But they give some constraints on the properties of such connections, and their time evolution.
This highly speculative information is available to her, but even were she fast enough to access it, none of it would be particularly useful when a pinpoint of not here blinks into existence directly ahead and expands spherically to swallow her.
“We're the same species as far as I've observed, and assuming Aperture's files aren't systematically lying about the outside world, I've found these universes have similar plants and animals — and continents — and all that suggests that we're likely not different enough to disagree on edibility.
“But your caution is reasonable. Let's see what's still here.”
Do there happen to be any cafeterias in the networked, self-repairing section? (Quite possibly not, since that is more dedicated to Testing and not ordinary life, but it's worth checking.)
There actually are! There are in fact a couple of personality cores dedicated to making breakfast and lunch and dinner and growing plants in a greenhouse and redirecting sunlight from the surface. The AIs were so proud of their job they kept doing it even after all humans were gone.
And if she checks on camera views of their actual food preparation and serving, does it look safe and edible?
"There is apparently a functional cafeteria. Assuming you care to trust the minor AIs running its food preparation to not have gotten things subtly wrong."
"If our worlds are that similar I don't have a problem with eating your food but the cafeteria here wasn't bad either, that I remember."
It's just as she remembers it. Except with fewer patrons, and more of the walls and counters and kitchen equipment being elaborate machinery in gleaming white and graphite black.
Behind one of the serving counters there's something like a giant robot eyeball suspended from a track on the ceiling, politely not quite watching her.
Yeah, okay, creepy but whatever, she's hungry and will get some food and then return upstairs. Uplift? Whatever.
At the counter the robot's behind there are some less recognizable but plausibly foodlike things. According to the labels they're ‘in testing’.
From beyond a doorway comes a faint voice: “Hey! Is that a customer? Awesome! Ask —”
“Look, come out here and talk if you want, but don't yell from the kitchen, Halligan!” says the visible robot.
“Never mind!”
“Sorry about that,” it mutters in Chell's general direction.
Not that that makes much difference, since "in testing" or no the food here was all produced by these robots, but.
Actually, it's a short row of single-occupancy restrooms. And that toilet looks familiar.
These seem to be the same design as the Relaxation Vaults, except for having a sink instead of a suspension chamber. And the walls aren't transparent. And there's a normal door.
"I don't know if the experimental food was bad, but the non-experimental food was foodlike."
“Anything else you need right now? Besides an actual exit and so on,” waving at the forcefielded sky.