Robbie Dorman - Regrowth

Already, this was different from a rat. Jon had used many rats throughout his professional life. Despite his words about them toward Stone, they were disposable, more or less. Their numbers were an incredibly valuable resource, where properly bred, the number of new rats was infinite. A boon to scientists anywhere. Mice alike.

Jon had killed many rats in line with his career. He believed that you didn’t waste any resource, even a nearly infinite one like rats, and he believed you didn’t cause any unnecessary pain. He didn’t believe in torture.

He felt a twinge of pain in his gut as they pulled the chimp from its cage and took it to the operating theater. It was one of the mercenaries, and try as he might, Jon had trouble keeping their names straight. But one of the zoologists took it from its pen, taking it to the theater, and the animal was docile, going along willingly. Jon didn’t think to what its life was like up until this point.

A chimp was different. He knew all the factoids about how close humans and apes were to each other, separated so thinly along the genetic code. Jon knew that often those truths were taken too far in the zeitgeist. A lot still separated them from chimps, but Jon saw the shared heritage. Could see where humans had progressed, and chimps never had. But he recognized it, and it made his heart hurt to do it. His mind wondered how many more chimps they would operate on? What would the cost be?

But then he pushed those questions away. He could ponder them later. Any hesitation now could cost them, in results, or harm the chimp, in unnecessary suffering.

With the chimp’s arm removed, they lowered it into the nutrient bath, already half filled with the white calorie-rich milk.

Another set of gloved hands and a masked face came in with the syringe, the magic serum. This was the first winner spit out by the computer model, built by the entire team, with Mel doing most of the coding. The model had given them this, and then Stone and Jon had massaged it some more, from what they had learned with the rats. It passed the eye test, but Jon knew better than to trust that.

He had expected failure, had predicted mutation and deformity, but he had still expected too much.

A minute passed, and then another, as the serum rewrote the chimp’s DNA, cutting, rearranging, editing it into something different. The same as the rat, but more complex, with more systems to navigate, more side effects possible.

And then the arm regrew, bones and muscle knitting together before their very eyes. But something was wrong. The level of the nutrient bath dropped quickly, the chimp absorbing faster than they thought conceivable. The assistants stood nearby, and dumped more in, buckets full, but the creature absorbed it too quickly, and its arm mutated, becoming different, extending, growing.

“Hurry! More!” yelled Stone, through his mask, but they couldn’t feed it fast enough, and its arm was barely an arm anymore, extending out of the bath, bloated muscles coated in half grown skin, with skeins of bone shooting through it, the code disrupted somewhere.

“Stop!” yelled, Jon, finally. “You’re only making it worse.” The assistants ceased dumping in the nutrients. “Destroy it, and then dissect it.” Jon pulled off his mask, the arm finally stopping its absurd, awful growth. He walked out of the theater. Stone was right behind him.

“I don’t understand—” started Stone, but Jon stopped him.

“Don’t understand what?” asked Jon. “I said this would happen. Chimps are incredibly more complex animals than a rat. This sudden graduation is hopeless. We shouldn’t even start with its arm. A finger to start would be much more attainable. Hell, we should take a year before we even touch a chimp—”

“Attainable is not what we’re tasked with, Jon!” said Stone, his voice booming. “You know what we’re after. We don’t have time for baby steps, for the rigorous scientific method. We are flying on the trapeze without a safety net!”

Stone stood over him, towered over him, but then backed away. “I’ll start looking over the next set of serums. We can prepare another for tomorrow.”

“I can’t do this every day,” said Jon.

“Don’t say that,” said Stone. “Don’t tell me you can’t do anything. We’ve come this far, I don’t want to hear you talk about quitting. If it takes a thousand chimps to get our results, then the cost is a thousand chimps.”

“I—” started Jon, but then his phone buzzed in his pocket, and the display read Sabrina. He answered. “Hello?”

“Hello, Dr. Matthews. Sabrina Morton here. Mr. Shaw would like a word with you.”

A shot of cold fear shot through Jon’s heart. He remembered Tabby’s words from the night before.

“I’ll be right there. Should I bring Dr. Stone with me?” asked Jon. Stone’s eyes narrowed at him.

“No,” said Sabrina. “Just you.”

“Heading down now,” said Jon, and the call ended. “Shaw wants to talk to me.”

Stone said nothing, only nodding. Jon left the lab, the way to the elevator still a struggle, as he weaved back and forth down unmarked corridors. He felt the guards’ eyes on him as he walked, but tried to ignore it.

Worry about Shaw, not the guards. Shaw’s initial meeting with them had been only days ago. What could he possibly have to say now? They’d only run one test.

Shaw didn’t stand to greet Jon this time, or shake his hand with his metal prosthetic. He gestured to one of the chairs. His plasticine face didn’t smile, and the great red expanse of his desk greeted Jon again.

“I hear you’re struggling, Jon,” said Shaw, finally, after Jon had settled in.

“I mean, we’ve only had a couple tests,” said Jon.

“I thought you had the problem licked,” said Shaw.

Jon took a deep breath. He chose his words carefully.

“Only in the rats,” said Jon. “Chimps are a completely different animal, literally and figuratively.”

“That’s why I’ve given you your team, Jon,” said Shaw. “Several of them have extensive experience working with and testing on chimpanzees.”

“Yes, and they’ve been a great help,” said Jon. “They’ve brought me up to speed on all my blind spots.”

“Do you have a lot of them?” asked Shaw, and Jon felt a darkness in his tone. He didn’t know if it was imagined, but he felt it.

“Blind spots?” asked Jon. “I try not to.” He smiled, as genuine as he could force.

“I just want to make sure you’re on the right track,” said Shaw. “Obviously I have a lot invested in you and your research.” He paused. “Is it true that you’re seeing Dr. Knight?”

Jon smiled again, even though his face desperately resisted it. “Yes,” he said. “I hope that’s not a problem.”

“Of course not,” said Shaw, smiling his own false smile, the only he ever had. “You’re both adults, and I know it does get quite lonely down here. And there are no conflicts of interest. You’re on different teams. She’s very smart.” Is Shaw hinting at something? Does he know they talked?

You’re being paranoid.

“Yes, she is,” said Jon. “She stuns me, sometimes, with her intelligence.”

“Can’t imagine you two see each other often?” asked Shaw.

“We try and steal time when we can,” said Jon. “But it is difficult. Both of us are prone to put work first.”

“Well, as much as I hate to say it, that doesn’t bother me,” said Shaw. “How’s Tommy? I’ve heard he’s made a friend. A son of Dr. Wilson.”

You hear quite a lot, you son of a bitch.

Jon smiled again, all smiles, only smiles. “Yes. He’s finally settling into a routine. Obviously it’s not ideal, but you know, at least he’s safe down here.” Change the subject. “Can I ask you a question, Mr. Shaw?”