“Energy probably is self-explanatory, but of all the needs of humanity, solving our energy crisis would immediately change the scope of civilization.”
Jon only half listened to Sabrina now, because his eyes had caught sight of a woman in a lab coat, her curly black hair softly bobbing as she walked. It was an absent-minded look, but she turned and caught his eyes in hers, just for a moment, and then he broke eye contact, and they kept walking.
Back to the elevator, and Problem Solving was next. Cynthia Samuels wasn’t in her office, and Sabrina couldn’t find her, so Jon didn’t get an introduction.
“Problem Solving seems kind of vague,” said Jon.
“Purposefully vague,” said Sabrina.
“I don’t get it,” said Tommy. He had said little since they’d left the plane, but he was opening up.
“Well, certain fields have intrinsic advantages to mankind. Medicine, Energy. Both easily contained under their own umbrellas. But for other problems, their solutions cover many fields. Reversing climate change or creating corn that can grow anywhere. Targeted teams, trying to solve big problems.”
“So, literally, problem solving,” said Jon.
“Yes,” said Sabrina. “But you’ll find that none of our teams operate on an island. Even the pillars do not operate alone. Let’s say a problem solving team needs an efficient energy solution as part of their research. They can go to Energy for it. That is a large part of each admin’s responsibility. Enable cross organization cooperation.”
All of this was coming in a whirl, and they continued their tour, going to the last pillar, Medicine, Jon’s future home.
“And this is where you’ll be working,” said Sabrina, as they walked through a similar setup, with frosted glass rooms. The open labs featured a lot more stainless steel, and people hustled around, much like the other floors. It smelled different on this floor, however. After a while, you got used to it, the scent of disinfectant mixed with medicine mixed with human. The smell of hospitals. But being without it for weeks, Jon noticed it now. The smell of the erasure of blood.
They walked to the office in a similar place as the other pillars. The doors stood open, with a small man standing behind a standing desk, four monitors, plus two tablets on multiple stands around him, a minimalist wireless keyboard and mouse on the surface.
“Donald?” asked Sabrina.
“Oh, hello,” said Donald, coming around from behind the desk. Jon could see him well now, with large glasses covering his small face, his hair kept trim and unobtrusive. Everything about him seemed to keep him small.
“This is Jon Matthews, and his son Tommy. Jon, Tommy, this is Donald Baskins, admin of the Medicine pillar.”
Jon extended a hand again, before realizing himself and pulling it back.
“It’s hard to get used to,” said Donald. “But you’ll adjust. I want to welcome you to my team, Jon.”
“Thanks,” said Jon. “This place is impressive.”
“It is something, isn’t it?” asked Donald. “But all in the service of science. Of fast science.”
Jon thought to ask about that, but put it off until later. The day had been a whirlwind, and he had lost track of time. He hadn’t spotted any clocks inside the facility.
“I’m excited to get working,” said Jon.
“We’re still setting up your workspace,” said Donald. “Your equipment is coming in as we speak. As well as your assistant.”
“Assistant?” asked Jon. He’d never had one.
“Yes, brilliant young woman,” said Donald. “She should be an asset. You’ll meet her tomorrow. And I’ve looked over your research. Fascinating stuff. Do you really think it’s possible? Limb regeneration, in humans?”
Jon looked to Donald, and saw Donald’s eyes flit to Tommy, before going back to Jon.
“Yes,” said Jon. “I do. We’re closer than we’ve ever been. It’s within our reach. And it’s not just limbs. It’s any kind of trauma.”
Donald nodded. “You’ll have your opportunity. Mr. Shaw has given me the green light to acquire anything you need. But we can go over that tomorrow.”
“About that,” said Jon, looking to Donald, and then Sabrina. “When is that, exactly? I haven’t seen any clocks.”
“We operate on our own clock,” said Sabrina. “It will require some adjustment, on your part. But you’ll be fine after a good night’s sleep.”
“Then tomorrow?” asked Jon.
“Tomorrow,” said Donald. “We’ll have everything ready for you.”
They left then, back to the elevator. As they walked, they passed a lab with an open door, and Jon glanced inside. Dark eyes met his gaze, owned by an enormous man with a buzz cut. He glared at Jon, and Jon averted his eyes. He felt the anger in his stare.
And then they were back in the elevator.
“Is that everything?” asked Jon.
“Well, not quite,” said Sabrina. “The facility is quite extensive, with multiple support levels, but you’ll most likely never see them. We have whole teams of people who clean, who cook, and places to house them. But we keep the groups largely segmented.”
“Okay, is that the last of the labs?” asked Jon.
“All but one,” said Sabrina. “But we won’t be going there today.”
“Why?” asked Jon.
“You haven’t earned it,” said Sabrina, her tone serious.
“What does that mean?” asked Jon.
“I’m sorry,” said Sabrina. “It’s always the way Mr. Shaw phrases it, and it’s rubbed off on me. The last lab is the special projects lab.”
“Aren’t all these special projects? Isn’t that the point of this whole thing?” asked Jon.
“Well, yes,” said Sabrina. “But it’s where you go when you graduate. Anything Mr. Shaw wants to earmark, to focus on, gets moved there. It’s for things ready for implementation, more or less. Where they get their finishing touches. Where we prepare them before we use them in the world.”
“But we can’t see them?” asked Jon.
“No,” said Sabrina. “Again, segmentation. Mr. Shaw is readily aware of the dangers of sabotage, of theft. When something is so close to being useful, it’s more dangerous even then. So the dark lab has another set of lock and keys protecting it.”
“The dark lab?” asked Jon.
“Another name for it,” said Sabrina. “Just don’t use it around Mr. Shaw. He doesn’t like the name.”
“Are you ready to see your quarters?” asked Sabrina.
“Sure,” said Jon. “I could use a breather.”
“Nadia, request residential level, Jon Matthews,” said Sabrina, and the elevator moved again. It stayed in transit for longer this time. Jon imagined the metal tube moving far down into the earth, dozens of stories, until it slowed and stopped. The doors opened.
“Each residential level is limited to forty families,” said Sabrina. “Simply state what I did in any elevator, and it will get you here. Follow me.”
There was no sign of glass here. It looked similar to a hotel hallway, with neutral colors and carpeting. But it reminded him of something else even stronger.
“This looks like—like Star Trek,” said Jon.
“Yeah,” said Tommy. “It looks like Next Gen.”
Jon remembered sitting on the couch with Tommy, before the accident, watching Star Trek with him.
“It is intentional,” said Sabrina. “Mr. Shaw is a fan and patterned a lot of the living spaces after it.” They went down the corridor, passing a few dozen doors, each with a nameplate next to it. Sabrina came to a stop in front of one, finally.
“Jon, simply stand in front of the door,” she said. Jon stepped up, and stood there, and a few seconds later, the door slid to the side.
“Tommy, it will work for you as well. No one else can gain entry. Please, go inside.”