SCP-1428 – "Cortexichildren"
Chapter 23: The Proposals
Disclaimers: When I began writing Cortexichildren, SCP-1428 was vacant. It is no longer vacant, but I have no intentions of publishing this on the wiki. This is mainly a crossover fic, not a SCP event log that will go on the site.
Forever reminder that I do not own anything. Fringe belongs to J.J. & co. Each SCP belongs to their respective individual author. The SCP universe belongs to that collective on that site. I do not own anything. I am a fan.
Forever reminder of how I handle alt!characters: Over There: Bob. Over Somewhere Else: Bob.
For this chapter: any SCP-001 proposal mentioned or quoted here does not belong to me. You can find them in their original context and glory on the SCP wiki. Do not view their usage here as discrediting them; they are amazing works that have inspired me these past few years. Please feel free to browse them before you read this chapter, if you aren't already familiar with them. Lol even if you are familiar: refresh yourself.
Author's Notes: Warning: this chapter is document & dialogue heavy; bear with me. We need this before we can get to ACTION ACTION ACTION DEATH DEATH DEATH. I mean happy fun times. Lots & lots of happy fun times.
Oh & if there was any confusion about last chapter: the Agent Lee on the Delta team is NOT Lincoln Lee. This is another Lee. Who's probably [read as absolutely] a different race than Lincoln. During writing I realized this might cause confusion, but hey… sometimes you got people with the same last name in your posse. I refer to Lincoln as "Lincoln" in the fic anyway, so don't sweat. But sorry for any ?s.
Also: I know Swann's is all about meta-awareness… but if placed in another context… it still applies to this story.
O5 Log 01428-00000-Z97B2-O2-X:
This is a Dr. Hendricks-type blunder probably, but I feel it's a sacrifice I have to make.
There's a window of opportunity that will never come again. I have no other scheduled affairs until our meeting in [DATA REDACTED] hours. During which, we'll receive the report from the Ethics Committee. My fate is probably already sealed. And my contact with Dr. Takahashi has proved quite underwhelming. In her defense, the Ethics Committee's self-monitoring methods are relentless. All traces of a private life, let alone any sort of life, deteriorate. Your only companion is ethics itself, and given the Foundation's history, it is a cold and brutal mistress.
In that case, I must gather as much information from Olivia as I possibly can. Like I've said before: she is the Master Key. She is [and I feel quite guilty saying this] a gift. It has come at a great cost to her and Nick, but they have been necessary messengers. And unfortunately, it has come at great cost to the Foundation as well.
We have lost so many people because of Nick and Olivia. I don't blame them; they were acting in self-defense. But… so many personnel have died preventable deaths. Others exposed their true colors, and were rightfully dealt with, but again, at the expense of Nick and Olivia.
I will be breaching every security protocol known to the Foundation by exposing Olivia Dunham to this information, but I don't care. This is for "the greater good." This is for a better understanding of our world. This is, contrary to the Foundation's creed, what will actually protect the world – multiple worlds.
Whatever happens to me after this, I have no regrets.
He couldn't pose as Dr. Bishop this time. The name on the ID read Dr. William Hastings; the glasses on his face were horn-rimmed; the smile on his face stiff like plastic. He felt too much like Dr. Kwon in his navy blue suit and his jelled back hair, but he needed to present himself with a different appearance and manor. Like before, he had covered his tracks, and had given his alias a full history: schools, noted colleagues, project histories, everything.
The guard looked over his notifications and nodded approvingly. "Welcome to Site-19, Dr. Hastings. Congratulations on your transfer from Site-06-3."
"Thank you," Dr. Hastings nodded and smiled curtly. "Though I must say, I will miss the cuisine from Site-06. If you're ever transferred there yourself, you need to order the meatballs." That wasn't a lie.
"Will do, sir," the guard laughed.
Dr. Hastings smiled fondly. Olivia had told him that his alternate counterpart, the one that she was most familiar with, adored cooking. During his free time in the lab, he would perfect the most random recipes. He had always enjoyed food, but never had the time to make it himself. He was happy a version of himself could pursue that passion.
