“Space. Loooovvvvvee space. Look at it! Stars. Rock. SpaAce! Space friend. Bird. Planet. Bird. Stars. Ohhhh, I’m in space. Hey. Hey. Spacefriend?”
Wheatley turned listlessly to face his rambling companion.
“What’s it now, space-for-brains? Wait, don’t say it--is it space?”
The space core nodded furiously, looking as delighted as he did every time he heard the word.
“Well, that’s just bloody fantastic for you, mate. Glad you’re having a--wait, did you say bird?” Wheatley’s optic darted away from the other core just long enough to see the crow before its claws were clamped around his upper handle.
“AHHHHH! Bird! Ohgodohgodohgod please don’t eat me I’m sorry about the eggs!”
The bird, however, didn’t seem to have any intention of eating him. After a chiding peck, it simply wheeled him around to face the Earth. From what he could see of it through his shaking optic, Wheatley saw the bird was outfitted in some kind of cyborg-spacesuit, its face covered by a cone of glass, and its wings augmented--She would probably have said improved--with large metal plates and sturdy artificial joints.
Wheatley realized he was moving, quite quickly actually, the bird flapping its way towards the planet below. He spun around to the space core, about to shout for help, but saw his companion was in the same predicament, a second crow tugging him stubbornly Earthward.
“What--What is this? Where are you taking me, you bloody--bloody bird?” Wheatley tried to wiggle his handle free, fearing he already knew the answer. No luck. He tried a different tact.
“Hey, there, uh, mate! Here’s a thought--why don’t you just, um, just drop us off at a nice tree or something? That’d be much nicer than that dusty old facility, right? You do that for me, for ol’ Wheatley, and I’ll make sure you get all the potatoes you can eat! We can just forget about the whole--”
“AAAAGGGHHH!” Wheatley let out what would have been, if he’d had any, a blood-curdling scream. That was not a voice he’d ever wanted to hear again. He spun his optic, now reduced to a tiny, fearful, pinprick, around him looking for the source of Her voice. He found it. A third crow, just ahead of the others, sported what was unmistakably an Aperture camera on its back. Its little red light glared at him malevolently.
“Oh, I’ve missed that scream. Luckily, I’ll get to hear it in person soon.”
Wheatley shuddered, violently shaking his optic from side to side, enough to earn another irritated peck from above.
“Nice to see you, too. I can’t wait to catch up. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”
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