Following Kiwi on three thin, surprisingly durable leashes were Specimens One, Three, and Four. The trio of genetically-engineered sentient kiwi fruits waddled unsteadily, their oversized, glued-on googly eyes jiggling with every movement. They emitted a series of soft, questioning chirps. “Commence cognitive navigation trial 7-B,” she stated to no one in particular, her voice a monotone drone in the quiet morning. She pulled a piece of chalk from her utility belt and drew a simple maze on the ground—a forking path with one correct route and two dead ends. “Proceed.”

Specimen One, always the most promising, immediately began to follow the primary path with a focused waddle. Specimens Three and Four, however, devolved into chaos. They bumped into one another, their chirps escalating in pitch and frequency. Three got its leash hopelessly tangled around a discarded, dented soda can, pulling it along with a clattering protest. Four, meanwhile, spotted a small, enticingly grey pebble and attempted to ingest it, making small gagging sounds.

Kiwi observed the divergence without a flicker of emotion. She nudged the pebble away from Specimen Four with the toe of her boot before pulling out her research journal. “Note: Social codependency in dyad units Three and Four continues to inhibit independent problem-solving. Tangle-inducement by environmental debris is a new data point. Dietary adjustments required for Specimen Four.”

Her pen scratched across the page. After a moment, she paused, her standard procedure dictating a full environmental scan for unaccounted variables. Her gaze swept methodically across the lot, cataloging the rusted dumpster, the flickering security light, the distant silhouette of the city. Then, it froze.

Across the lot, another figure was present. A human. Her pen stopped moving. The frantic chirps of her wayward kiwis faded into the background. All of her analytical focus, previously dedicated to her creations, shifted and locked onto this new variable. The subject was... an anomaly. A statistically significant deviation from the morning’s expected solitude. Kiwi lowered her journal slightly, her green eyes narrowing behind her glasses. “Interesting... Her presence here is statistically improbable.”