SCP - 038 "The Everything Tree"
Object Class - Safe
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Scene: A dimly lit containment chamber at Site-23. Dr. Klein stands beside SCP-038, a large, unassuming tree with glowing bark that occasionally flickers. Two technicians, Lisa and Mark, prepare to water the tree.
Dr. Klein: (frowning) Remember, keep the hazmat suits on. We don't want any accidental cloning of personnel today.
Lisa: Got it, Dr. Klein. Just another routine watering. I still find it strange how such a normal-looking tree can do this.
Mark: Yeah, I mean, cloning apples is one thing, but I'd rather not see a clone of my cat pop out of that bark.
Dr. Klein: (sternly) That's why we're strict about what we clone. No personal items, no animals, and definitely no food or drinks. Remember the recent request to stop cloning vending machine snacks?
Lisa: (laughs softly) Yeah, I read Dr. Klein's memo. No more potato chips from the vending machine—those clones didn't taste right.
Dr. Klein: Exactly. We've had enough surprises. Now, proceed with the watering. And if the mister breaks, hand-water only until it's fixed.
Lisa and Mark begin watering SCP-038. The tree's bark flickers briefly.
Mark: Hey, Dr. Klein, do we know why it clones so fast? Minutes to grow a full watermelon—that's insane.
Dr. Klein: That's part of the problem. The growth rate's astonishing. But the clones don't live long. Usually about two weeks before they start fermenting or decaying. The clones of humans and animals age rapidly and tend to die even sooner.
Lisa: I still don't get how it can clone anything. It's just a tree, right?
Dr. Klein: Not quite. SCP-038's bark contains a form of biological replication, but it can also clone inorganic objects if they're small enough, under 200 pounds. That's why we have strict controls.
Suddenly, the lights flicker.
Mark: Uh-oh. Looks like the mister's acting up again.
Lisa: I'll handle it. Cover the tree.
Lisa approaches the overhead mister, wearing her hazmat suit. As she adjusts the nozzle, a faint shimmer appears on the bark.
Lisa: (muttering) Hope I don't accidentally clone myself.
She turns the water back on, and the tree's bark flickers again.
Dr. Klein: Remember, no cloning personal items or food. And no cloning anything from the vending machines.
Lisa: (smirking) Got it, Doc. No cloned candy bars today.
Later, in the containment lounge, Dr. Klein reviews recent test logs, frowning.
Dr. Klein: (reading aloud) Cloning SCP-173… halts at exactly 200 pounds. That's fascinating. The growth seems to be limited by weight.
Mark: So, if I touch the bark with my phone, I could get a clone of my device? Or is it more complicated?
Dr. Klein: It's more complicated. Cloning non-biological objects is possible, but the clones are unstable and often incomplete. Plus, the process is slow and unpredictable.
Lisa: (chuckling) Maybe I should try cloning my coffee mug. Then I'd always have a spare.
Dr. Klein: Be cautious. Remember the last time someone tried cloning food. The clones ferment and decay quickly. We don't need a microbial outbreak.
Suddenly, a faint movement is observed inside a contained glass chamber. A tiny, slow-moving figure of SCP-173 begins gesturing—though no one is watching it directly.
Mark: Is it… moving? Even when we're not looking?
Dr. Klein: (nodding grimly) Yes. The clones continue moving regardless of observation, just at a much slower rate. That's one of the dangerous quirks of SCP-038's clones.
Lisa: So, we could be unknowingly creating slow-moving threats?
Dr. Klein: Exactly. That's why we keep a close eye and limit what's cloned.
He pauses, glancing back at the tree.
Dr. Klein: Remember, SCP-038 isn't a toy. It's a dangerous piece of anomalous biology. Use it responsibly.
The scene fades out as the team continues their routine, aware of the potential consequences lurking within the unassuming orchard.
End.