The Escape Room – Part 1: The Padlock

"It should be four digits," said Mira.

"It should be six."

"Four is elegant."

"Six is a challenge."

"It's a game, Jonas. People should solve it."

"People should suffer."

They glared at each other across the workshop. The room around them was half-built: a steampunk laboratory with brass pipes, dials and a hidden door behind a bookcase. The design studio was in a converted factory in Berlin, full of sawdust and glue and prototype puzzles. Mira, thirty, was the lead designer: small, sharp, in dungarees and a bandana, with a pencil behind her ear. Jonas, thirty-four, was the engineer: tall, lanky, in a faded T-shirt, with round glasses and the rueful air of a man who had built many doors.

"Fine," said Mira. "Five."

"Five is an odd number."

"That's the point."

They shook on it. They fixed the padlock, wired the lights, set the timer. At eleven at night, they walked through the finished room for a final test. Mira closed the door behind them.

It clicked.

"That's not supposed to happen," said Jonas.

"What?"

"The lock."

He tried the handle. It didn't move. He tried it again. Mira tried the hidden panel, the bookcase, the window. Nothing.

"We're locked in," she said.

"We're locked in."

"You built the lock."

"I built this lock."

"Is there a manual override?"

"Outside."

They stared at each other in the amber glow of the brass lamps. Then Mira began to laugh, helplessly, and Jonas sat down on the floor with his head in his hands.

"Can I ask you something?" said Mira, after a minute.

"Yes."

"Do you actually know how to get out?"

"I designed it so nobody could," said Jonas.

"Green?" she said, a lamp, a code.

"Green," said Jonas, with a rueful grin. "Very green. We solve it."

Continue the story: Part 2 – Five Digits.