But before that, Janis is getting her ultrasound at the neonatologist's office. As per usual with these things, it looks less like a fetus up there and more like a Rorschach blot, but the doctor seems satisfied, so who am I to quibble with the fictitious medical specialist? The doctor tells Janis to take better care of herself and reduce her aggravation: "The health of your baby depends on your ability to stay off your feet and lower your stress. I'm serious. Otherwise, you could lose your baby." As if to underscore the point, Mark calls right at that moment, totally pissed off because Professor Cory's in his office with a very interesting story.

Janis rushes in, and Cory's all, "So, the darndest thing happened! Not only did my entire building lose power, wiping out whatever was on my computer, I lost those blueprints you gave me." Janis deadpans, "Really," but Cory's BS detector is unusually well-honed -- it has to be for him to survive in the vicious, bloodthirsty arena of a university's humanities department -- and he barely manages to keep the Gotcha! smirk out of his voice when he says, "So it's a good thing I took pictures of them with my phone. I wanted to get a head start." "Great," Janis lies, no doubt feeling her cortisol levels rising in real time. We get a whizzy 3D CAD rendering of a clock with gears and levers designed to calculate a series of dates. The first one? October 6, 2009.

We then flash back to Janis's version of what happened the day of the blackout. Guess what? Janis blacks out like everyone else and has her vision of being Great With Child. The flashforward is much more detailed -- in it, a doctor says, "You've had a partial abruption, Ms. Hawk. The good news is, you've stopped bleeding. You're going to have to really watch your physical activity from here on out." So now we know Janis wasn't getting an ultrasound at 10 p.m. because she's got the most awesome OB/GYN practice ever -- there was a legitimate medical concern and likely emergency call. Then Janis comes back to the present and wanders, dazed, over to a window. She drinks in the mind-boggling carnage taking place. Then we cut to her throwing up in the bathroom, and once she finishes, she breaks down sobbing.

Next, Janis storms into the pet store. She's dressed for business -- hair scraped back into a bun and everything -- and she bellows, "I want out!" Carline looks up and deadpans, "It's normal to be upset," but Janis is not interested in normal. She's interested in self-flagellation: "Millions of people died yesterday, Carline! I lost friends -- people I know and work with. Nobody told me this was the plan when I was recruited. You said there was going to be an event, but you never said it would be like this. Did you know it would be like this?" Carline drawls that she doesn't answer questions, and she doesn't plan on letting Janis quit. "I didn't hear you complaining when you were pocketing all that money. You didn't think there was a price?" she ask coolly. Janis snarls that Carline's despicable. Carline scoffs, "Man up, sweetheart. This is what we do. And even if we wanted to cut you loose, that's not my call to make." As for the person whose call it is to make: "That's not going to happen. Ever." So Janis's employers are effectively the Hotel California -- she can check out any time she likes, but she can never leave. (On the plus side: pink champagne in everyone's Christmas stocking!)