As soon as you cross the doorway, the door shuts behind you. A breathless moment later, the small room is lit by glaring fluorescent light. The only thing in the small room is a desk with an even more ancient computer on the table, its input line blinking expectantly. The door on the opposite wall, behind the computer, is locked.

Looking down, you’re not very surprised to see that your laptop now shows the familiar panels of RStudio. Then, a link appears on the screen with brief instructions.

# READ IN DATA
escape_df_iii <- read_csv("https://and.netlify.app/docs/escape/data/set_iii.csv")

Fingers tingling, you copy the link into RStudio and read in the data.

As you view it, it immediately becomes clear that the data is a mess. You’ll need to clean it up a bit before you can proceed. As if in response to your thought, instructions again appear:

You carry the laptop through to the next room, and you’re no longer surprised when the door shuts itself behind you. This time, when the light flickers on, the room is entirely empty, with only a door opposite and a row of dials and a switch set into the wall next to it.

Direction, is it? Distantly, you recall learning about how pairs of variables can have directionality - either positive or negative relationships. Maybe that will help you here.

Stepping through from the dial room, you find yourself in yet another empty room - or, mostly empty. This one has a large dent in the left wall from some strong impact, and on the floor beneath lies another laptop, like the one in your hands, with a smashed screen. It looks like someone before you lost their patience. Or perhaps someone lost their patience with the person before you…

Another small table, this one with a single sheet of paper and a scanner. The paper has five questions on it. On cue, instructions appear on your laptop screen.

You’re getting close to the end, for better or worse. You glance nervously at the battery on the laptop as the frantic whirring of the fan kicks to high gear. Better hurry!

You shake your head to clear it and focus instead on the door ahead of you and the worn keypad set into the wall next to it. Once again, instructions flash on the screen. You frown as more instructions appear and swallow a sudden lump in your throat – it’s maths…

As you enter the dark room, the light that winks on above is different than the fluorescent bars before. A projector is set into the wall above your head, and bright on the opposite wall is the output for the linear model, larger than life. Stepping closer, you can see the faint outline of a concealed door behind the wall – and marks, some from hands, other from pounding fists.

Its fan whirring shrilly, your trusty laptop gives you the final set of instructions.

Call:
lm(formula =  ~  +  +  + , data = )

Residuals:
     Min       1Q   Median       3Q      Max 
        

Coefficients:
            Estimate Std. Error  t value Pr(>|t|)
     
     
     
     
     
---
Signif. codes:  0 ‘***’ 0.001 ‘**’ 0.01 ‘*’ 0.05 ‘.’ 0.1 ‘ ’ 1

Residual standard error:  on  degrees of freedom
Multiple R-squared:  ,    Adjusted R-squared:   
F-statistic:  on  and  DF,   p-value: 

You made it out!

You blink several times in confusion as your eyes adjust. You’re back in the waiting room, which is as deserted as ever, and the light that seemed so bright a moment before is just the grey afternoon light coming through the too-small windows. The first patter of raindrops hit the glass.

Not knowing what else to do, you set the laptop down on the table where you found it. Your stomach rumbles; you should hurry home. What time is it? Did any of that really happen?

As you head out the door, you throw one last glance back at the laptop. A single message remains on the screen for just a moment before it goes dark:

If you’d like your result to be recorded for the leaderboard, fill in the form below.

Well done!