SCP-6857 : The Birthday Problem

Foundation statisticians at Central Analytics have noted an unusually high rate of identical births in Nevada over the past year. This phenomenon prompted Central Analytics to launch an investigation to determine the root cause of the statistical abnormality.

The investigation was led by statistician Dr. Caroline Fischer, who visited Site-56 to rule out any connection to SCP-6857.

Video camera footage starting at 1437 hours.

Site-56 offices, conference room 6. Dr. Caroline Fischer and Dr. Lucas Isakov are in the midst of a discussion, seated on opposite sides of a conference table.

Dr. Isakov: –and you were the one who tracked it down, correct?

Dr. Fischer: That's right.

Dr. Isakov: It must have been a bit of – how you say – "needle in haystack," no?

Dr. Fischer: Well, once I found that all the mothers had visited the drug store, it was straightforward enough. You just need to notice patterns, find the common thread.

Dr. Isakov nods.

Dr. Fischer: Speaking of which, we should probably get down to business.

Dr. Isakov: Ah! Yes, well, before that, I would like to clarify. Is this, uh– statistical anomaly have any chance of being pure coincidence?

Dr. Fischer: No. Well, yes, but infinitesimally small. The fact that these siblings are only being born in Nevada, specifically to people with Foundation ties–

Dr. Isakov: Foundation ties?

Dr. Fischer: Yes. 52% of affected individuals are either a Foundation employee, or related to one. Spouses and daughters, mostly.

Dr. Isakov: And the remaining 48%?

Dr. Fischer: Well, they'd account for the baseline rate of identical sibling births. Roughly four in every thousand births are identical twins, and we've been seeing twice that for the last 12 months - but only in a 200 kilometer radius. Or so.

Dr. Fischer produces a thin binder from her attaché case.

Dr. Fischer: My preliminary report suggests that there may be some kind of covert operation against the Foundation. I'll be working with on-site security to audit SCP-6857's containment procedures. I hope that’s not a problem.

Dr. Fischer slides the report binder across the conference table. Dr. Isakov gives it a sidelong glance. He drums his fingers against the table erratically.

Dr. Isakov: A strange way to sabotage us.

Dr. Fischer: Agreed. But something must be causing these numbers. I'm just trying to rule out SCP-6857.

Dr. Isakov reaches for the binder. He opens it and begins to read. Dr. Fischer opens a notebook and clicks her pen.

Dr. Fischer: I'd like to start by asking a few questions about the containment procedures. They mention that SCP-6857's enclosure must comply with the maximum security requirements for a Safe object. Have there been security incidents with the object in the past?

Dr. Isakov: No, not that I am, ah, knowing of.

Dr. Isakov turns to the next page of the report while Dr. Fischer writes.

Dr. Fischer: Okay. The procedures also make mention of "testing scenarios." Could you elaborate on what these scenarios entail?

Dr. Isakov: I cannot.

Dr. Fischer looks up from her notes.

Dr. Fischer: Why is that?

Dr. Isakov closes the report and places it back on the desk.

Dr. Isakov: You lack the security clearances–

Dr. Fischer: Then I'll go back to Central Analytics and get them. They think this represents a credible threat to the Foundation–

Dr. Isakov: I must disagree.

Dr. Isakov's gaze flickers to the camera. Dr. Fischer sighs.

Dr. Fischer: Okay. The containment procedures imply that Foundation personnel are used for testing. I take it that means Class-D?

There is a pause.

Dr. Fischer: Why not use in vitro fertilization? Wouldn't that be more suited to a laboratory environment?

There is a pause.

Dr. Fischer: I'm assuming you need a fertilized zygote for your tests. Do the Class-D get pregnant?

There is a pause.

Dr. Fischer: Do they carry to ter–

Dr. Isakov: Unfortunately, Dr. Fischer, I cannot be of any further assistance to this inquiry.

Video camera footage starting at 1602 hours.

Site-56 Records Office. Casey Griswold, Archivist, sits behind a plexiglass partition. Dr. Fischer enters the room.

Dr. Fischer: Hey, Casey.

Griswold: My favorite study buddy! I did check, we don't have any record of security incidents pertaining to the skip you were asking about. None that I'm cleared to see, anyway.

