.04 RESEARCH

Over the rest of the week, Mianna found she still hadn't learned much useful information from 2027, but she enjoyed their conversations.

He was brilliant, sharp as needles. Long hours of sitting alone in his cell had done nothing to dull his intellect, or his wit. Someone like him to talk to would have been useful during her entrance exams to the Foundation – his head was built for numbers and equations, and Mianna's was not. She had very nearly failed the mathematical portion of her exam.

He could do ridiculous operations all in his head. Curious, Mianna had started bringing a calculator along with her, and checking his results. He was nearly always correct.

When he was in a good mood, she was Mianna, when he wasn't, he called her "Doctor", sharp, angry emphasis on the consonants. She'd cautiously tried to ask about Incident-2027-1 a few more times, but it always made him angry. He'd snap at her sometimes, but he'd always immediately apologize. He was temperamental, but she could tell he hadn't mean to upset her, and his apologies were sincere. He was sweet. She forgave him.

Mianna knew she wasn't supposed to be his friend. She wasn't supposed to be talking to him like this. When Cullyn or Dr. Kondraki asked her about how her research was going, she'd vaguely sum it up, or sometimes rapidly change the subject. Cullyn thought nothing of it. Kondraki was starting to become suspicious.

"It's good at math?" he asked one night at dinner, frowning into his clam chowder.

"Yes, and it's well-read. It's especially fond of H. P. Lovecraft's works..."

"Dr. Skyroko," Kondraki said seriously, setting down his spoon. "How is this progressing your research?"

Mianna was startled. "Oh... well... I..."

"I'm all for winging it, I understand just trying anything that pops into your head, and seeing if it works. But you've got to have a goal in mind if you're ever going to get anywhere with it." Mianna wasn't sure how to read his expression, but she thought he looked worried. "So, get a goal. Make everything you do a step towards that goal."

"Well – I do sort of have a goal."

"And what's that?"

"I want to get 2027 to open up to me about Incident-2027-1. There wasn't very much about it in the report, and I think I'll have a better understanding of my subject as a whole if I know more about it."

Kondraki then looked very worried. "Be careful, Mianna. If there's not much in the report, they might not want you to know about it."

"I know, but how can they expect me to do research if I don't know anything about it?"

Kondraki didn't appear to have an argument. "Be careful, that's all I'm saying."

Mianna seemed to forget all that when she went back. 2027 was easy to talk to, it was easy to forget she was in a facility that contained dangerous anomalies, it was easy to forget that she was speaking to him over an intercom, and they were separated by a foot-thick concrete wall.

"When I was an intern researcher once I got lost," she was telling him one day. "I went with the wrong group. I was supposed to be on Safe detail for the day, but the group I followed was going to study 106! So as they're describing the thing, all I can think is, 'Wait, this doesn't sound safe at all!' And then I saw the number on the cell and I knew I'd gone to the wrong place."

2027 was watching her with an amused smile. "So what did you do?"

"Well, I turned around and tried to leave, but the supervisor saw me and said 'Where do you think you're going? You don't get to leave just because you're scared!' And I tried to explain to him that I'd gone with the wrong group, but he wouldn't hear it. So I got to sit there and listen to him talk about how they weren't entirely sure if they had 106 fully contained. I thought we were all going to die. Then later I found out that the group I was supposed to be with got to spend the entire day playing with SCP-999." She sighed, but was laughing slightly. "And that's why I got really good at learning my supervisors' names and faces."

"I don't think I know about 999 or 106." He looked up at her expectantly.

"They call 999 the 'Tickle Monster'," she explained. "It's just a big blob of orange gelatin. And when you touch it, you just – you get really happy. It always wants to hug everyone... It's cute." She frowned. "106, on the other hand, is a predatory humanoid that rules over an alternate dimension, and pulls anyone with a debilitating injury, like a broken leg, into that dimension. When it spits them back out again... Sometimes they're dead, but they usually come back still alive. With acid burns. They never live more than a few hours."

Surprisingly, he seemed to find that amusing. "Kills them slowly. I'd like to break a few legs and watch that happen."

It was always just slightly jarring when he said things like that, but Mianna was growing used to it. "I think you need a spell in 999's pen."

