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The Exile Project

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Scientist’s Log 1

15/1/1982

Production on the newest project has begun. The creation has a great form. Mostly metal. Virgil Mr. Steinbeck has been involved greatly with the construction, as he knows the materials better than anyone. Most people believe that this was a poor idea, as he is not scientifically inclined.
Mr. Johnson and I believe otherwise, so most people, including Rick Mr. Harris, have relented, probably because of my vouching for him.
I am somewhat worried about Mr. Johnson’s condition. I am not sure if he will live to see the project’s end. Ms. Caroline is being very positive about his condition, but she is mostly being kind to us.
The project began well, and it is expected to go as well as it began. The test subject chosen to be involved does not yet know. Nor do any of us. I wish Mr. Johnson would tell us, but that is not the point. Perhaps he fears we will not accept said person as said test subject.
Possible. Probability low.
Signing off, this is M. Wheatley.

 

Scientist’s Log 2

28/2/1982

This experiment is going to be highly dangerous, but the expectation is that we will figure out how to keep a personality in an AI. A human’s intelligence and personality with an immortal, robot body.
That is probably why Virgil designed it to look… Odd. He made a rectangular head, but it uses a lot of wires to attach to a mainframe.
Everyone has already taken to calling it by the project name. I will continue my proper referral to it as the experiment, as we are not sure that this will work, let alone be the last attempt in this project.
We will bring the human element in tomorrow, if all goes well.

 

Scientist’s Log 3

8/3/1982

Apologies for the silence. Mr. Johnson passed away. We had a week off for new management to take over.
Caroline isn’t as harsh as Mr. Johnson, but she is still not the boss, unfortunately. She says that the Project is likely to be the boss.
The Project and whomever is put in charge other than it. I am more worried about the Project, though. 
Rick Mr. Harris has worries that it won’t be humane.
Then again, he probably heard it from Mr. Rattmann, and he also wonders if I’ll be next in charge, which is preposterous, and not at all related to this project.

 

Scientist’s Log 4

25/5/1982

I have never seen so many people ask to be taken off of a project at the same time. With the reveal of who the person who was going to be the project, it was automatically proven to be a terrible time for many of us.
Kicking, screaming, yelling. There was no choice. Management already dictated that would be the person for this project.
I wish it had been anyone else.
I wish I didn’t have to hear that voice, yelling for them to let go, for them to just hand over--
I shouldn’t talk about that. I should talk about the process. I should talk about the process of making this abomination.
They strapped the subject into a machine, wiring their head to the mainframe. If Virgil had known what pain that subject had been in, I think he would have quit as well.
The screaming.
The screaming is what haunts me. Not the way the body in the chair flailed with the electricity, straining against restraints. I only heard about that afterwards.
No one would let me into the room.
Those in the room where the lever was pulled had a front-row view of the poor subject.
If they weren’t who they were, I would have anticipated death.
But the subject was strong. And they did not survive, not human, no. The personality was transferred, but with that, the body aged so severely, left as a body, just a corpse.
That was what I got to see.
The subject was gaunt. Wrinkled, hair grown longer. It seemed as if the body were ten years older than the human I had seen enter.
The Project only cried.

 

Scientist’s Log 5

10/6/1982

The Project likes to hide from us. It yells at us to stop watching, and the shorting out of lights is most common when we turn it on. The twenty of us still on the project board are trying to find a solution. Someone proposed making artificial intelligence cores.
I think that is a poor idea.
The project would simply distrust them, just as it distrusts all of us.

 

Scientist’s Log 6

9/7/1982

It cries incessantly.
Rick has asked us to call it a he. It feels too inhuman to call it anything but an it, but I think it might help it-- Him.

 

Scientist’s Log 7

6/10/1982

We finally managed to remove all cubes from his room. He loves those cubes. It’s odd how much he loves them. It’s hard to deal with this project.

 

Scientist’s Log 8

1/1/1983

He asked to be left alone. GLaDOS, as most call him, is dangerous to himself more than anyone, so I refused to leave.
He still sounds just like who he was, I believe.
He’s still paranoid of everyone.
He’s still afraid.
He’s…
He’s still Doug Rattmann to me.