TV screen

The Archive nodded once and flicked a hand at the air. There was a shimmer, and a television screen appeared there, a news report that I suppose had been inevitable, even if the ongoing loss of power meant that we hadn’t had the chance to see it yet.
It was helicopter footage, along Chicago’s waterfront. It showed the destruction in graphic detail. Basically the Bean reflected the lakeshore now, a wide swath of pulverized bits of former city. I could imagine the magazine covers. Or the thumbnail images. Whatever.
The chyron running at the bottom of the screen read: AFTERMATH OF MAJOR TERRORIST ATTACK IN CHICAGO. WIDESPREAD CHEMICAL WEAPONS AND POSSIBLE WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION USED. AS MANY AS 20,000 DEAD. PRESIDENT DECLARES STATE OF NATIONAL EMERGENCY.
Hell’s bells.
“In aggregate,” the Archive said, speaking with a little more Stallone than one would have expected out of a teenage girl, “the coverage of the event would strongly indicate that the mortal powers that be have decided to obfuscate.”

Battle Ground Chapter 36, Page 377