Dr. Fischer: That's fine. I actually have–

Griswold: So how are you doing? How's life? It seems like you're really… on the go these days!

Dr. Fischer is visibly caught off-guard, but quickly relaxes.

Dr. Fischer: Ha, yeah, Central Analytics has kept me pretty busy. I can't talk too much about it, of course–

Griswold: Of course.

Dr. Fischer: –but I'm actually getting stonewalled right now on the 6857 thing. I'm hoping you can pull some more files for me.

Griswold: Shoot.

Dr. Fischer: I'm looking for…

Dr. Fischer hesitates as she formulates a query.

Dr. Fischer: I'm looking for a list of all Class-D personnel that have participated in the testing of SCP-6857. Will there be visible records on that?

Griswold: There might be. Redactions on Class-D tend to be hit or miss…

Griswold trails off as she taps at her keyboard. There is a long pause.

Dr. Fischer: How are the kids?

Griswold continues tapping at the keys.

Griswold: Oh, they're doing great. I actually got a stipend for a full-time babysitter, which has been a fucking lifesaver, honestly.

Dr. Fischer: Oh, nice!

Griswold: Yeah, I'm just hoping they remember who their real mother is when I get home…

Griswold trails off again. She presses one final key.

Griswold: Oh, you're in luck. I've got over a hundred matches here. I'll e-mail the list to you. All signed off on by one Dr. Isakov. Our lonely Russian geneticist.

Dr. Fischer: Lonely?

Griswold: Haven't you seen his sad little eyes?

Dr. Fischer looks at Griswold quizzically.

Griswold: I– I probably shouldn't gossip, I'm sorry, he's– he's a sweetheart.

Dr. Fischer chuckles.

Dr. Fischer: I think this job has done a number on you, Casey, cooped up in here. Doesn't suit you.

Griswold: Ha, don't even start. Alright, you should have the files now.

Dr. Fischer: Excellent, thanks. I'd love to catch up more, but I have to get down to Light Containment–

Griswold: Oh, by all means. Go do your statistician, math whiz thing.

Dr. Fischer: Thanks, Casey. Oh, and tell David and Eliot that Auntie Caroline says hi.

Griswold waves as Dr. Fischer exits. Griswold swivels back and forth in her chair. She glances at the clock.

Video camera footage starting at 1626 hours.

Site-56 Light Containment. Interview room D-10. Dr. Fischer enters, accompanied by an armed guard.

Dr. Fischer: –anks again for setting this up on such short notice.

The guard nods. Dr. Fischer takes a seat at one end of the interview table. A buzzer sounds, and D-16562 enters the room. He sits.

Dr. Fischer: Oh, uh–

Dr. Fischer reaches for her attaché case and removes a printout. She looks back and forth between D-16562 and the paper. She looks at the guard.

Dr. Fischer: This is D-16562?

D-16562: I already told you, my name is–

Guard: Shut it.

The guard turns toward Dr. Fischer.

Guard: Something wrong?

Dr. Fischer: No, no– it's fine.

Dr. Fischer readjusts herself in her seat and addresses D-16562.

Dr. Fischer: Okay. I just have a few questions for you today. When was your most recent testing assignment?

D-16562: Uh, about three weeks ago.

Dr. Fischer: Can you tell me about it?

D-16562 grimaces. He stares at the guard.

D-16562: No. Of course not.

Dr. Fischer follows D-16562's gaze.

Guard: We would have amnesticized him, ma'am. Standard procedure.

Dr. Fischer: Ah, right. Uh, can you account for your activities two days ago, at–

D-16562: Where do you think I was at, you f–

The guard suddenly steps towards D-16562, raising the stock of his assault rifle. D-16562 and Dr. Fischer both visibly flinch.

D-16562: Alright, fuck. Sorry. I had a double shift in the kitchen that day. Midnight to 4 PM. We're short-staffed.

D-16562 glares at the guard, who lowers his weapon.

Dr. Fischer: But you do remember it. So you couldn't have been on any testing assignment during that time.

D-16562 shrugs.

D-16562: I guess so.

Dr. Fischer: Okay. Then that's everything I need.

Dr. Fischer stands.

Dr. Fischer: Thanks for your cooperation, I'll, uh– try to put in a good word for you.

