The hidden attic was cold, which was highly unusual for a house built around the turn of the century. Someone had come back in and added additional insulation and a refrigerant system that was tied into the retrofit solar panels and HVAC system. An ingenious and well hidden piping system had kept the home owners from even realizing it was there. But with the unseasonable temperatures caused by “global warming” and the summer heat wave, a refrigerant line burst and coolant had soaked the backside of the living room walls. A HVAC tech was called in to correct the problem, and while trying to make repairs, the attic was discovered. The authorities were contacted immediately, and an ambulance was dispatched. At first it was assumed that the owners of the house were culpable, but the system had not been touched in years and it was determined that the attic had not been disturbed.
But questions remained…and those questions were profound. The discovery at the corner house on Blackbird Lane was compelling and mysterious. For there within the cold sarcophagus lay a woman…cryogenically suspended. She appeared in her mid twenties, and was uninjured upon superficial inspection. DNA and retinal identification came back negative, but old style fingerprinting produced a positive match. In 2011 a woman had gone missing during the epidemic. It was assumed that she had died anonymously in a FEMA encampment, though relatives had maintained that she was still alive, and had been kidnapped. But with no call for ransom, or any demands, the case, though unsolved, was abandoned.
City records indicated that a man named Jonas Smith had owned the house about the time of the disappearance, but all methods to discover his whereabouts proved fruitless, though neighbors from the area claimed he died, or had committed suicide.
And so, Jane Rebecca Madison was rushed to a government medical center outside Baltimore where she was revived. It took nearly 6 weeks for her to completely gain her senses and another two weeks to regain her memory. She was kept in isolation until the news of her condition could be relayed to her properly.
For sixteen days after her memory returned Jane stayed in her suite at the hospital, unsure of what exactly had happened to her. She had told the doctors everything she could remember, but they still wouldn’t let her go home. She was frustrated by their apparent obfuscation, and confused by their use of terms and phrases in an accent she couldn’t quite place. They sounded oddly Latino to her, moving into certain Spanish colloquialisms from time to time, yet their English was impeccable. Then there was their clothing; they looked like the doctors she’d seen her whole life, yet they wore the clothes oddly, as if used to something else, and they were always masked, as if she had some disease. They assured her that she was fine, but she knew something wasn’t quite right.
Their instruments were foreign to her. They’d taken blood, but there had been no needle, only a small plastic device that was placed above her arm. There had been no puncture wound and only a small purple dot even gave her any indication of where the withdrawal site had been.
She read books mostly, on an electronic tablet, yet she couldn’t access the internet or any database. Her current reading list included the classics mostly, although there were several databases of late 20th century fiction. Jane had finished reading what had interested her by the end of the first week. Television was oddly absent, and although she’d requested some music, as yet, none had been forthcoming. She caught fragments of music occasionally when her door was open, but it wasn’t any artist she recognized. The view from her window gave her little indication of what was happening outside, there was an awning blocking her view of the sky, and directly across from her window was a view of the next building over. The small sliver of a view she did have was towards a park, but no one ever seemed to be there.
The room was spacious, most likely designed for two occupants, although Jane was alone. The walls were made from pale blue panels, each one marked with symbols Jane couldn’t identify in the bottom right corner. The ceiling was paneled in acoustic tile, but the lights were smaller than regular fluorescent lights and the light quality was cleaner and more natural that fluorescent. There was a bathroom near the entrance, and all the fixtures were there, but the faucets and toilet worked automatically. The bed was comfortable, and supported the body so that there was no discomfort while sleeping, and it automatically adjusted itself whenever Jane shifted. It was as though all the minor ergonomic problems had been solved in the small suite she now occupied.
Larger problems still existed; questions that had not been answered still loomed in her mind. The truth would come as a shock that even she could not imagine.
Thus the first of many secrets came to light, and the fight to regain our humanity began. In the year 2032 Jane Madison came back to life, and with her came a renewed hope from those who had been tasked to watch for her.
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