Page 99 of Dr. Stone

“One day, I’ll give you a tour of this whole place.”

“I’d love that.”

“Give me a second to call Brandt,” I said, dialing his number.

“Stone, how goes it, buddy?” Cam said when he answered my call.

“Hey, dude, all good over here, but I’m curious, is the airplane hangar empty?”

“Sure is, why? Are you and Jake planning to take another flight and get into one of your imaginary dogfights like you’re in jets instead of a tiny Cessna?”

“We still need to get more points on the scoreboard for that. You know you loved it,” I laughed. “But no dogfights today. Andie’s here, and I wanted to show her little boy the simulator.”

“Oh, he’s going to love it. How’s the little guy doing, anyway?”

“Great. You know, just stealing my heart and all.”

“Never thought the day would come when I’d hear you say those words,” he chuckled. “That’s great, man. Well, I have rounds, so I won’t be able to meet you guys down there, but go hard and have fun with it.”

“Thanks, Cam,” I said before ending the call. “Let’s get this boy in a flight simulator.”

The momentthe sliding glass doors opened to admit us into the simulation hangar, Brandon let out a soft, “Whoa.”

“Holy shit,” Andie said, her fingers interlaced with mine while I held Brandon.

“Right? This shit is unhinged,” I said. “This entire pediatric hospital sits in a world of its own.”

“Who came up with all of this?”

“Some Silicon Valley genius backed by Mitchell and Associates funding,” I chuckled. “This newest section, though, is unparalleled to anything here so far.”

“It doesn’t even feel like we’re in a hospital anymore,” she said. “I suppose that’s the point for the sick kids who are forced to live here.”

“That’s exactly the point. Of course, we also want to give the kids something extra, especially those less fortunate than others their age who are healthier and able to live life on their terms.”

“Amazing,” she said.

We walked on shimmering floors coated with blue and silver gloss, the entire space designed to mimic a luxury aircraft hangar. Ambient lighting set the mood, and at the center stood five full-scale Cessna simulators.

“They just finished this two months ago,” I said. “It’s probably been more of a hit with us overworked doctors on our lunch breaks than with the kids.”

“Jesus, this is like a Pixar version of a NASA training center,” Andie said as we approached the simulator.

“Are you ready to fly an airplane?” I asked Brandon.

“Yes,” he squealed, having been silently in awe on our entire walk through the hangar.

We approached, and the plane’s door automatically opened for us. Once inside, the doors to the unit closed behind us as we settled into the captain and co-pilot seats.

“Looks like we got the captain’s chair since,” I pointed at Brandon, sitting on my lap, reaching for the steering mechanisms, “it’s this guy’s flight.”

“Hell yeah, it is,” Andie said with a laugh of disbelief.

As soon as we clicked our seatbelts, the lights dimmed, and a soft light above our heads in the cockpit flickered on.

“Welcome to your Dream Flight experience. Please select your destination,” a futuristic woman’s voice alerted us after all the touchscreen panels came to life.

A huge holographic map was displayed before us in the air and above the console of the plane. I reached out to the shimmering coastline that stretched from Santa Monica to Santa Barbara and selected that as the location we’d take our first flight.