Blackout

It must have worked, because Dr. Thomas didn’t say anything. He just kept smiling, watching as I apparently soaked in the wonders the CDC had prepared to impress me. I was impressed, all right; impressed by how much of Mahir’s series on the various CDC installations had managed to survive the transfer of my memories. He’d broken them down by region, listing their major features, like helipads, private airstrips… and biodomes.

 

There were eight CDC facilities equipped with biodome simulators. Only four used them for agricultural purposes. Assuming this was one of the facilities that had existed when Mahir wrote his report, I was in one of those four.

 

None of the staff I’d spoken to had Southern accents. Dr. Thomas sounded like he was from the Midwest, but his accent was blurry, like he hadn’t been home in a long time. Dr. Shaw sounded sort of like Becks, which meant she was probably from somewhere in New England. Everyone else had the Hollywood non-accent that meant West Coast, and I doubted the CDC was bussing in guards and orderlies just to confuse my sense of place.

 

So we weren’t in the South—that took Huntsville off the list—and while we might be in the St. Paul facility, I didn’t think so. The accents were wrong. That left either Seattle or Phoenix.

 

My smile was genuine as I turned back to Dr. Thomas. “Thank you so much for letting me see this,” I said. “I think you’re right. I feel better just being here.”

 

Being in either of those two cities meant we were near a dozen bloggers who knew me. More importantly, we were near a dozen bloggers whose hunger to be the first at the scene would mean they listened first and shot second if I managed to show up on their doorsteps. All I had to do was find a way out of the building, and while I wouldn’t be exactly in the clear, I would be in a much better situation than I could have been. I would have a chance.

 

“Well, as long as your recovery continues without any setbacks, and as long as you continue to cooperate, I believe I can see clear to letting you out for a constitutional every other day. How does that sound?”

 

My smile froze again. It sounds like you think I’m some sort of house pet, you patronizing bastard, I thought, but said only, “That sounds great.”

 

“We have half an hour before your next tests. Would you like to explore the dome?”

 

“Can I?” I didn’t have to feign my interest. The biodome was a new environment. After weeks in the sterile CDC halls, I needed that more than I could have guessed.

 

“I wouldn’t have brought you here if I wasn’t going to let you have a little time to roam,” said Dr. Thomas. That damn paternal smile was back on his face. “Go ahead. Look around. You’re completely secure here. No one will come in and trouble you.” His smile slipped a bit, turning stern as he added, “But, Georgia, if you were to attempt to open any of the doors—”

 

“You wouldn’t blame a girl for trying?” I asked.

 

Dr. Thomas’s eyes narrowed, all pretense of a smile fading. “I most certainly would.”

 

“Understood.” I offered a cool nod to the two guards who were still standing next to Dr. Thomas, and turned to walk deeper into the biodome.

 

I found the first wall less than twenty yards from where I’d started, mostly hidden behind a tall patch of something I assumed was probably immature corn. It looked like corn, anyway. I never spent that much time studying agriculture. The wall was white, and should have stuck out like a sore thumb in the primarily green biodome, but it didn’t. Like the door we’d entered through, it was somehow part of its surroundings.

 

The dome wasn’t a perfect circle, although it wasn’t a square, either; after following the wall long enough to map the angles of two corners with my hands, I decided that it was most likely an octagon. This campus was even bigger than I’d initially assumed. I kept walking, enjoying the springy feel of the grass beneath my feet, and tried to figure out what else I might learn from the structure of the dome.

 

I crested a low hill and found myself facing a pine forest. It was small, no more than fifteen trees forming the edge, but it was enough of a surprise to stop me in my tracks for a moment. The shock was probably a good thing; it kept me from punching the air in sheer delight. We were in Seattle. The Seattle CDC was the only campus with an evergreen forest inside their biodome. I’d seen pictures.

 

As I stood contemplating the pines, I realized that my feet were cold. I looked down. My thick white socks—so perfect for roving the halls of the CDC—were less perfect for wandering around a grassy meadow. They were soaked to the ankles, with grass stains around the toes. There was no way Dr. Thomas would let me wear them back into the main building.

 

“Georgia?”