David pressed a button labeled "S4."
"What does that mean?" Aaron asked, tilting his head as he felt the floor begin to drop.
"Sub-basement," David replied, matter-of-fact. "That's what the 'S' stands for. The building is divided vertically—the floors above ground are for business and administration. Below ground, it's all research and development. It keeps everything organized and separated."
The elevator gave a soft ding as they neared the floor. Aaron felt the brakes engage as they slowed to a stop. When the doors slid open, a wave of chilled air swept in. He stepped out and was immediately struck by the sight before him.
It was a pristine, stark white room filled with polished metal workbenches and scattered stools. Machines of all shapes and sizes lined the walls or sat neatly on tables. Various gadgets, tools, and scientific devices were spread throughout, some humming quietly, others blinking with lights. Aaron's eyes widened. He tried to take it all in at once, stunned by the sterile yet captivating atmosphere.
David chuckled at his son's reaction and gave him a proud pat on the back, guiding him toward a large bench at the far side of the room.
It didn't take long before the other lab workers began to notice the newcomer. A few approached to greet him, some asking David about his son, others offering friendly introductions. There were about twenty to thirty people working in the lab that day, and nearly all of them knew David. But it wasn't just professional respect—they admired him, deeply, as both a scientist and a man.
As Aaron stood near the entrance, he noticed a small bowl on a table beside the door. It looked like it held welcome mints—odd, perhaps, for a high-security lab, but nothing screamed danger. Who says no to free candy? he thought. Unless it's from a creepy stranger in an unmarked van, of course.
He popped one into his mouth... and instantly regretted it. The taste was awful—bitter beyond belief, like his tongue had been coated in raw science. He grimaced, unable to spit it out, and instead forced it down with a hard swallow. His mouth tingled uncomfortably, and he gave the bowl a suspicious glance. But nothing else seemed out of the ordinary. He shrugged it off, grabbed a spare lab coat and gloves, and began walking around the lab, watching the scientists at work.
Time passed quickly. People came and went. Vials were transferred, liquids poured and mixed, machines beeped and buzzed. Aaron stayed close to his dad, eyes constantly moving, absorbing every detail. This was what he'd dreamed about—being here, watching his father do what he loved most.
Eventually, the clock struck just past 6 PM. One by one, the researchers began cleaning up and signing off for the day.
All except David.
He placed a hand on Aaron's shoulder and looked him in the eyes. "Come on. I want to show you what we've really been working on."
He led Aaron into a small office attached to the lab. Papers and folders were scattered across the desk, and lab reports were pinned across the walls and bulletin boards in a chaotic yet purposeful fashion.
"We're trying to find a cure—or at least a pathway to one—for a number of genetic disorders," David began. "Alzheimer's, Down syndrome, others like them. These," he said, gesturing to the wall of pinned results, "are outcomes from the machine my team and I designed ourselves. It's like CRISPR, but far more advanced. Capable of manipulating genes with unprecedented precision."
Aaron leaned closer, captivated.
"We've hit a 99% accuracy rate with the edited genes. And we've even begun creating medicine through similar means." David's voice was filled with pride now. "Those pills you saw by the door? Genetically enhanced. They contain a compound synthesized from Felis catus and Carcharodon carcharias—domestic cat and great white shark DNA."
Aaron's stomach twisted.
"We've been preparing for animal trials, starting with lab mice, of course, to gauge physiological effects on test subjects and—"
David's words became static. Aaron's thoughts spiraled, crashing into one another like a train wreck. The pill.
He'd eaten one. That wasn't a mint.
He tried to speak, tried to interrupt, but the words wouldn't come. His throat tightened. The bitter taste lingered on his tongue like a warning.
David kept talking, lost in his passion. Then, finally, he noticed his son's silence.
"Hey... Aaron?" he said, his voice shifting, eyes narrowing. "You okay? You look pale..."
Aaron stared at him, unsure how to answer. His mind stuttered and stalled, logic colliding with panic. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
David glanced at the clock.
"Oh wow—it's so late," he said, laughing softly. "No wonder you look exhausted. Come on, let's go home."