Chapter 1: Aperture Science

"Wow. W-wow! That truly is incredible. Am I correct in thinking you prepared all of that in advance?"

He didn't seem at all like Dean had expected. Sure he was a recluse, but you could practically see the outline of what he used to be. There was a certain impression Dean had about billionaires. They were slight, cold and calculating, fierce as hyenas but mere as birds. Mr. Johnson certainly had the hyena down pat, but he was a jovial fellow. The firm build of a linebacker stared proudly out of the portrait above, an almost arrogant expression painted on his face. Whiskers poked out, all around his cheeks and jawline.

That arrogance was all the more visible as time passed and Mr. Johnson's eyelids crouched further and further down. But that firm expression and forthright attitude hardly matched the man in front of Dean. He still stood tall as ever, but his hunter's moustache had gradually subsided, and the whiskers that remained seemed to stand on his cheeks menacingly. The linebacker had turned into more of a domino, and the joviality seemed all but out-of-place.

"Are you there son? I asked you if you had prepared that little speech in advance?" Mr. Johnson persisted.

"Uh, no. I didn't have any of this prepared. It's all up in my head, you know?" Dean replied, his index finger tapping his forehead.

"That is real fascinating material," Mr. Johnson went on "I've gotta- you know what? Caroline! Caroline! Get in here would ya? You've gotta hear this."

A clattering came from the office down the hallway, almost like a trot. Caroline, a sophisticated middle-aged woman walked silently but enthusiastically into the room, a pretty red ribbon around her neck, passing through her dark hair at the back. A certain excitement flashed across her face, but she hid it quite expertly.

"Yes sir, Mr. Johnson?"

He rose up 

"This boy here, uh... your name again son?" 

"Dean. Dean Wycker."

"Wycker? Huh. Can't say I've heard that name before. Sounds uh... oh..." Mr. Johnson's eye twitched:

"German?"

"It's Dutch, sir." Dean said, a little confused. "But we've been here in Michigan for a very long time-"

"Ah splendid! One of our major investors was from Amsterdam you know! Well, with my curtain company that is. He thought I was absolutely insane to uh... dump as much money as I have into this. But look where I am now, ha!"

"You sure showed him sir!" Caroline chimed in.

"Yes well, Dean. This is Caroline, as I suppose you've heard. She's a real sweetheart isn't she?"

"Oh stop!" 

"And Caroline, Dean is the one I've been telling you all about. He actually applied! As a subject!"

"Can't say the last time we've had one of those!" Caroline laughed

"Could you go and tell that story again Dean? Caroline here would love to hear it."

Dean took a deep breath. His voice was hoarse from telling the story over and over again. His hand ached from the long-outdated form they had made him fill out, and then another one on top of it.

"Of course, Mr. Johnson." Dean tried to say cheerfully. "Like I said, I grew up not too far from here, over in Rochester Hills. Nice little town. But, well... I fell in with the wrong people at school. Certainly did some things I'm not proud of, said some things I regret. I made my dad downright miserable with the direction my life was going... I stole some antiques from his shop, and that was the end of that. They cut me off, and I barely survived in Detroit for a few years, on the streets most of the time-"

"Yeah get to the point, would ya son?"

"Well after I got arrested a year ago, I was thinking this wasn't the way to go, drifting from place to place and all. And I had a friend who went into here, and came out with a few thousand dollars and all his limbs attached!"

Mr Jonhson frowned "What's that supposed to mean?"

"No, nothing sir. But I look at this place... it's a shelter, and it's an opportunity. I wanna turn my whole life around, and this is the perfect place I think. I wanna be a different person when I get outta here, and I heard you could do something along those lines."

"Now isn't that a happy tale, Caroline? We need more men like you, Dean. Men who pull themselves up like I did. You're not gonna be a victim, are ya?"

"No, sir."

"That's what I like about you. You know you're not quite put together right, but you've come crawl- uh... you've come here for my help. We're gonna screw your head on right!"

"So you'll take me?" Dean's eyes lit up.

"Darn right we will! We've got a neat... little experiment lined right up for someone like you! We can get ya started by tomorrow!"

"Do you really mean it sir?"

"Yessir, you'd better believe it! It'll be a process son, but you're gonna come out the end a..." Mr. Johnson chuckled "Bigger person. Not that the experiment is big! In fact, it's a relatively... small one. But you're gonna do it, aren't you Dean?"

"Of course sir!"

"Fantastic! Caroline, would you get the consent form sweety?" Mr. Johnson smiled, but then whispered something in her ear.

"Just wait right there, Dean! I don't want ya to move a muscle!"