In Pittsburgh City Hall, next to the Media and Public Opinion Control Center, was a room with a black, unmarked plaque hanging on its door.
Only those with a specific keycard could pass through the thick, soundproof door.
The room had no windows, and a climate control system kept the temperature locked at a steady sixty-eight degrees Fahrenheit.
This was the "darkroom" of the Media and Public Opinion Control Center.
Dozens of high-performance workstations were arranged in rows, their cooling fans emitting a low-frequency hum like a swarm of bees.
Cold blue light illuminated the operators' faces, making them look like biological components extending from the vast machinery.
Sarah Jenkins stood behind Workstation One.
She stood with her arms crossed, fingers tapping a rhythm on her bicep, her gaze fixed on the main monitor in front of her.
A video clip was playing on the screen.
It was footage from a Senate hearing.
At the center of the screen was a man with graying hair.