D-16562 scoffs as Dr. Fischer leaves.

Video camera footage starting at 0931 hours.

Site-56 offices, conference room 6. Dr. Fischer is already seated at the conference table with reference materials laid out in front of her. Dr. Isakov enters.

Dr. Fischer: Lucas, welcome.

Dr. Isakov: Hello, Caroline.

The door swings gently shut behind Dr. Isakov as he sits at the table. There is a pause. Dr. Fischer takes a deep breath.

Dr. Fischer: So, I have a list of your Class-D test subjects.

Dr. Fischer gestures to one of the binders laid out before her. Dr. Isakov shifts in his seat and glances at the camera.

Dr. Fischer: Do you know how many of the Class-D on that list are cis men? Way more than half. If you're testing the null hypothesis in there, you're doing a bang-up job.

Dr. Isakov fidgets. There is a pause.

Dr. Fischer: Are these test logs fake?

Dr. Isakov: I do not think this to be a productive discussion, Caroline–

Dr. Fischer: Because it seems like these Class-D subjects were just chosen randomly–

Dr. Isakov: No, that's not–

Dr. Fischer: –and you'd only bother faking that if you needed to smuggle someone else into SCP-6857's enclosure. And I know who.

Dr. Isakov slumps into his chair and sighs. Dr. Fischer pats the second binder in front of her.

Dr. Fischer: The dates on your tests match up, roughly, with the dates of identical sibling births across the state - separated by the average pregnancy term length. There are exceptions.

There is a pause.

Dr. Fischer: Why, Lucas? Why risk your career for–

Dr. Isakov: Ha!

Dr. Fischer: Wha– is this funny to you?

Dr. Isakov: No, no, it's– never mind.

Dr. Fischer: Well?

Dr. Isakov gives a desperate look to the camera, wringing his hands. Dr. Fischer keeps her eyes trained on him.

Dr. Fischer: Do you have anything to say for yourself? Anything at all?

Dr. Isakov: I– I do not.

There is a long pause. Dr. Fischer slowly looks over her shoulder and makes eye contact with the camera. She rips a piece of paper out of a binder and starts writing on it, but the writing is not visible from this angle. She folds the paper and slides it across the table to Dr. Isakov.

Dr. Fischer: Okay. What about this?

Dr. Isakov opens the paper and peers at it. His eyes go wide, but the writing is still not visible from this angle. He folds the paper again and blinks twice at Dr. Fischer.

Dr. Isakov: Can you really do that?

Dr. Fischer: Shh.

Dr. Fischer pulls her phone out of her pocket. The Central Analytics department logo is visible on her phone before Dr. Fischer moves it underneath the conference table. She keeps her eyes trained on her phone.

Dr. Fischer: Just wait a bit.

Dr. Fischer places her phone face down on the table and exhales. There is a pause. Dr. Fischer's phone buzzes.

Dr. Fischer: Okay, we should be–

VIDEO FOOTAGE CORRUPTED

Video camera footage starting at 1202 hours.

Site-56 cafeteria. Dr. Isakov is seated and eating amongst other Foundation employees, while others are still filtering into the room.

Intercom: This is a site-wide announcement.

Most of the employees in the cafeteria immediately put down their food and listen attentively. A group of junior researchers continue their conversation, but are hushed by Dr. Isakov. There is a pause before the intercom emits a burst of static, followed by Dr. Fischer’s voice.

Dr. Fischer: I– hello. I'm afraid I have some troubling news to share.

Dr. Isakov quickly stands and begins walking briskly out of the cafeteria. Dr. Fischer speaks rapidly.

Dr. Fischer: There's a group of people in the Foundation, and they– all they do is try to keep you here. You might not realize it, but you– we're fully dependent on the Foundation. In every aspect of our lives.

There is a pause. Those remaining in the cafeteria are visibly confused.

Dr. Fischer: They want you to have kids, kids that you can only afford on Foundation salaries. They’ve manipulated you, some of you, into doing just that. And after that, they–

Site-56 hallway. Dr. Isakov continues briskly down the hallway.

Dr. Fischer: –they kidnapped some of you, some of your loved ones.

