THE PRICE OF VISIBILITY

A high-pitched whine rose from the ventilation ducts as the primary generators died. The hovering camera dropped several inches, its stabilizers struggling to compensate for the sudden drop in auxiliary power.

""What happened to the grid?"" Proctor Vance snapped, pulling a handheld flashlight from her pocket and directing its harsh beam across the room. ""Backup power should have kicked in within two seconds!""

""It’s an internal override,"" a technician yelled from the doorway, illuminated by the red glow of emergency exit signs. ""Someone is dumping the sub-station’s coolant tanks. The entire security firewall on the western perimeter just collapsed!""

In the dim light, Leo sat curled in a tight ball on the table, clutching his knees. He didn't understand the shouting, but the darkness felt safer than the blinding white lights that had been burning his eyes. Through the red-lit murk, he heard the distant sound of shattering glass, followed by the heavy, rhythmic thud of an alarm horn blaring through the halls.

Warning. Perimeter breach in Sector Nine. All personnel report to stations.

The door to the examination chamber hissed open. A silhouette stood in the frame—not a bulky officer in body armor, but a slender figure carrying an illuminated terminal that pulsed with silver code.

""Leo?"" the voice called out, shaking with emotion.

The boy lifted his head. Even through the darkness, he knew that voice better than anything in the world.

""Mama?"" he sobbed, scrambling toward the edge of the metal table with reckless abandon. ""Mama!""

Sarah dashed across the room, scooping Leo into her arms and pulling his small, trembling body tight against her chest. She buried her face in his messy brown hair, inhaling the familiar scent of baby soap and clean laundry that still lingered beneath the stink of the facility.