Robbie Dorman - Regrowth

“That’s what scares me,” said Tabby. “I don’t know. The power draw they need, though? It’s astronomical. And they need high throughput. All the energy, all at once.”

“What kind of weapon runs off a battery?” asked Jon.

“Energy weapons,” said Tabby. “Plasma rifles.”

“Plasma rifles?” asked Jon. “That’s video game stuff. They never work in the real world.”

“You’re regrowing limbs, Jon,” said Tabby. “I know you’ve only been down there a day, but Shaw has tech that I’ve never heard of before, either researched himself or gotten from military contractors. But the power demands they need line up with something very powerful. And it’s changed the entire scope of my project. But I’ve gone along with it. I’ve made the changes they’ve needed, and I’ve only received positive feedback.”

“So you’re helping them?” asked Jon.

“Yeah,” said Tabby. “Hence the wine. But I’m afraid not to. Because I’ve noticed something else. Remember Dr. Armitage?”

“Yeah,” said Jon. “The saboteur. Exiled, along with his family, after setting off a fire bomb. I’ve seen the guards down there, with the assault rifles.”

“It’s not them I’m worried about,” said Tabby. “At least not directly. I don’t think Armitage was exiled.”

“Then what?” asked Jon.

“Have you noticed anything else out of the ordinary, in the dark lab?”

Jon thought for a second. “I mean, there’s a lot of weird stuff going on down there. I was caught off guard by the size of it, by the armed troops, by the amount of people that were already down there—”

“Yeah,” said Tabby. “Shaw has been running this place for a longer than he’s let on. Okay, I’ll ask this. Did you look for any familiar faces?”

“I mean, I don’t make friends like you do,” said Jon. “But I kept my eyes open. I recognized a couple of people walking around, but the place is so big, it’s hard to keep track.”

“That’s intentional,” said Tabby. “It’s to keep us isolated in our labs, a place that’s small and familiar. So we don’t get nosy.”

“Well, it worked,” said Jon. “I’m terrified to leave the lab.”

“I forced myself out. And I walked around. No one explicitly said that I can’t, and no one stopped me. I could feel the guards eyeing me, but I let them. And I didn’t look at the labs. I looked at the people. I did a whole circuit.”

“Jesus, that must have taken forever. The place felt gigantic.”

“It’s smaller than it seems. But it still took over an hour,” said Tabby. “But I noticed something.”

“What?” asked Jon.

“Remember when you were telling me you noticed all the people getting promoted?” asked Tabby. “You were so worried that you wouldn’t make the grade.”

“Yeah,” said Jon. “The lab felt emptier and emptier.”

“Well, theoretically, those people went down into the dark lab, right?”

“Yeah.” Jon felt a sinking sensation in his gut, sensing where Tabby was headed.

“They’re not there,” said Tabby. “Maybe I missed them, or maybe they just stayed locked in their labs all day, but I’m pretty sure that some of those people have just disappeared.”

“Is it possible there’re more labs?” asked Jon. “Other facilities or levels where Shaw has put them?”

“It’s possible,” said Tabby. “But I don’t believe it. Because my gut says that those scientists aren’t in some other lab, or exiled, or transported home, to wherever that was for them. My gut says they’re dead.”

Jon felt his heart thump in his chest. He took a deep breath.

“If that’s true, Shaw must know that someone would notice, right?” asked Jon. “He wouldn’t just do it, out in the open.”

“Well, there’s two choices,” said Tabby. “One, he didn’t think anyone would notice. That with the size of this place, and the way we’ve shifted around, and the amount of work we do, that we would lose track of people, anyway. And some only have eyes for their work and aren’t good at remembering to keep in touch. So, there’s some of that, I’m sure. But everyone here is smart, and naturally curious, and incredibly skilled at critical thinking and investigation, and so I throw out choice one. If it’s true, Shaw must have known that someone would notice. Or multiple someones. And that scares me too.”

“Why? What’s choice two?” asked Jon.

“Well, choice two is that he knows that someone would realize people are missing, and he just did it, anyway. He black bagged them, killed them, erased them, knowing full well the rest of the researchers down here would notice it. Whoever didn’t toe the line, or he suspected of sabotage, or realized his true intentions—they disappeared. Someone like Armitage, when their impact was obvious, he made a show of it, talked about exile. But when it was someone already in the dark lab, already cut off from the rest of the researchers—they just vanish one day. Maybe even leaving an assistant or partner knowing full well what happened, but afraid to speak out.”

“That’s a secret police,” said Jon. “Like the SS, or the KGB.”

“Yes,” said Tabby. “Because that’s what’s happening, Jon. Shaw is operating in front of us, with a smile, and handshakes, and treating us like he’s a proud parent. All the while, he’s taking our research and using it for whatever purpose he wants. And anyone who speaks up or out loud enough, they die. And their families die, and Shaw moves on, using their corpses as a stepping stone to the next discovery.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” said Jon. He put his head in his hands. “I can’t believe this.”

“The signs were all there,” said Tabby. “We just didn’t want to believe it. But we’re prisoners down here, Jon. And we have been since the moment we stepped foot inside. Sure, the jail cells are comfortable, and we can have whatever food we want. But step out of line, it’s not the outside world we’ll have to fear. It’s an incinerator.”

“I think I’ll have some wine,” said Jon. “Or maybe just some whiskey.”

“I haven’t gotten back around to Shaw’s lie,” said Tabby.

“What?” asked Jon. “He’s lied about all of that, everything you just said.”

“No, he hasn’t,” said Tabby. “Maybe lies of omission, if you want to count that. Which you could. But they weren’t lies to our face. Because what did he tell you when you talked on the phone? When he pitched you to come down here?”

Jon remembered. Waking up to a phone call in his crappy apartment in New York.

“He told me we would save the world,” said Jon.

“That’s the lie,” said Tabby. “A big one, one so big you wouldn’t even question it. Because Shaw doesn’t want to save the world, Jon. Not with all this technology, not with all this power.”

Tabby downed the rest of her wine, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

“He doesn’t want to help the world, Jon. He wants to make a new one.”

Jon couldn’t watch, not again, not seeing his failure spring up in front of him, from a living creature. Not again.

But he made himself look the entire time. If anyone was responsible, it was him, and he would bear that burden.

They had put the chimp under sedation and then removed its arm. “They” meaning his team. Jon wasn’t hands on with these surgeries, only giving instructions. He had no issue. They were as good or better than he was, and he had never operated on a chimp before. He had dissected human corpses, but never a chimp.

His stomach ached as he watched them amputate the creature’s arm, blood spurting out from the wound, now more than enough hands to staunch the flow of blood, to prepare the injection, to monitor the ape’s vital signs.