Video recovered from deleted files, “Project Cockroach”, captured on Dr. McKeyla’s Athena Visor.
“No, you can’t do this! Help! Please, help me! Help meee-mfffgh!” the tiny man screamed.
Dr. McKeyla pressed the man’s head down into her gloved fist with her thumb, and then proceeded to squeeze until all his juices ran out. She opened her hand, sighed at the dead, scrunched up remains, and then closed her hand while she pulled the glove off, tossing the neat little garbage bag into the trash bin.
Charles, standing on the table, said, in a trembling voice: “H-He’s… he was right, you know, you… you can’t-”
Dr. McKeyla held up a massive hand for silence, blocking him completely from view while she wrote down notes, looking at the monitor readouts.
He stood quietly, regretting having spoken aloud, while she ignored him. Finally she put her pen down, swiveled around on her chair, and leaned in close, her face filling his vision.
“Now, what were you saying I can’t do?”
He swallowed, visibly to her even without the visor’s enhancement. His mind blanked and he could only stammer.
“Are you alright?” she asked, without any emotion. “You look pale. Are you able to do this job, like you said?”
He nodded, and backed away.
“Good. Next subject” she said, and turned away, focusing her attention on her computer while she snapped on new gloves.
A pneumatic thoomp heralded the arrival of the next person.
A man in plain clothes walked over on the table to Charles, who was fumbling with a vial he had dropped. “Hi,” the man said, “I’m Anthony, for the volunteer testing - hey buddy, you okay?”
Charles took a deep breath, steadying himself on his work table. “Yes,” he said. He walked over to the new arrival and asked him to roll up his sleeve and make a fist.
“Okay. Sorry to ask, but do you know how long this is going to take? I’ve been waiting for hours and I have a family to get back home to - woah, jeez! Are you sure you’re okay? You’re shaking like a leaf!”
Charles spun around and shouted. “I can’t do this! I can’t do this anymore, I quit, and - and I’m going to report you for human rights violations! And, and, murder!”
Dr. McKeyla, without turning from the monitor, put her hand out to him and held up one index finger, indicating she would be with him in one moment.
“Wait, what? Murder?” Anthony said.
“You should leave,” Charles said quietly.
But as he started nervously backing away, Dr. McKeyla said “Athena? Can you do Charlie’s job for him, please?
“Of course, Doctor.”
The shiny white robotic arm snaked down from above, and a tiny clamp extended from the tip, grabbing Anthony’s arm with surprising dexterity, and held him in place. The robot split into two, and the second limb snatched the syringe right out of Charles’ hand.
“No!” Charles shouted.
“What the hell is going on here?” Anthony yelled, trying to escape from the arm, but it held him with implacable grip.
“Please, remain calm Subject C5,” Athena said reassuringly as she injected him with the serum.
Dr. McKeyla held out her gloved hand, and Athena swung over and dropped the man into her palm. She closed her grip slowly around him, watching the monitor display the serum takeover progress. “You know Charlie, the only reason your job existed was to keep the subjects calm and unassuming. A relatable face when they walk in. Now Athena has to do it.”
When the serum’s spreading was done, Anthony’s name and vitals all showed up on screen. His heart and brain activity were racing, adrenaline pumping, and his bladder control was loosening.
Dr. McKeyla swung casually over to Charles, and placed her gloved fist right next to him, gently, on the table, as she loomed over him. Her towering latex fingers placed him in shadow. To his horror, he could hear Anthony struggling inside, muffled, shouting for help. She seemed to study Charles for a moment, or maybe just give him a chance to listen to the man in her hand.
“So,” she said eventually, evenly, her face showing no emotion, “you’re quitting, right now, and you’re going to report me for all those things you mentioned, is that it?”
Charles swallowed, his dry throat clicking, but he held his ground somehow. “...yes.”
“Done. I accept your resignation.”
Charles gaped, and said eventually: “... You do?”
“Of course. You’re well within your ‘rights’ to do so.”
“O…okay,” he said, and took one step backward. He froze as she spoke again:
“Speaking of ‘rights’; Athena, I have a question.”
“Yes Doctor?”
“Once these volunteers have become ‘subjects’, is there anything in the law about them having ‘human rights’?”
“No Doctor McKeyla. They become property of the NeoVancouver Size Institute, a vital branch of science research and humanitarianism owned by AthenaCorp and backed by the World Government. Human rights are revoked per article P-NE90 section G8-475, as a matter of national security. It’s in the NDA fine-print signed by all volunteers.”
“So everything I’ve been doing is approved by law, correct?”
“Of course, Doctor.”
A feeling of indescribably dread washed over Charles.
Dr. McKeyla continued: “Athena, if a member of this project who signed the non-disclosure act were to leave, that would be a security liability, yes?”
“Correct. Measures would need to be taken to ensure complete information containment.”
“Right. But if an employee were to quit, instantly, they would obviously not be an employee anymore. And if they weren’t working here, that would be trespassing in a secure facility - is that right, Athena?
“Yes Doctor.”
Charles could feel nothing all of a sudden, could barely focus. He vaguely heard the latex scrunching next to him, and Anthony’s cries became more strained and desperate.
Dr. McKeyla said: “Athena, remind me of one last thing: What rights do tiny trespassers have in private facilities?
“Size-afflicted beings trespassing on private property have any rights revoked, and may be dealt with by any means necessary.”
“Thank you Athena. I had almost forgotten.”
Dr. McKeyla squeezed her fist slowly. Charles, right next to her, heard every muffled scream, crunch of bone, and burst of organ, until Anthony’s blood ran out on the table in front of him. He was frozen, trembling, mind blank.
Dr. McKeyla didn’t bother looking at the monitor this time, only withdrew her hand, peeled off the glove and dropped it in the trash while maintaining eye-contact with Charles. “The way I see it, Charlie, is you have one chance to survive this.” A metal arm swung in front of him, holding a full syringe. “You’d better hope this one works.”
He didn’t know how long it took him to decide - everything was a slow blur. His heartbeat pounded in his ears. But eventually, as if in a trance, he took the syringe and somehow managed to inject his own arm. He wasn’t even sure he got it, but then he saw his own name appear in a haze of bright letters on the monitor way above him.
“Good choice,” Dr. McKeyla said.
Something clicked in Charle’s mind, and he began to run. It felt like a dream, running as though underwater. He didn’t know where he was going, but he had to get away. He ran and ran ran, until there was no ground left. He was floating. He was flying in the air. Had he died already, was he ascending to heaven?
No. He had been falling. He hit something suddenly. He didn’t feel a thing - probably the adrenaline - but he was looking at the floor, blurry. He was on the ground somehow. He saw… black objects, moving. Shoes. Giant, black, high heel pumps, with red soles, moving slowly toward him, like monoliths in a dream. He tried to get up, but his body didn’t respond. He couldn’t move, so he just lay there. Lay there until the shadow covered him, and he vaguely felt pressure on his back, but hardly any pain. He felt his legs and lower body go cold, and then he felt everything inside of him suddenly come gushing out of his mouth, hot this time, as it was all pressed forward, all his insides spewing forth. And then nothing.
“Tsk, tsk. Didn’t work,” Dr. McKeyla said, as the monitor showed Charles had died. She knew that already of course. When his spine broke from the fall, it was apparent, but she knew for sure when she crushed him underfoot and his guts all squirted out.
She leaned back in her chair and sighed, reflecting. She crossed her leg over her knee, and stared at the crushed body on her sole, dripping slowly, while she rested her head in her hand. She vaguely wondered why Charles had run straight off the table, but mostly her mind was on other things. Such as, how had she not thought of stepping on them earlier? I mean, it was more relevant to the point after all. She rubbed the palm of her hand. If she didn’t change the procedure anyway, she would probably end up with Carpal Tunnel. Plus, the current method was very messy.
“Athena, make note:”
“Yes Doctor?”
“First of all, order some of those new intramuscular injection smart-pens for tiny asses, please. I just remembered those exist now and I’m not going to rely on an assistant any longer.”
