The Funeral
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ELI MOSES VANCE
1968-2021
There should, thinks Alyx, be more than this. Her father was the reason the Resistance existed, the reason they were allied with the Vortigaunts--arguably, he was the reason the human race still exists as anything but mechanized slaves to the Combine. He deserves a better sendoff than this. Hell, he deserves a fucking shrine dedicated to his memory. Instead, he gets a plywood box, a shallow grave, and a metal plaque bolted to an old slab of concrete. It's luxury, by their world's standards, but it still doesn't feel like enough. Maybe nothing ever could feel like enough.
There was a public wake, of sorts, earlier in the day for anyone who wished to view the body and pay their last respects. Oddly enough, none of the Vorts on-site took in the viewing; when Alyx asked about it, Uriah simply said that Vortigaunts had their own rituals for the dead and that it would be "inappropriate" to combine the two. Now, there are a mere half-dozen of Eli Vance's closest friends clustered around the grave to say their final goodbyes.
Gordon had offered to say a few words. Maybe not a whole eulogy, but at least something. But this is Gordon; she's not at all surprised to see him step forward and go silent, whatever speech he'd prepared failing in the face of her father's grave. He swallows a few times, the words not coming. When they finally do, all he can manage is a quiet, "You sent me to get help back at Black Mesa. I'm sorry it took so long."
Barney, on the other hand, is a little more prepared. "I remember my first day on the job at Black Mesa, clear as day," he says, "even though now it seems like it was a whole other lifetime ago. Here I was, in this giant facility full of America's brightest minds, and my job mostly involved punching some buttons and eating donuts. For the bettering of mankind, of course. --Anyway, I was getting a tour of the place when we crossed the Science team coming out of an elevator. One came up to me, shook my hand, and said 'Welcome to the team. We're glad to have you.' Everyone was a little stunned, myself included, but I managed to thank him and shake back. That wasn't the last time I saw him; eventually, he introduced himself as Dr. Eli Vance. We'd talk about the weather, about sports; he was my first friend there, and that friendship lasted through disaster and danger both. Even after starting the Resistance, with everything we'd been through, Eli was about people. Helping people, getting to know people--and I know that's the way he'd like to be remembered. As a people person."
Dr. Magnusson is present, but says nothing. Not that he doesn't want to speak, but he was outvoted on that, five to one.
Somewhat surprisingly, it's Dr. Kleiner who manages the most eloquence of anyone here. He shuffles forward and clears his throat, squinting down at a bit of paper he's scribbled on. "Eli Vance," he says, "need not be idealized or enlarged in death beyond what he was in life, to be remembered as a good and decent man, who saw wrong and tried to right it, saw suffering and tried to heal it, saw destruction and tried to stop it. Those of us who loved him and who take him to his rest today, pray that what he was to us and what he wished for others will some day come to pass for all the world."
Finally, Judith steps forward. "I haven't known Eli for as long as the rest of you," she begins. "I knew of him, his reputation as a scientist and as a leader. I had thought he couldn't possibly be everything the rumors had made him out to be. But then, a little less than three years ago, I met him for myself, and found out... he was everything his reputation had made him out to be, and more." There's a little catch in her voice; she swallows and blinks away tears. "I feel privileged to have known him. That's all I have to say."
Alyx herself remains silent throughout the whole ceremony. She doesn't trust herself to keep her composure if she tries to speak. After the coffin is covered over and the attendants start the slow march back into the base, she lingers behind, staring silently at the concrete tombstone.
Gordon's gentle hand on her shoulder rouses her to life. She looks back at him. His expression is one of earnest concern, saying I'm here for you without him needing to speak a word. "I need a minute alone," Alyx murmurs, barely audible. He nods and turns to walk away.
It takes her more than a minute. It feels like hours, or even days. She reads the two lines on the tombstone over and over, without really knowing why. Is she hoping to glean some deeper meaning there? Some hint that it's all not true? Some sense of closure that will let her be at peace with all this?
She doesn't know. She can barely even think. She just stares, wishing to God that she knew what to say.
