Specimen #19 examined each skull up close. From afar they looked uniform, but upon closer inspection, he noticed tiny imperfections in each of the domes.
A team oversaw 19’s progress through a magnified observation window twenty feet overhead.
“How terrible to be tiny,” Senior Scientist Dr. Dimojio said to no one in particular. “Imagine being unable to defend yourself against wasp or weather or even wind.” Dr. Dimojio’s comments gained a few genial nods from his fellow scientists, one pausing her note-taking to chug from a 60 oz coffee mug.
“3 to 1 odds he’ll be crushed by the end of the day.” Dr. Navel said, hoping to start a betting pool.
But, Dr. Dimojio interjected. “Nonsense. We’ve shortened the stacks by more than fifty percent since the last mistrial.”
“Well, the probability generator clearly states 3 to 1 odds of survival.”
“You mammoths would do well to remember how megally important this job is. So let’s stop treating #19 like a racehorse and get back to our roles.”
The room fell silent. The test subject inched forward and took out his measuring tape. #19 had been bred for one purpose, and based on the number of craniums in the room, he was fairly certain he had at least a few more hours of job security.
He went about measuring the first skull. Signaling the skull vault and collecting carbon samples from the farthest back molars.
#19 had been told his work was vital. His mission, to determining if human growth was finally leveling off or increasing, and while he’d been promised a year-long trip to the breading pod should he be successful, he had no faith in what the man mountains said.
Tiny hands were needed for the task, but what good would an educated miniature be after the mission’s end?
#19 took his time, contemplating his next steps. After all, he was still dangerous even if he lacked mass.
©2024 | K.F. Hartless
Cover Art: A visitor looks at the work titled “Mass,” by Australian-born artist Ron Mueck, at Triennale di Milano, in Milan, Italy, on January 9, 2024.





Leave a reply to John Cancel reply