Chapter Twelve
Silicon Valley
One Month after the Great Reset
Rowan opened his still stinging eyes, taking in the familiar surroundings of his meditation room. Bright sunshine washed over the sparkling white walls and he felt the solar warmth on his skin. Too bright for his pounding head, he instinctively reached for the dimmer switch to activate the automatic tint feature built into the triple-layered windows. Of course, nothing happened, forcing the painful memory of the power failure back to his mind.
How did I get here? If the power is still out, how did I get through the door? He would have to find the answers, and find that traitor Angela. She was going to pay for this, hard. He walked to the auto-slide door, but nothing happened. He pressed the manual override button, but still nothing. He pounded on the door, yelling for security or anyone. At this point in the day, there should be dozens or hundreds of people in the corridors outside. Everything in the meditation rooms was soundproofed, but occasionally he thought he could still make out the sound of human voices above the sound of his heartbeat. He put his ear up to the door. Can I hear them now?
The complete lack of sound caused a painful ringing in his ears. No white noise, no people noise, not even the whir of the air conditioning system. Regardless of the millions he spent to make this chamber devoid of sound, he always swore he still heard the air exchange units kick in while meditating. He fired three HVAC contractors because of it. But not now. The units must not be working at all, because he could feel the temperature rising in the room. What can I do now? He returned to the large dentist-style chair that served as his meditation station.
Too much had happened in the last twenty-four hours; I think it’s been twenty-four hours, anyway…there were no clocks in his chamber. Need to process my thoughts and focus on a plan. As he reclined in the chair, he stared out the picture window to the trees and hills out around. He could make out buildings peeking above the tree tops, but no movement. A slight wisp of black smoke arose from about a mile out. He couldn’t tell if that was a house, a car or something else. Hopefully nothing serious. California continued to suffer a drought that had been dragging on now for about thirty years. Vegetation surrounding this arid landscape was kept alive mostly by diverted rivers and desalinization plants working 24/7. His mind wandered. What would happen if they didn’t get water up here? Would all the vegetation die off? Wildfires might come right up to the base of The Spaceship; if they dried out, the landscape plants would made the area a tinderbox.
Time drifted away as he stared off into the tan and brown mottling of the hills around. His mind continued to race, suffering the withdrawal of a brain still used to receiving outside stimulus every nanosecond. The headaches pounded again, and he closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep.