[Topher drums his fingers on his arm and bites the inside of his cheek, lost somewhere in thought. Well, there's... no way of really responding to that without greatly implying that he does have reason to believe that GLaDOS was right, even if he'd rather stubbornly pitch himself off a bridge than actually admit that for multiple reasons.
But Wheatley won't admit it and Topher has an idea of what he'd be looking for anyway, because it wouldn't really be that hard to track down. Besides, he has suspicions about Aperture and that makes it easier. You absolutely can't make a robot like Wheatley without drawing from a human brain in some way. Maybe it was an imprint they recoded and retooled until it stopped working like a human brain should or maybe they had other means, but Cave made a friggin' brain-transferring machine with scraps and that speaks volumes to the kind of work they did.
So if anyone knew how to fix him, he was the best bet. Any other programmer wouldn't know the first thing about a human brain and when it went on the wedge, it would be human until he painstakingly removed everything a robot wouldn't need. Something about that thrilled him, both because of a challenge and because someone needed him and only him. He could fix this. He could.
And Topher never saw four feet in front of his face, anyway, so all the ways this could go wrong never occur to him.]
I can fix it. It'll take some doing, but I can do it- no problem. [In some ways, he's sort of glad Wheatley won't admit the truth, because it means he's spared the irritated feelings-driven rant about how if Aperture was really going to program something to be stupid, they could have at least reprogrammed him when he stopped being useful as... what he was. The idea is sort of sickening to think about when he's come to think of Wheatley as a person, but it's not like Wheatley isn't asking him for exactly that.]
Just leave it to me. By the time we get you back in your body again, you'll be... functioning perfectly.
no subject
But Wheatley won't admit it and Topher has an idea of what he'd be looking for anyway, because it wouldn't really be that hard to track down. Besides, he has suspicions about Aperture and that makes it easier. You absolutely can't make a robot like Wheatley without drawing from a human brain in some way. Maybe it was an imprint they recoded and retooled until it stopped working like a human brain should or maybe they had other means, but Cave made a friggin' brain-transferring machine with scraps and that speaks volumes to the kind of work they did.
So if anyone knew how to fix him, he was the best bet. Any other programmer wouldn't know the first thing about a human brain and when it went on the wedge, it would be human until he painstakingly removed everything a robot wouldn't need. Something about that thrilled him, both because of a challenge and because someone needed him and only him. He could fix this. He could.
And Topher never saw four feet in front of his face, anyway, so all the ways this could go wrong never occur to him.]
I can fix it. It'll take some doing, but I can do it- no problem. [In some ways, he's sort of glad Wheatley won't admit the truth, because it means he's spared the irritated feelings-driven rant about how if Aperture was really going to program something to be stupid, they could have at least reprogrammed him when he stopped being useful as... what he was. The idea is sort of sickening to think about when he's come to think of Wheatley as a person, but it's not like Wheatley isn't asking him for exactly that.]
Just leave it to me. By the time we get you back in your body again, you'll be... functioning perfectly.
[WORST.
CHOICE
OF WORDS.]