The Reborn (The Day Eight Series Part 1) by Ray Mazza Page B

floor. A pair of doors opened, and they stepped into a short hallway with two non-descript doors on either side, and one at the far end.
    “This is the bathroom, in case you need it,” said Damon, tapping the door on the right with his knuckle as they walked past.
    The door at the end of the hallway opened into a vast room with twenty-foot ceilings. It looked like a living room, with sofa chairs, a couch, TV, carpeting, bookshelves, a desk, a computer. Two adjacent rooms came off of it; one was a small kitchen with a fridge and microwave, and some cupboards (still, it was bigger than Trevor’s kitchen). The other room had black velvet curtains hanging in the archway, which he couldn’t see past.
    “This looks like a very cozy bomb shelter,” said Trevor.
    “It certainly could be. I call it my sanctuary.”
    “Your sanctuary. How in the world do you get a place like this?”
    “Well, I had to jump through some hoops to acquire the permits for this kind of construction. I had it put in because it’s nearly impossible to eavesdrop – these rooms are very private. The rooms are also easier to keep climate controlled, which is important for some of the equipment. You don’t want to sink a room fifty feet into the ground just for climate control though, that would be inefficient.”
    Trevor nodded, agreeing that it would be inefficient.
    “Have a seat.” Damon pointed to a sofa chair over by the coffee table. “I’ll go get Allison from the equipment room.”
    Trevor sat. Damon parted the curtains, letting an intense hum spill forth from the other side, then disappeared as he let the curtains fall shut behind him.
    Moments later, Damon reappeared holding a slim black tablet computer that looked similar to an iPad.
    “That’s her?” said Trevor.
    “Well, this tablet is your interface to her.” Damon handed the tablet to him. It was a screen – currently off – and it had only a few buttons and some speakers.
    Trevor had half expected Damon to walk back in with a little girl trailing behind him. Or a robot of some kind.
    Damon sat, then reached over and pressed a sleek power button on the tablet. The screen flickered to life, and a crisp picture appeared of... a bedroom. There was a chair facing the screen and a four-poster bed in the back against a yellow wall painted with murals of birds. A nightstand with a lamp and coloring book abutted the bed.
    There was something unsettling about the scene. It didn’t quite look realistic. Trevor couldn’t tell if it was the way the light scattered on the materials in the room, or the lack of impurities or blemishes on the surfaces of the furniture. It looked like computer graphics.
    “Where is she?”
    “Allison, sweetheart, we have a visitor I’d like you to meet.” Damon pointed out a microphone on the tablet while he was speaking. Then he pointed at a tiny, black hemisphere the size of a pencil eraser protruding slightly from the tablet above the screen. “And this is a CCD – a video camera – that sends your image to Allison’s screen. Your view of her room is out of a similar camera she has on her simulated tablet.”
    A sound of a door opening and closing played from the speakers, and then a faint pattering of footsteps. They stopped, then something shot across the screen and it went dim.
    “She’s covering the camera with her hand so she can look at you first,” said Damon. “She’s a bit shy.” Trevor waved, hoping it might help.
    Light slowly returned to the screen as Allison pulled her hand away.
    “It’s all right, Dear,” said Damon.
    Finally Trevor could see her. She was sitting in the chair facing the screen, her vibrant green eyes wandering bashfully. When she looked directly into the camera, it was brief. She was a beautiful young girl, just as she appeared in the newspaper article photo of the fire. Now he could see that the color of her hair was dark blonde. It was straight, although slightly messy, and fell a few inches below her