Rebirth

Bonus: Memories

(Monty's memories from 2082, 2084, and 2098, involving Waylon Sr and Serum; anecdotes that didn't make it into the main story.)

July 2082

"Don't you want to take any, Waylon? It must be tempting...?"

"Not particularly. Keep still."

"No? Never? It's going well, for me!" Monty chuckled, as Waylon studied the readings appearing on the monitor connected to Monty's arm, "come now, we can be young together!"

"I'm already over thirty years younger than you."

"Hmph, fine. Then, I'll get to be young, while you continue to age..."

"You do know there are limits?" Waylon raised an eyebrow at him, "you aren't going to be your twenty-year-old self or anything. And it will take time, Monty. It won't give you results overnight."

Monty shrugged.
"Stay still, I need to finish recording this."

Monty rolled his eyes, but stopped moving. "I was going to say, I know that, but I'll still be closer to my prime than if I didn't take it. You've done some excellent work, my friend."

"At best, you'll be physically in your forties," Waylon continued, "which is adequate, yes... I should thank you."

"Hm? For what?" Monty studied his hand. Not much progress yet, but it was looking smoother by the day.

"For volunteering to be the first to undergo the drug's effects."

"You say that as if you aren't sure how it's going to turn out. You've practically perfected it. Serum will be a great success. Don't be modest."

"I'm trying to be realistic. Even with fifteen years of development and now testing, it's unclear as to..."

"How long do you think it will take for my hair to change?" Monty asked, envisioning his hair turning brown and full again.

"You're so vain." Monty swore Waylon smiled. "But, it shouldn't be a long time, for you to notice..."

"I see." Monty grinned. "How many more tests do you need to run on me today? I thought we could do something fun, tonight, it feels like we haven't in a long time..."

"I'm going out with Evelyn tonight."

"Oh..." Monty huffed, "yes, your wife."

"This will only take two more minutes and thirty- twenty nine seconds, in total. Then you're free to go."

Monty sighed. "What are you doing before you go out with her?"

"Working."

"But, surely, you could stand to spend time with-" Monty tried.

"It's important, that I don't cut any corners on Serum in these final stages. I want it to succeed."

"And it will, Waylon, the entire world will know the name Serum... with my funding..." Monty almost flung up his arms to gesture, but then remembered he wasn't supposed to move. "After these trials are over, we're going to break ground on the company. Aren't you excited?"

"I will be, if this goes well- Monty, don't move- yes."

2084

Monty took a deep breath. Waylon had said today should be the very last injection. He'd taken Serum for two years; he felt as if he really had travelled back in time. And he'd remain this way for years to come, thanks to the function of Serum that provided longevity. He'd age, but very slowly, especially with how much of it now flowed through his veins.

"You can't ever take any more of this," Waylon said now. Monty nodded, glancing at his arm, where the needle had just retracted itself.

"I know that. But- aren't you impressed?" Monty smirked. "Look at me! I wouldn't recognise myself two years ago. You should be impressed with yourself, too; this wouldn't have been possible without you."

"Actually..." Waylon opened a file on his computer, projecting two side-by-side images into the room. "I pulled this together, as part of an introductory presentation on Serum."

Monty stared. "Oh, it's me!"

"Yes, on the left, at the beginning of your dosage, in June 2082, and the photo on the right is from yesterday." Waylon looked at him. "You're proof of a very successful process. Had I not known you or your history, I'd be under the impression we were around the same age."

"Yes..." Monty flexed his arm, which after two years wasn't sore from the many injections he'd had; he'd gotten used to them. "And now, Waylon- Serum will be revolutionary!" They had an ingenious product, and Monty's funding. They would be unstoppable.

24 December 2098

"Monty-"

"Hmm?" Monty tapped his screen off, to regard Waylon, stood in front of his desk. "Sit down, we haven't talked. You've been avoiding me to work on reports and such, and we're in the same office space, but still, you evade..."

"Monty," Waylon repeated, "my child is going to be born tomorrow. And I'm not avoiding you advertently."

"Oh? You didn't mention that before..." Monty frowned, thinking. "It's being born on Christmas?"
"I did. But I'm telling you again now. And yes."
"When's it going to be born?"

"At 09:41. The prenatal scans have indicated it will be a healthy male."
"And what are you going to name it?"

Waylon smiled. "Waylon Joseph Smithers, Junior."

Monty sighed. "I see you're continuing your own name. So I'll have to refer to them by Waylon Junior all the time? I see. That makes you Waylon Senior." He snorted. "And I'm older than you!"

"Unless they decide to change their name, yes."

"Mm."

Waylon finally sat down. "Listen, I do want to talk to you about something else. You don't have any interest in hiring any of those new...android assistants, right? For our corporate group here?"

Monty shook his head. "No, I think the group functions well without them. We already have mostly automated factories, except for the supervisors-"

"The factories don't have any assistants, though, those are just robots on the production lines, not androids-"

"I know. Perhaps one of the branches elsewhere might hire the assistants, but I think it's unnecessary, those things... although..." Monty gesticulated. "it would save us money, if we had employees in the group who we didn't have to pay..."
"No, Monty."

"Ah, fine." Monty crossed his legs. "Mm, you'll still come to the winter holiday party, won't you? If Waylon Jr is born in the morning... or are you going to spend the entire day and night fussing over them with Evelyn?"

"I might be late, but yes, I'll be there. I wouldn't miss it."

"Oh, that's right." Monty stared out the window, spun around in his chair, and turned back to Waylon. "But who will I talk to before you arrive?"

"You'll figure it out."

"I suppose so." Monty tented his fingers.

"Would you ever like to meet Waylon Jr?"

"I don't care for children. But, maybe, since they're yours." Monty shrugged. "I wouldn't mind."