Robbie Dorman - Regrowth

“Why not?”

“It’s too advanced,” said Mel. “The stuff we had in the medical pillar was state-of-the art, right on the cutting edge. This stuff is beyond that.”

“Then why wouldn’t Shaw just give us this stuff to begin with?” asked Jon. “If he just wanted results.”

“That was my first question,” she said. “He was testing us. And since we succeeded, we got the key to the kingdom. Or the key to his future tech.”

Jon shook his head. “That’s crazy, though.”

“What else explains it?” asked Mel.

“Maybe he wanted plausible deniability,” said Jon. “If we didn’t make it down here. If we never progressed, we wouldn’t leave with knowledge of what was down here.”

Mel nodded. “Just thought I should mention it.”

“You’re not the only with questions,” said Jon. Mel returned to work. Jon went to Stone when he saw him alone.

“Any of this strike you as weird?” asked Jon.

“All of it’s weird, Jon,” said Stone. “I stopped questioning it after the billionaire summoned be down to his underground science lab.”

“Not that,” said Jon. “The guards. The shielding. The tech. Something isn’t adding up.”

“Well, Shaw didn’t mention he had people here prior to the apocalypse, but it makes sense. If you have this impregnable place, why wouldn’t you use it, regardless if the world was in danger or not?”

“Not even that,” said Jon. “Even though the question did come up in my head. But the money here—”

“He’s the world’s richest man, Jon,” said Stone.

“I know,” said Jon. “I know. More than you and I can imagine spending in a lifetime. But Shaw says he wants to save the world. I guess I just didn’t connect the dots beforehand, but it’s been adding up. The cost of this place is hundreds of millions, if not billions of dollars. Why not spend that money up top? Why not use it to save people now, instead of on research?”

“He doesn’t think like that,” said Stone. “He wants to change society for the better. Giving people money will feed them today, but we need to feed them for their lifetimes. And giving people money won’t stop famine, or stop climate change.”

“But people are suffering—”

“You have to think larger, Jon,” said Stone. “That’s how Shaw sees things. He’s big picture. I don’t agree with everything he’s done, obviously, but this, I understand. He invests down here and then sees the return on a huge scale. Listen, don’t think about it. It’s too big for us. We should just focus on our work here. That’s how we can help.” Stone patted him on the back, and Jon tried to take it as reassurance, but it only felt like condescension.

Jon had come down here to realize his research, and that was happening. It would help people like Tommy and Mr. Shaw and also help others with similar problems. And nothing Stone said was wrong.

But what about those blast shields, and the armed guards? What else was going on down here? What other secrets was Shaw keeping?

Jon missed Tabby, and she eventually answered his messages, agreeing to see him at her place that night. Jon was exhausted from the day. After stopping by at his house to see Tommy and get dressed, he went over to Tabby’s. His excitement to visit her overwhelmed his weariness.

She opened the door with a smile, but he could see the same tiredness in her motions, just a half step slower than usual. He had only been in the dark lab for a day, and it exhausted him. She’d been there for a week.

They kissed.

“I hope you don’t mind macaroni and cheese,” said Tabby. “I didn’t have the energy to make anything else.”

“That’s fine with me,” said Jon. “I’m not here for the food.” He meant it as a joke, but Tabby didn’t answer with a smart-ass comeback, which is what he expected.

“How are you doing?” he asked. Tabby had a glass of wine in front of her, already half empty, and she had just opened another bottle for him. She’d been drinking. It explained some of her slowness. Jon could see the red in her cheeks now, a dead giveaway that she’d had a few. She never slurred her words, so it was hard to tell.

“I’m alright,” said Tabby, taking another sip of wine. “I’m tired.”

“I can tell,” said Jon. “You don’t seem yourself.”

“It’s hard work down there,” said Tabby.

“I’ve only been there a day,” said Jon. “And I’m already exhausted. The pressure—it’s real.”

“You can say that again,” said Tabby.

“Has it gotten any easier?” asked Jon, but Tabby didn’t answer, eating another forkful of macaroni instead.

“Easier?” asked Tabby, finally.

“Yeah,” said Jon. “Do you get more used to it over time?”

“Used to the dark lab?” asked Tabby.

“Yes,” he said. “Do you get used to it?”

“I guess,” said Tabby, avoiding eye contact. She ate more macaroni and drank another sip of wine. She wasn’t rude, but she didn’t want to talk about something. They finished dinner, and Jon let her have her silence. They sat down on the couch, just sitting together. Tabby had poured herself another glass of wine, even though it didn’t seem to affect her, aside from her red cheeks.

Jon put his arm around her, and she leaned into him, nesting her head onto his chest. The touch felt good, and told Jon that whatever Tabby held back wasn’t about him. They sat there, in silence, and Jon held her, trying to be there for her, enjoying her warmth and touch. Eventually, she spoke.

“I’m afraid to tell you what’s going on.”

“Why?” asked Jon.

“Because it’s dangerous,” said Tabby. “I think. I think you’d be in danger if I told you, and Shaw found out. And I don’t want to endanger you or Tommy.” She paused and took a deep breath. “I think Shaw is lying to us.”

“About what?” asked Jon.

“About a lot of things,” said Tabby. “But mostly, about the purpose of this place.” Jon thought to the armed guards. The blast shields.

“What is the purpose, then?” asked Jon.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been able to talk to you as much,” said Tabby. “Or see you. I’ve just been so busy. We’ve been working eighteen-hour days for a week straight. I had to take a break tonight. My new team—they don’t quit. And I’m in charge. It makes me look bad if I leave the lab before them.”

“It’s okay, Tabby, it really is—”

“So we’ve been running non-stop. And I told you that we had a working prototype of my battery design, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, within a week, we’re already past that. Two or three iterations deep. It’s moving so fast. Before I’ve barely even looked at the thing, it’s off to be tested and re-tested, with stricter and stricter requirements. How much power can we draw from it? How long is the charge cycle? Can we make it smaller? Can we make it smaller than that? Is it safe to be carried? Can we do this or that? It doesn’t end.” She sat up and drank more wine. “I’ve been drinking too much. It’s the only way I can get to sleep anymore. I know it’s not good sleep, but it’s something, something better than nothing, which is mostly what I was getting.”

Jon put his hand on her back, softly rubbing. She breathed out. “The questions they’ve asked about the battery. The way they talk about it. The demands they want from it. It’s made me suspicious. And I try and tamp them down, but they keep coming back up. But I can’t ignore my gut anymore. I think I know what they want to use my battery for.”

“What’s your gut say?”

Tabby turned to look at him. “That it’s for a weapon.”

“What kind of weapon?” asked Jon.