But they give some constraints on the properties of such connections, and their time evolution.
This highly speculative information is available to her, but even were she fast enough to access it, none of it would be particularly useful when a pinpoint of not here blinks into existence directly ahead and expands spherically to swallow her.
(She'll be checking this electronically as well, of course.)
(This particular extension doesn't suggest she's human, and could be mistaken for a typical Aperture robot if it had a bit more in the way of exposed workings; it's a floating sphere with a camera and some other less-obviously-purposed ports.)
Wheatley's eye widens. "Oh! Yes, ma'am. Everything going fine, here. Nothing wrong at all. I'm glad to see you're safe and whole and very much not dead."
(She has reviewed some of the testing videos.)
As the vaults come into view, she splits into three (with a bit of gratuitous movement and opening panels, to discourage suspicion about not being a normal robot, just in case) and heads to all of the selected vaults.
He follows one of her to the vault. "Of course, of course, happy to hear it. The, um, the humans are fine."
The vaults are, in fact, shaped like motel rooms. By whatever mechanism, the humans are on the bed, looking quite... relaxed. Probably in suspension.
Whatever mechanism. Are there any suspicious, possibly antisocial, mechanisms around the vault? Particularly rude alarm clocks? Just checking.
Nope! Nothing antisocial.
"And they're so, so healthy. Really, you don't even need to check on them, I've been doing quite a good job, if I may say so myself. Splendid."
The test subject awakening process begins. The first step involves moving the vaults to the respective test tracks (there can be many tracks active at any one time, apparently) so the test subjects won't lose any time.
"Oh! Of course, of course. Yes, they'll be very good test subjects, yep, the very best."
She also removes the rail segment that would allow Wheatley to follow as well.
“Sorry about that, but this is going to be a — very special test and I need to avoid any — confounding factors.”
"Sure, sure. Um, I'm gonna go watch the, uh, other humans."
The vaults reach their separate tracks, and the beds are moved to particular places where the humans will wake up: sterile rooms containing only a toilet, surrounded almost exclusively by glass, with the exception of a bit of stone wall there.
Of course. Of course.
The glass falls away as if melted.
And surrounding her is not a standard or non-standard test chamber, but a large expanse of floor panels. There are no walls or ceilings — the immense machinery-dotted space of the interior of Aperture Science is visible all around.
And waits.
“Good morning. GLaDOS is not in charge any more.”
“I found this place by accident and I want to fix it, at least so it won't cause anyone so much trouble again. I'd like some help, but I'll understand if you just want to leave. Though, I still haven't found an open exit.”
Assuming it continues to express no disapproval, she will go through an entire range of stretching and warming up and will then start exercising on the spot.
One of the panels in the expanse of floor pops up, and several objects float out and lay themselves out on a corner of the cubicle floor she's not using.
Most familiarly, there is an Aperture Science Handheld Portal Device.
There is an assortment of construction, or rather demolition, tools, and a clunky gun that appears to have been made of turret parts.
There are stranger objects, including a — folding ladder? — which is spindly and folded up in several improbable ways without benefit of hinges, and a flattish box which seems to think it's a computer terminal, having a keyboard and probably-a-display.
Finally, there are various ways to carry this stuff — a backpack, a tool belt (also featuring some strange construction), and clothes with lots of pockets. The clothes are not orange.