ELI MOSES VANCE
1968-2021
There should, thinks Alyx, be more than this. Her father was the reason the Resistance existed, the reason they were allied with the Vortigaunts--arguably, he was the reason the human race still exists as anything but mechanized slaves to the Combine. He deserves a better sendoff than this. Hell, he deserves a fucking shrine dedicated to his memory. Instead, he gets a plywood box, a shallow grave, and a metal plaque bolted to an old slab of concrete. It's luxury, by their world's standards, but it still doesn't feel like enough. Maybe nothing ever could feel like enough.
There was a public wake, of sorts, earlier in the day for anyone who wished to view the body and pay their last respects. Oddly enough, none of the Vorts on-site took in the viewing; when Alyx asked about it, Uriah simply said that Vortigaunts had their own rituals for the dead and that it would be "inappropriate" to combine the two. Now, there are a mere half-dozen of Eli Vance's closest friends clustered around the grave to say their final goodbyes.
Gordon had offered to say a few words. Maybe not a whole eulogy, but at least something. But this is Gordon; she's not at all surprised to see him step forward and go silent, whatever speech he'd prepared failing in the face of her father's grave. He swallows a few times, the words not coming. When they finally do, all he can manage is a quiet, "You sent me to get help back at Black Mesa. I'm sorry it took so long."
Barney, on the other hand, is a little more prepared. "I remember my first day on the job at Black Mesa, clear as day," he says, "even though now it seems like it was a whole other lifetime ago. Here I was, in this giant facility full of America's brightest minds, and my job mostly involved punching some buttons and eating donuts. For the bettering of mankind, of course. --Anyway, I was getting a tour of the place when we crossed the Science team coming out of an elevator. One came up to me, shook my hand, and said 'Welcome to the team. We're glad to have you.' Everyone was a little stunned, myself included, but I managed to thank him and shake back. That wasn't the last time I saw him; eventually, he introduced himself as Dr. Eli Vance. We'd talk about the weather, about sports; he was my first friend there, and that friendship lasted through disaster and danger both. Even after starting the Resistance, with everything we'd been through, Eli was about people. Helping people, getting to know people--and I know that's the way he'd like to be remembered. As a people person."
Dr. Magnusson is present, but says nothing. Not that he doesn't want to speak, but he was outvoted on that, five to one.
Somewhat surprisingly, it's Dr. Kleiner who manages the most eloquence of anyone here. He shuffles forward and clears his throat, squinting down at a bit of paper he's scribbled on. "Eli Vance," he says, "need not be idealized or enlarged in death beyond what he was in life, to be remembered as a good and decent man, who saw wrong and tried to right it, saw suffering and tried to heal it, saw destruction and tried to stop it. Those of us who loved him and who take him to his rest today, pray that what he was to us and what he wished for others will some day come to pass for all the world."
Finally, Judith steps forward. "I haven't known Eli for as long as the rest of you," she begins. "I knew of him, his reputation as a scientist and as a leader. I had thought he couldn't possibly be everything the rumors had made him out to be. But then, a little less than three years ago, I met him for myself, and found out... he was everything his reputation had made him out to be, and more." There's a little catch in her voice; she swallows and blinks away tears. "I feel privileged to have known him. That's all I have to say."
Alyx herself remains silent throughout the whole ceremony. She doesn't trust herself to keep her composure if she tries to speak. After the coffin is covered over and the attendants start the slow march back into the base, she lingers behind, staring silently at the concrete tombstone.
Gordon's gentle hand on her shoulder rouses her to life. She looks back at him. His expression is one of earnest concern, saying I'm here for you without him needing to speak a word. "I need a minute alone," Alyx murmurs, barely audible. He nods and turns to walk away.
It takes her more than a minute. It feels like hours, or even days. She reads the two lines on the tombstone over and over, without really knowing why. Is she hoping to glean some deeper meaning there? Some hint that it's all not true? Some sense of closure that will let her be at peace with all this?
She doesn't know. She can barely even think. She just stares, wishing to God that she knew what to say.