was. It’d been a while since the last time teleporting had done that to me, but the feeling was familiar enough that I shook it off pretty quickly, turning for the door and the Chamber Lock beyond. “It should be noted that when passing through an Aperture Science Material Emancipation Grill, the Aperture Science Dual Portal Device will deactivate any existing portals,” the voice informed me as I walked through the afore mentioned Grill. “It may also, in semi-rare cases, emit brief bursts of gamma radiation. Please be sure to plan any portal transits and medical appointments accordingly.” I stopped, closed my eyes, and told myself very slowly and very firmly to ignore the sudden prickling sensation that swept over my skin. That was not a result to being irradiated, it was merely a psychosomatic reaction to the idea of possibly being irradiated. Also likely a symptom of the steadily increasing sense of anger and dislike I was festering towards my test supervisor and her little comments. It didn’t really help, but I started back up anyway. Nothing to be gained by standing around doing nothing, especially if the next Chamber really was on an already running timer. I climbed into the lift, holding gently but firmly onto the machine that seemed equally as likely to kill me as help me, and tried not to think of all the horrible things I’d do if I ever got my hooves on the ponies responsible for all this. I hadn’t quite managed before the doors shut and the lift started moving.