The Controls
You look at the capsule, trying to find a button marked "open," or something of the sort. Apparently, it's not that easy. The capsule is a blank tube with a metal base. A few screens on the base show colored lines - you recognize the heartbeat monitor, which is going at two or three times the normal speed, but the rest are a mystery. Above them is the number 147. There's no sign of buttons, switches, or anything else pushable.
The person in the tube, having gotten your attention, seems to be trying to break the glass. The wrinkled fists make dull thumping noises and nothing else. The surface of the capsule seems to be about two inches thick.
This time, you notice the oxygen mask strapped to the hairless face. The person isn't in danger of drowning, but that fact doesn't seem to be particularly comforting.
"Stay here!" you yell, rather unnecessarily. "I'll try to get you out!"
You don't wait to see if your words get through. If the controls aren't on the capsules, they must be somewhere else. You look around the dark room for anything resembling a control panel.
There it is. A few capsules away is a simple screen-and-keyboard arrangement sticking up from the floor. You run over to it, stare at the unfamiliar buttons, and eventually press the one labeled "MAIN DATABASE."
A list comes onto the screen, numbers followed by strings of meaningless letters. You scroll down to the number 147. Like the others, it's followed by a string of abbreviations - "F Rep ML Plt v3 2315" - and yesterday's date.
Conveniently, there is a button marked "OPEN" at the top of the keyboard.
Written by Chrysalis on 24 February 2009