“IMSPs ordered.”
She thought for a few moments. “Next, call Savannah please.”
“Calling Savannah, Night Supervisor.”
Athena grabbed a monitor and hovered it in front of Dr. McKeyla. The screen showed a green phone and blinking ellipses, until a face appeared. The camera was pointing up at a young woman with dark ruby hair in a ponytail, wearing a headset and mic. The point of view must be from her handheld work tablet. She was walking and appeared distracted, issuing orders to someone else in her headset before noticing who was calling.
“Doc?” Savannah said.
“Hi, Sav. It’s been a while. Are you busy?”
“Hold on - everyone shut up for one second!... Okay. What’s up, Doc?”
“I’m working on something, and I need some janitorial personnel.”
“Okay, well I can send a couple women over if it’s an emergency. Chemical spill?
“No, actually, I need the small ones.”
Savanna frowned. “The tinies? Why, you need test subjects or something?”
“No, I have enough of those already. It’s for a big project, and I can’t say anything unless you sign an NDA first. But I need your special guys, what did you call them, the ones who deal with dirty work. And they have to sign the NDA as well.”
“Oh. Okay then. Well how long do you need them for?”
“All the time.”
“What do you mean, ‘all the time’?”
“All night long, steady, whenever I’m working.”
“…You’re requisitioning my crew!”
“…Yes?”
“I’m never getting them back.”
“Well, maybe in a few months if all goes well…?”
Savannah leaned her head back and sighed. “You’re killing me, Doc. Do you know how hard it is to get good Scrapers?”
“Oh right, that’s what you call them! I know. I’m sorry. Look, I’ll… pay you back somehow. Oh, I know. I think I have some around here...” Dr. McKeyla got up, took a couple steps and paused, looking down and cursing. She turned and reached for a tissue, and wiped off the bottom of her shoe. She shook the tissue at the camera. “This is why I need your little Scrapers!” She tossed it and started rooting around in cupboards. Athena followed her around, focusing briefly on a red footprint. “Ah! Eureka. Here it is. Remember my chemist friend?” She shook a small baggy in front of the camera. “Look, just come up here. Sign the NDA and I can tell you everything. I’m sure it’s fine with the higher-ups. And don’t give me that look!”
“Yup. I’m on my way.”
***
“Uffft… okay,” Dr. McKeyla said, inhaling from a bong they had cobbled together from lab equipment. “So you understand why I can’t tell you about it? Pfff.” She exhaled a cloud of smoke and waved it into the whirring laboratory fume hood, and passed the bong and torch to Savannah.
“Yep”, she said, lighting and inhaling. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. “I don’t want to know any government secrets anyway.” She exhaled a huge cloud toward the ceiling.
“Into the fan, Sav, damn it,” Dr. McKeyla said, taking it back for another.
“Oh, fuck. Sorry - long week.” Savannah rubbed her eyes.
“Ah, it’s fine. They don’t care how I work, as long as I work.”
“Lucky. It’s always me getting yelled at in the morning.”
“Mmm. I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll put in a good word.”
“Whatever, fuck them. It's fine." She leaned into the fume box and exhaled smoke. "Goddamn, you nerds make good shit.”
“Yes. Yes we do. So, I’m sorry about you losing your staff, but I need some scrapers on my team and I know you have the best ones. So, youre alright if I take some?”
Savannah sighed, with some exaggeration and rolling of eyes. “Yes, and don’t worry it’s fine. There are always more guys. I’ll get them to you tomorrow night. But you still owe me.”
“Of course. I can get more of this stuff easily. And other substances, if you’re interested.”
“Sure but… hey, when you’re done whatever it is you’re doing, invent me something to make my job easier, ok?
Dr. McKeyla thought about it. “Absolutely. That’s a deal.” She passed the bong again. “Athena?”
“Yes Doctor?”
“Prepare NDAs for several more assistants and add the new recruits to the tab, or whatever you would call it. But don’t record anything from the last fifteen minutes.”