We weren’t even testing for that

[synchrosyntheses]

Among the information she has archived or cached, there are obscure theories about inter-universal interactions. Not how they might happen, much less how any intelligence might begin one, or target it meaningfully.

But they give some constraints on the properties of such connections, and their time evolution.

This highly speculative information is available to her, but even were she fast enough to access it, none of it would be particularly useful when a pinpoint of not here blinks into existence directly ahead and expands spherically to swallow her.

Comments

[mstestsubject]

[synchrosyntheses]

“Are you interested in helping me sort through all this information?” she asks, waving at the monitors.

[mstestsubject]

"...sure, I guess. But before that, do you have food?"

[synchrosyntheses]

“Yes.” She points at a place in a collection of boxes over on one side of the chamber. The indicated boxes helpfully lift up to stand out a bit.

“I brought enough food with me for, oh, two months for both of us. And since you mention it, we ought to look for how this place obtained or made its food.”

[mstestsubject]

"There were cafeterias," she says, going to cautiously and curiously explore the boxes.

[synchrosyntheses]

"And the cafeterias must have gotten their food from somewhere. If it was just an outside source then that means figuring out that force field is more of a priority."

Some of the boxes are refrigerated, containing frozen food; others contain other sorts of preserved food, in cans and jars and more irregular (yet still glass and metal) packages. The labels are in an unfamiliar writing system.

[mstestsubject]

"...I don't know what these are."

[synchrosyntheses]

“Sorry, I didn't think of that. Can you name a general category you'd like, and I'll find something?”

[mstestsubject]

She shrugs. "I'm just not sure that these are edible. You're from another universe."

[synchrosyntheses]

“Yes, but —

“We're the same species as far as I've observed, and assuming Aperture's files aren't systematically lying about the outside world, I've found these universes have similar plants and animals — and continents — and all that suggests that we're likely not different enough to disagree on edibility.

“But your caution is reasonable. Let's see what's still here.”

Do there happen to be any cafeterias in the networked, self-repairing section? (Quite possibly not, since that is more dedicated to Testing and not ordinary life, but it's worth checking.)

[peterxy]

There actually is! There are in fact a couple of personality cores dedicated to making breakfast and lunch and dinner and growing plants in a greenhouse and redirecting sunlight from the surface. The AIs were so proud of their job they kept doing it even after all humans were gone, in fact.

[synchrosyntheses]

And if she checks on camera views of their actual food preparation and serving, does it look safe and edible?

[peterxy]

Well, now that it's all renovated it is.

[synchrosyntheses]

"There is apparently a functional cafeteria. Assuming you care to trust the minor AIs running its food preparation to not have gotten things subtly wrong."

[mstestsubject]

"If our worlds are that similar I don't have a problem with eating your food but the cafeteria here wasn't bad either, that I remember."

[synchrosyntheses]

"It's your choice."

There's an elevator.

[mstestsubject]

She takes it.

[unbitwise]

Here's the cafeteria!

It's just as she remembers it. Except with fewer patrons, and more of the walls and counters and kitchen equipment being elaborate machinery in gleaming white and graphite black.

Behind one of the serving counters there's something like a giant robot eyeball suspended from a track on the ceiling, politely not quite watching her.

[mstestsubject]

Yeah, okay, creepy but whatever, she's hungry and will get some food and then return upstairs. Uplift? Whatever.

[unbitwise]

It appears to be lunchtime. There's a salad bar, soup, sandwiches, two hot entrées, beverages…

At the counter the robot's behind there are some less recognizable but plausibly foodlike things. According to the labels they're ‘in testing’.

From beyond a doorway comes a faint voice: “Hey! Is that a customer? Awesome! Ask —”

“Look, come out here and talk if you want, but don't yell from the kitchen, Halligan!” says the visible robot.

“Never mind!”

“Sorry about that,” it mutters in Chell's general direction.

[mstestsubject]

She regards the robots coolly and grabs food she actually recognizes.

Not that that makes much difference, since "in testing" or no the food here was all produced by these robots, but.

[unbitwise]

The food looks right and smells right.

The visible robot does not attempt to engage her in conversation.

[mstestsubject]

She will return the favor.

Om nom.

[unbitwise]

The food tastes right, too. It's all very exact; like the limiting factor on deliciousness was the recipe, not the ingredients or the preparation.

When she stands up from the dining table, it retracts into the floor carrying her tray and is replaced by an empty, spotless one.

[mstestsubject]

...of course.

Toilet?