[It’s time for another Monthly Musing — the monthly community blog theme that provides readers with a chance to get their articles and discussions printed on the frontpage. — CTZ]
I found myself on a rail car nearly deserted except for two downcast strangers. I had no idea where I’d been, how I’d gotten there or at the moment where I was going, but somehow knew this was all supposed to make sense to me. The feeling was more strange than deja-vu. I shivered trying to think what might have happened before now, the only suggestions were of a lingering memory felt so alien and strange that I purged the thought and pressed on. Looking through the windows I could see that we were approaching a station with other trains already docked. I moved closer to the men both wearing identical blue jumpsuits, neither looking too happy about where we were going. One of the men said something to me as I approached the exit, but it was completely swallowed up by my other senses as I stepped out those doors and beheld my destination. City 17. This is the recollection of a gamer’s first experiences with the Half-Life universe upon first playing Half-Life 2.
A bright flash blinded me as a nearby hovering camera clicked a picture of my face without my consent. I already felt like I was rudely greeted, however the cheerful face of an elderly man tried to convince me otherwise with his brightly recorded speech continuously played over a giant flat TV panel that would be impossible to miss for any new citizens coming into the city. Doctor Breen, he called himself, appearing on behalf of the ‘benefactors‘. As ominous as you can possibly get. I could tell he was trying his best to ease people’s minds, but the way he said it was ‘safer’ only made me feel worse about what I’d find here.
As I made my way through the station, I saw that most people wore the same blue jumpsuit and shell-shocked expression that indicated that this wasn’t a happy place I’d stumbled into, no I knew totalitarianism when I smelled it. Those that didn’t wear the jumpsuit were the enforcers or ‘civil protection’ as I would later come to know them. Those guys disarmed my senses with fear. I don’t know if it was because they didn’t act or sound human underneath their full body armor and masks, that they forcefully made everyone conform to their rules, that there was nothing I could do against them, or the combined effect of all these things, but … I didn’t want to cross them if I could help it.
Hesitantly, I made my way up to the processing station that blocked any further progress. I was nervous that for some reason I wouldn’t pass their little inspection, but didn’t even know what it was they were looking for or how to avoid their trap. So like the other new citizens of City 17, I gave up my hope and humanity and became a cog in their machine, waiting to be processed. I didn’t even realize that I was rerouted away from the exit to the station lobby and towards the train riding to the prison Nova Prospekt. In fact I was more scared than shocked when the gates suddenly shut on me and the guards stared yelling at me to come with them into one of their rooms for further examination. Everything else seemed to indicate that there was nothing I could do to resist them, so I again complied.
Hearing the conversations in the other rooms blotted out any hope for getting out of this situation with my humanity intact, and seeing the contents of the room I was led into made me think some of my teeth might be lost in the process as well, so I was more than happy to find that the solitary guard who had accompanied me believed himself to be my friend. Taking off his mask to show his face revealed that he was human and in fact, seemed to be on my side. As if a switch had been flipped, my future appeared to have been saved and I relaxed somewhat. He began having a conversation with a man on the screen of what looked like a complex and alien computer station. It became apparent that these people were a sort of resistance to the oppressors just outside our room, and I felt a thrill knowing that humans had been able to infiltrate so deeply into their system.
I was given my marching orders right as the other guards became suspicious: Reach the Dr. Kleiner’s Lab, the man on the other side of the screen. I wasn’t given any other information or any other tools to navigate my way there, so I would have to get lucky I supposed. Going through the back room’s window, I managed to make my way back into the station without anyone realizing something was up. Eventually I wound up in another large room that displayed Dr. Breen’s visage on a screen for all to see. This time he revealed the extent to which people were being controlled. Breen and the “combine” had undone people’s ability to procreate and have children. What kind of bizarre and frightening power must he wield to do such a thing? His reasoning’s for such an act were intelligent and thoughtful, yet held no hint of remorse or compassion for what the people must have had to endure to live with such a change. His idealistic civilization was one devoid of such primitive things as emotion and ‘instinct’.
