The decision was almost unanimous. Until the current situation is resolved, the Cairo-Aire biomedical research center was to be turned into an emergency clinic. Weird people with weird powers were rampant, and there was a slow but constant increase in civilians caught in the crossfire between feats of magic and the USF's military solution to said magic. The lab was well-equipped for this, most of the staff were M.Ds, and it was impossible to continue their research under the lockdown anyway.
Thus, most of the high-end sciency equipment was stashed, and the building was refurbished into a small E.R. with overqualified nurses and slightly lost doctors.
Chris couldn't really find his place in the new arrangement. Whatever little medical proficiency he had could only be used for moving medicine and tools around, and even then he felt unneeded most of the time. Under the guise of keeping the measurement machines operational, he continued testing himself, but only sporadically. His fear of being detected and dragged off to wherever the 'mutants' were taken grew every day.
Then, one day, true to his fears, they came. A USF officer, accompanied by five armed soldiers whose worn equipment and worn faces told they meant business. They came in the late evening, after closing hours, when only Chris and the nightwatch doctor were present.
What followed was an offer Chris couldn't afford to refuse. The USF knows about the lab's research, the officer said, and are aware that it cannot continue under the ongoing quarantine. However, the USF are in need of similar research - they need to examine and categorize the incoming 'anomalous' humans. The lab's advanced equipment is exactly what they need, along with a minimal staff that can operate it. This research must be done in the USF's main containment facility on Aire.
The lab did not really have any staff to spare, other than Chris. The equipment was unused anyway. And the funding offered was nothing to scoff at. They accepted, while Chris was trying hard to hide his excitement. This, at least, was made easier by the strange side-effect of his power.
Once the move was complete, he notified the staff it would take a week or two to calibrate the instruments. This does not prevent testing of the patients, but the results may be unreliable. He wondered how much of a suicidal move this whole deal was, when the door to the infirmary opened.
