A futile effort, she realizes. 

The faceless man places a hand on the control panel, still beckoning her with the other. She cannot move. Her body feels suspended in place while her mind still battles for control. No, she is moving. 

Why am I moving? Wait, please stop! You do not have to do this! 

Do what? 

Her mind screams out the question but her subconscious already knows the answer. This time, black boots make no sound when her body inches closer. Standing next to the faceless man, her hand reaches out, forced by an internal instinct. She pushes one knob and a dull yellow glow radiates from around a peculiar symbol etched into the crude rock shape. Emotions rush through her, grief, fear…, and yet, some excitement. The encapsulated man cries out with frantic screams inside the pod. They remain motionless while they observe in silence, watching, waiting, until he loses consciousness. She’s seen this rhythmic death before. When gas bubbles build up in the subjects’ body fluids, the skin and tissue underneath rise like dough when water vaporizes in the absence of atmospheric pressure. The man swells to twice his size before he drops onto the glass bottom. Bright red blood trickles from his eyes, nose and ears. Dead.