"Hmm, I doubt that would help my murderous intent. My grudges are pretty strong," he said, albeit mostly playfully.

Mianna realized she hadn't taken any notes. "Don't you want to be happy, though?"

After a pause, "I am happy. I don't need 999 for that, I've got you."

Mianna blinked at him, sure that this time she was blushing.

But his expression as he looked back turned grim. "How much longer do you have here?"

"I'm not sure," she said, suddenly anxious about it herself. "But we're only in the first week. Don't worry too much about it yet." She didn't want to think about it – she didn't want to be assigned anywhere else.

"Only a week, eh? Feels like longer."

"That's because we've spent almost 30 hours talking," she said, standing. "I'm going to get some lunch. I'll be back."

"I'll be counting the seconds," he said, and she doubted he was kidding. "There are 1800 in 30 minutes, in case you were wondering."

"I wasn't," she laughed, "But good to know." She stepped away from the controls and walked out into the hallway, spring in her step as she made her way to the cafeteria.

Ismaire was already there, and she waved when Mianna walked in. She grabbed a plate of salad before moving over to sit across from her. She'd been spending all her lunch breaks with Ismaire, partially because she was the only person Mianna had talked to.

"I can't stand that kid who comes to relieve me every day," Ismaire said. She was too casual to bother with greetings, most of the time. "He's so depressed. He always looks at me like he's expecting me to say something like, 'Oh, no, don't worry, you don't have to relieve me. Go on home, kid, I'll stand here all day'. Nope, no thank you, see ya."

Mianna laughed. "He looks at me like that too."

"You've been truncating your lunch breaks," Ismaire then pointed out. "Is your work really that fascinating? I wish I got that excited about my job."

"Well... Yes, it is really interesting. I'm enjoying it a lot."

Ismaire smirked at her. "It's not just cause he's cute, is it? I've seen the file, you know."

"Wh-what? No! Of course not!" Mianna glared at her. "No, that... Has nothing to do with it." It really didn't, actually, although... It certainly wasn't hurting anything.

"Whatever." But Ismaire was laughing.

Mianna huffed. "Where are your other assignments?" She realized she had never asked.

"Well, after lunch, I sleep, and my night shift is 682. I start guarding 2027 around four in the morning."

"My brother guards 682 during the day, but he's on a longer shift, I think. That's his only assignment."

Ismaire nodded. "Yeah. Some of these guys, they can handle just doing one thing, but I like to switch around. I get way too bored in one place." She thoughtfully drank down her soda. "682 doesn't scare me all that much, you know."

"Really? It doesn't?"

Ismaire looked more gravely serious than Mianna had ever seen her. "Mianna, of all the ways to die in this place, the SCPs themselves are the least of my worries. They should be the least of yours, too."

Mianna thought back to what 2027 had said. At least the guards know they're being used by this operation.

Ismaire shrugged, standing and taking her tray. "Anyway, have fun with your boyfriend." She messed up Mianna's hair, and darted away, cackling, before Mianna could do anything about it.


Mianna was planning to spend most the next day, her day off, in her apartment. As it turned out, Ismaire's day off coincided with hers, and somehow, she'd found out where Mianna lived.

"How did you find my apartment?" she asked incredulously when she opened her door to find Ismaire standing there. Ismaire shrugged and walked in without being invited, so Mianna simply shut the door behind her. "That's supposed to be classified information."

"You might have left your key-card in the cafeteria after dinner yesterday." Ismaire reached into her shirt and handed it over, and Mianna hesitantly accepted it. "You're gettin' a bit spacey. I'd watch it if I was you."

"Thank you," Mianna said, and she was grateful, cursing herself for making such a stupid mistake. She nodded to a bag slung over Ismaire's shoulder. "What's that?"

"DVDs," Ismaire replied with a mischievous grin. "We don't have cable anywhere, but there's an assload of movies in the rec room. I figured you could use a movie day after working so hard."

Mianna sighed. "Are you allowed to do that?"

"No," Ismaire laughed, "but who cares? Where's your remote?"


Mianna felt less rested than ever after her movie-marathon with Ismaire – she hadn't watched a movie in years, and probably hadn't ever watched that many in a row. She'd forgotten how exhausting it was.

