text: [Themes: violence]
  
  > look at your surroundings
  Room 322, Mt Airy Hospital
  While spacious, this office is surprisingly austere. The office is clearly separated into two sides. On the west side, a large but inexpensive-looking metal desk is festooned with decorations; a calendar covers its center, while several photos are proudly displayed with their faces to the door. The desk on the east side is a standing oak desk, precisely arranged and nearly bare. All of the decoration on that side of the room is on the walls, an array of diplomas and commendations. An office chair stands in front of each desk.
  
  Only a single object dares to split the room: a wall-mounted television displaying half of a grainy black-and-white picture.
  
  To your south, a door leads back to the hallway.
  
  Below the television, there is a wall button with a typewritten sign taped next to it.
  
  > Examine button
  A white plastic button about a half-inch in diameter, mounted in a brass plate.
  
  > examine the sign
  It's taped to the wall next to a plate with a button. Instructions concerning "remote viewing" are typed on the page's surface.
  
  > read it
  The typewritten sign reads: No remote viewing tests are to occur without a remote supervisor. The subject is to be released by the remote supervisor at the signal of the local supervisor. This button will unlock the door for fifteen seconds, at which time a local buzzer will sound.
  
  > examine safe
  (the black safe)
  A black safe with a numbered dial has been bracketed to the inner left leg of the inexpensive desk. The safe doesn't look overwhelmingly expensive, either, but it does look durable and effective. There is a safety label on the front advising you that it is Class 350 and rated for four hours of fire resistance. It is currently closed.
  
  > read the label
  The safe label reads:
  
  Underwriters Laboratories, Inc
  As To Fire Resistance
  Rating: Class 350-4 Hr
  
  > open safe
  (the black safe)
  It seems to be locked.
  
  > look at the dial
  The numbered dial goes from 1 to 60.
  
  > examine photos
  There are three photos in frames on the desk. The one in the center seems to be a family photo. A man with curly salt-and-pepper hair laughs, his hands on the shoulder of a woman of about his age and a child of about ten whose features, though youthful, strongly resemble those of the older man. After a moment, you recognize the curly-haired man as Theo Yehuda. The younger boy and the woman feature in their own photo, as do the older man and the woman. Happiness all but shines from the subjects as they gaze into the camera lens.
  
  > look under the desk
  As you concentrate, an ache pulses powerfully through your temples. You feel the need to pay closer attention to the small brass key, the ridged key, and the typewriter key.
  
  >Which do you mean, the inexpensive desk or the standing desk?
  
  > turn on the tv
  It's already on.
  
  > Examine tv
  It's a wall-mounted television monitor, antique by your standards. The screen seems to be split into two halves, but one half is completely dark. The other shows a familiar sight: the testing chamber. A skinny young man is hunched on a chair in the corner of the room, next to the table. A timestamp shows in blocky white font on the bottom of the monitor: MAY 12 1978 20:20.
  
  > look at Ian
  On the television monitor, a young man hunches over on a chair, stock-still. Scraggly hair falls over his eyes, obscuring his face. His bare back is curved in a painful arch, and skinny elbows rest on a pair of plain sweatpants. His feet are bare and stained with something dark.
  
  > examine the smudge
  Closer examination convinces you that the red substance staining the paper is blood. The mark is about the size and shape of a smeared fingerprint.
  
  > look at the typewriter
  (the typewriter key)
  A small black key with a white letter I.
  
  > examine the diplomas
  There's something very familiar about these diplomas.
  
  Several diplomas, commendations and awards adorn the wall around the standing desk. Each one is awarded to an Edward Atwater, Ph.D, MD, and each one congratulates the man for his astonishing skill and study in the field of medicine. Apparently, Dr. Atwater both knew his stuff and wanted everyone around him to know it.
  
  > search diplomas
  You slide your hand along the side of one of the diplomas and find a folded typewritten page hidden there. You pull it gently from its hiding place, unfold it, and smooth it out.
  
  You add the creased sheet of typewriter paper to your existing collection of pages.
  
  > Go east
  Side Hall End, Mt Airy Hospital
  Plain, windowless doors labelled neatly with small brass signs lead off to the north and south. At the east end of the hallway, a large, lurid orange biohazard symbol marks a door of a different design.
  This door is a sliding door instead of a regular door, and it has a small, wire-reinforced window.
  
  A legal-size page lies face-up on the floor amid the debris.
  
  Several curving, sharp pieces of glass and small pieces of metal litter the floor.
  
  There's a keycard reader beside the sliding door.
  
  > take the page
  (the legal-size page)
  You pick up the legal-size page.
  
  You add the legal-size page to your existing collection of pages.
  
  > read it
  The legal-size page reads:
  
  From the desk of Dr. Edward Atwater, M.D., Ph.D.
  April 3rd, 1978
  Not a day passes by that I fail to be astonished by how willing
  Corona is to throw their money away. Such tremendous cost of research! Such lucrative pay for the staff! Such reparations to the families of the dead!
  This project has killed fifteen fools who believed themselves to be psychic. I would painstakingly run them through personality tests, IQ tests, psychological profiles. They would pass muster or fail, and those who failed would be turned away. The poor fools who pass receive the treatment that will inevitably kill them. I'm not sure that they've even told the new project head, Yehuda, how many subjects have died thanks to the "symbiont."
  Symbiont. Pah. I'm no microbiologist, but I recognize the symptoms
  of a parasite when I see one, and this one has killed everyone that it's been fed to. The thing dies like any other microorganism when exposed to formaldehyde in the lab as when creating a vaccine, but once it's in the body there's no cure. The little beasts go straight to the brain, the subject goes mad and then dies in an out-of-control adrenergic storm that even a near-lethal dose of diazepam won't stop. And now we're looking for another one. At this rate, we'll never
  get the contract -- at the very least, someone needs to live through the damn infection.
  
  > look at debris
  It's unclear what happened here, but sorting cautiously through the debris by eye, you identify at least two broken test tubes, a shattered syringe, and a couple tiny clamps. A dark, clotted brown substance clings to several of the sharper edges among the debris.