A squad of guards rounds the corner in front of Dr. Isakov. All four of them are wearing gas masks. Dr. Isakov stops in his tracks.

Dr. Fischer: They brought you back here, to make sure you'd have even more kids.

A security guard points at Dr. Isakov. Dr. Isakov turns and sprints away. The guards give chase.

Dr. Fischer: And they gave you amnestics, so you'd forget everything.

Site-56 Records Office. Casey Griswold stares at the intercom speaker from behind her partition.

Dr. Fischer: I know it sounds insane. Uh, I have a list of the victims here.

There is a pause.

Dr. Fischer: Casey Griswold. You were forced to have twins. I'm sorry.

Griswold stares into the distance.

Dr. Fischer: David Arbuckle. Your daughter was brought here last year before she had twins.

A white, fog-like gas begins to seep into the room from a vent. Griswold looks at the gas, wide-eyed, and backs away.

Dr. Fischer: Norah Matthews. You had triplets.

Griswold scrambles to her desk, grabs a pen, and starts writing frantically. Tendrils of gas spread throughout the room.

Dr. Fischer: Josef Evans. Your wife was brought here.

The gas reaches Griswold. The effect is immediate: she becomes sluggish and her eyes close. She collapses onto the floor.

Site-56 cafeteria. The large room is obscured by gas, but some unconscious bodies are barely visible near the camera.

Dr. Fischer: Katelyn Nguyen. You…

Dr. Fischer's speech begins to slur.

Dr. Fischer: You… had…

There is a pause. A guard wearing a gas mask stalks through the cafeteria. The intercom clicks.

Intercom: Announcement concluded. Please return to your regular schedule.

Video camera footage starting at 1545 hours.

Site-56, Subfloor 41. Panic Room. The walls are adorned with ochre curtains, and the floor is lined with a plush red carpet.

There is only one piece of furniture in the room: a cabinet with a clear top half and opaque bottom half, resembling the enclosure of an automated fortune teller. The cabinet is engraved with elaborate floral patterns.

A chime is heard as the elevator door opens. Dr. Fischer, blindfolded, is shoved out of the elevator by two guards and collapses onto the carpet. Another chime is heard as the elevator door closes.

Dr. Fischer: Fuck–

Dr. Fischer stumbles to her feet.

Dr. Fischer: Hello?

Dr. Fischer removes her blindfold. She glances around the room, giving the cabinet a cursory examination. Seeing no obvious exit, Dr. Fischer turns around and pounds on the elevator doors.

Dr. Fischer: Hey! Hello?

The cabinet in the middle of the room begins to emit a warped melody. White lights strobe up and down the cabinet display. Dr. Fischer whirls to face the cabinet. She warily approaches it as the melody abruptly stops.

Dr. Fischer: What is this? What are you h–

Cabinet: Wahhh!

A baby marionette wriggles inside the cabinet, near its ceiling. At the floor of the cabinet, crude cardboard flames dance, propelled by some shifting mechanism in the cabinet. The baby is steadily lowered toward the flames.

Dr. Fischer: What the fuck–

Cabinet: Waaaahhhh!

Dr. Fischer presses the single button on the cabinet. It has no discernible effect.

Cabinet: Waaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh!

Dr. Fischer presses the button again multiple times before turning away from the cabinet and addressing the room, speaking over the cacophony of the cabinet.

Dr. Fischer: I don't know what this is, I don't know what you want from me, I–

Cabinet: WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

The baby is now perilously close to the flames. The sound of wailing permeates the room as the baby reaches the flames.

AUDIO EXPUNGED

Dr. Fischer reflexively slams her palms against her ears. She sinks to her knees. She is visibly in agony.

The button on the cabinet lights up. Dr. Fischer sees the illuminated button and struggles to her feet. Keeping her hands clasped to her ears, she pushes the button with her elbow.

AUDIO RESTORED

Dr. Fischer takes her hands off her head - the crying has stopped. She breathes heavily as she sits down against a wall.

Cabinet: There is still fire in your eyes, Caroline.

Dr. Fischer: I don't– I don't know what that means–

Cabinet: Wahhh!

Dr. Fischer scrambles desperately towards the cabinet. The button is still lit. She pushes it. The wailing stops.

Cabinet: There is still fire in your eyes, Caroline.