The day went slowly, after the movies – There wasn't a lot to do, and Mianna found herself happy to return to work in the morning. Ismaire didn't seem to share her enthusiasm.

"What's wrong with you?"

"I had a date after I went home last night," Ismaire grumbled.

"A date?" That was an unusual thing to hear. "With who?"

"Jack Daniels," Ismaire said, rubbing her forehead. "It's a standing date. Every Friday."

"Oh." Mianna laughed. "Have a banana. It'll help."

"Yeah, okay mom."

Mianna ignored her and swiped her key card, entering the observation deck. She carried only her notepad with her now, and none of the files. She didn't need them any more, she figured.

"Mianna?" She heard 2027 say over the intercom. He sounded odd. She walked over to the window, frowning.

"Yeah, I'm here." He looked panicked, but seemed to relax on seeing her.

"You weren't here yesterday," he explained. "I thought you weren't coming back."

Mianna rubbed her forehead. "Oh, I... I forgot to tell you it was my day off. Every Friday."

"Oh." He looked unsure of what to do with himself, and fidgeted. "Well... Good."

Mianna sat in her chair and frowned at him. "You look awful," she observed. And he did. His eyes were distant and unfocused, dark shadows under them.

"I haven't been sleeping, really. You come to talk to me in the morning. I can't really sleep at night, I get too restless. And I waited for you all day yesterday."

"Oh," Mianna said, feeling guilty. "Well... Why don't I start coming at night, then?"

"Can you do that?" he asked.

"Sure," she said with a nod. "As long as I work a full shift, they don't care when it is."

And so, over the next week, she gradually started coming in later, and later, until she was sleeping when the sun was up, and waking as it went down. It was a difficult adjustment, and she'd missed quite a few dinners, but 2027 was much more energetic and lively in the nighttime hours. He'd perked up and looked much better after a few days of getting enough rest.

Cullyn, Kondraki, and Ismaire had taken note of Mianna's increasing absences, though.

"Where've you been?" Kondraki asked her one night with a smirk. "Working hard?"

"Yeah," she replied as she sat down across from him, next to Cullyn. Ismaire was here at the table too, but like Mianna, this was breakfast for her, not dinner.

"Yeah, I haven't seen you in the mornings. Or at lunch."

"SCP-2027 is nocturnal, and I think being awake in the mornings was starting to have an impact on its health. So I switched over to going at night," Mianna explained, yawning.

Cullyn looked concerned. "You're actually worried about what's better for the SCP?" he asked.

"It's a good call, from a research standpoint. It may behave differently at a different time of day, and since Mianna is the only researcher, she'll have to make those observations herself," Kondraki defended, then looked to Mianna. "Though, I do hope you've got a goal in mind for doing this."

"Of course," Mianna answered, and he left it alone, but still looked skeptical.

It took a while to adjust. Mianna found herself sleepy and yawning through a lot of conversations with 2027, which seemed to concern him.

"Are you sure you want to keep working this shift, Mianna?" he asked, for the millionth time.

"Yes, I'm sure," Mianna replied, for the millionth time. She then thought of something that she'd somehow managed to go all this time without asking. It had been almost three weeks. "2027, do you... Do you have a name? Or are you just 2027?"

He looked surprised that she'd asked. "Yeah," he said after a moment. "Yeah, I do. Albtraum."

"Albtraum," she repeated, thinking back to her high school German classes. "That means 'nightmare'."

He smiled slightly. "Yeah. Doctors started calling me that after I turned Euclid."

She sighed, leaning on the edge of the control panel. "Are you ever going to tell me about what happened that day, Albtraum?"

He frowned, but didn't seem angry this time. "Someday, I will. Not yet."

"Well, I hope someday is soon, because we're going to run out of things to talk about."

"Never," he answered with a grin. "You can just tell me all your stories over again. I never get tired of them."

"Which do you want to hear again today?" she asked wryly.

"The time you broke the high school quarterback's arm during the graduation ceremony because he called you a robot."

"You're particularly fond of that one, aren't you?"

"Don't fault me for enjoying an exciting story about a smart, pretty girl handing a dumb Neanderthal his ass."

Mianna laughed, and told the story again.