Chapter -1: In the Lab

Apartment Block 614, New Company Estates

The apartment is well appointed, though small, but feels cozy. The skyline is busy, and we're high enough up to enjoy it properly. Dr. Weland is not commonly seen anymore after her retirement; this interview is the first time she agreed to speak with any member of the press after the war. I had to explain my project and scope in full several times before she agreed to a meeting.

How it started? There are so very many conspiracies about that. Oh, we were building bioweapons, or it was a super soldier program, or those idiots who thought we were literally working for the devil. No, no, we were doing what any good start up should, and were desperately trying to come up with something to justify the insane amount of capital we'd been handed.

Things were different then, you understand. Our discoveries were new, not even patented, so closely guarded only whispers ever left our little building. After all, it should have been impossible. We found a way to turn stem cell production back on, and were figuring out how to direct it. Can you imagine the possibilities?

Plastic surgery, prosthetics, organ regrowth; the only limits were what we could imagine. We called ourselves biohackers, pushing the limits of what we could do, could imagine, could dream. There were billions of dollars at stake, you understand, we had to move both quickly and quietly.

The trouble, of course, came with testing. You can't test human DNA recombination in animals that aren't humans. We had the techniques down, the simulations all worked, but we needed live tests. Volunteers only of course, sourced locally, given so many NDAs our lawyers had wet dreams about it.

We started small; you don't begin by trying to regrow a leg. Minor things; making scars disappear, giving you that extra inch you'd dreamed of, hair regrowth; minor and petty things. We made it through three rounds of trials, all small, one to three subjects in each but the results were so promising. It was in the fourth round that things went wrong.

She shakes her head, turning to gaze out the window, no longer able to look at me.

So many conspiracies again, so many thoughts about what happened, and how, and why, and you want to know what it really was? Speed and greed. The board had decided to announce, we were going to be launching products in another month, but they wanted a real win. Something big, something nobody else could even claim to be trying. We were throwing everything at the wall for the fourth tests; limb regrowth, gender reassignment, height, weight therapies, full plastic surgery mimics, all rushed, all half-baked, all half-tested. But up till then, everything had worked perfectly, we were all riding the high of success.

Working 18 hour days, mistakes were inevitable. We never were able to work out what combination of shots Patient 0 received, but, well, the rest is history.

Was it worth it?

I don't know, we'll see what you think when the story ends.

She's still looking out her window, but her gaze has shifted to the Biotechnics sign, the company she helped found, one of the four largest conglomerates in the world currently, and the sponsor of this Estate.