After dealing with the whims of the Civil Protection guards, I was granted access to the outside, and better understood the world I found myself in. Although there were the common shops and buildings you would expect to find in a regular city, there was almost no one on the streets. Guards were just as numerous in the City Square where the station opened up to as inside the building, but were also accompanied by armored cars and walls blocked regular street access. They replaced regular door locks with their own strange version that seemed to only allow people that belonged in their proper buildings. Mounted on top of the square’s obelisk was another large TV screen displaying Breen’s previous speech, and finally I noticed that in the background was a massive tower that stretched above the cloud line, looking like it had no business being among the other humble apartments and shops of the city. The facts all seemed to point back to the fact that that there had been an invasion, pure and simple.
Whenever I asked someone for help, the citizens refused to even look directly at me and whispered that they were unable to do anything for me. I never felt more like a stranger in a strange land at that time, unable to even reach out to other people for a connection. Many examples of the CP’s brutal enforcement of their policies were on display while wandering through the city, and they blocked any kind of conventional exit I could find. After using a fire escape to jump a fence, I was able to find an unguarded apartment building to enter. Now, I was able to see the fruition of Breens’ promises of a better, safer life in the lives of these apartment dwellers. Littered hallways, broken down doors, boarded up windows, peeled off paint and mildew; these were glorified prisons that you had only slightly more say so for when you could leave. Disrepaired, unadorned, solemn, bleak, littered and dirty.
Most seemed to be used to their living arrangements, as if they had been dealing with it for a long time, though it was obvious that it effected the spirits of some worse than others. Before I could get used to finding myself in these new surroundings, a city wide announcement informed us that this building had undergone a miscount and was going into a lockdown. I already knew they meant me and so I hurried to the exit, only to find that the guards were infiltrating from downstairs and so I looked for a possible rooftop access as my only hope of escape. The inhabitants did what they could to try and slow down the Civil Protection units from catching me, and I was silently thankful. With their help, I was able to make it up to the attic of the building, which conveniently had a broken wall for me to escape through.
The brick chimneys and rooftops of surrounding buildings clamored for supremacy like treetops in a jungle. Shooting broke out as soon as I made it onto the open roof of the neighboring building. The flutter of helicopters filled my ears, and once again I was blinded by those malicious hovering robots who gave away my position at every moment. I faced the task of balancing adrenaline and fear in my hurried escape, one imprecise step in the wrong direction and it would be game over. Luckily I found several helpfully placed boards that aided in deciding my path for me, as if this was not the first time someone had attempted to escape through this route. I could only hope that they were successful.
I moved briskly along until I was forced to continue by sidling along a ledge that dropped down to the street below. I took my time, letting caution get the best of me, until I saw more CP vehicles pull up, and a new volley of shots nearly hit me. After that it was a miracle that I did not fall down from my newfound recklessness. The path became less and less clear to me. I myself more erratic and desperate to end the chase, when suddenly my vision flashed red from being hit by a bullet. Somehow, I shrugged off the damage and continued on, unaware of how badly I might be injured. I held on to the hope that if I could make it to Dr. Kleiners’ lab I would be okay.
With nowhere else to go, I hopped inside the window of a close by building. Trying the only door inside, I realized it was locked. Quickly, I looked around the room for other options. I spotted some steps leading down deeper into the building. It was my only chance. I sped down them without giving another thought. At the bottom was a hallway book ended at each end by doors. I went right, only to see the CP burst through before I reached it. Doing a 180, I saw the other door broken down by the guards as well. Trapped, but maybe I could reach the stairs again; my mind was fully committed to playing the part of a caged animal. They brought out their stun batons and now my vision flashed white. I was vaguely aware that my body had fallen. A voice cried out through my blindness. Crashes and thuds followed. My vision returned and I was greeted by an attractive young woman. “Dr. Freeman I presume?”