Dr. Bishop walked briskly through the site. Not much had changed since he had last been there. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Dr. Warren. When this was over [and if he was still alive at the end of it], he would like to contact her. He had read her files and her doubts about the Cortexiphan project, Dr. Kwon, and most recently, the Foundation. Perhaps he could offer her a helping hand, but not now. He was on borrowed time in this Dr. Hastings disguise. He couldn't afford to make any mistakes.
He couldn't risk making the transmission from where he and Dr. Montgomery had met. He would have to go somewhere else. His mind raced to the maintenance tunnels. He knew of an abandoned room, in between two large pipes whose function he did not know. But that had been years ago. But that was the only shot he had.
Walking there had taken nearly an hour. Dr. Bishop swore under his breath as he opened the briefcase containing all the necessary broadcasting equipment. However, he was fortunate that such a room still existed – completely abandoned. He wasn't one to believe in Lady Luck and Fate, but so far… things were going his way.
Unlike last time with Dr. Montgomery, working with an already-existing Foundation data station, he had brought a portable – practically untraceable – model. To the untrained eye, it looked just like a tablet. But it was strong enough to bypass any security measure the Foundation could ever think of. And Dr. Bishop knew; he had created and ruled on many of those security measures.
Or at least he hoped so; he had never tested it before today. The device had been collecting dust under his bed for years. It had been locked away, matryoshka style-nestling in five containers, to be used only in emergency situations. When he had begun working on the device, after his eighth year with the Foundation, he thought he would have to use it to call for help – in the event the Foundation had been breached by a more powerful Group of Interest. But now, he was the one doing the breaching.
Dr. Bishop was in the system now. He gave himself a thirty minute window to successfully switch from channel to channel, evading any traces of his feed into Olivia and Nick's cell. And he gave himself another thirty minute window to slip out of there, unseen.
Since the two of them had been put into solitary confinement, Olivia spent most of her days sleeping, thinking, or meditating. It wasn't exactly meditating; it was closer to focusing and refining her energy. She couldn't rely on her "feelings," like she had with SCP-173, SCP-682, and her first breach. She needed to control her "powers" effectively. Her instincts had given her a comfortable safety blanket, but that wasn't good enough anymore. She didn't trust her instincts; she wanted full control over herself. If she didn't have control over her body, how the hell could she hope to get out of this situation in the first place?
Every day she practiced fluctuating the lights, turning the cameras, even levitating a bit off of the ground –anything she could do that wasn't too obvious. Although on a few occasions, when she moved a few of the cameras and positioned herself into a blind spot, she was able to produce a few sparks and flames from her fingertips. But that was all.
Nick, on the other hand, was practicing what was a lot closer to meditation. Silencing the demons and clearing his mind of all doubt were his goals, and they were a lot harder to achieve than flickering the lights a few times. When Olivia was discouraged with her progress, all she had to do was look over at Nick, and her negative self-critique was guiltily swallowed down, quickly placed in perspective.
Compared to her exercises to keep her focused [she felt like a ZFT recruit, sticking to a routine, trusting no one, keeping her mind sharp; she didn't know how to feel about that], these were huge steps for Nick. She wished she could better help him; she wished she could go in there and fight the demons for him, but this was something he needed to do himself. And she was right there with him, every step of the way.
Some days were harder than others. Some days he sat in the corner, legs crossed, hands resting on his knees, silent for hours. Other days, he gripped his head and screamed. And she could feel his empathic energy spread about the room. Those days it was almost visible. And if it weren't for their bond… she would have succumbed. Those days he especially needed her, even if it was something as simple as holding his hand. Her presence calmed him, focused him, healed him.
This past week, or however long it had been since Dr. Bishop and Dr. Montgomery had last visited them, almost felt like a gift, although she was reluctant to label it that. But the two of them were very fortunate to have this time [with relatively low amounts of sedatives filtering through the vents] uninterrupted by the Foundation. Olivia was especially grateful that Nick had this time. Out of all the months they had likely spent imprisoned here, right now Nick was at his strongest.
She was preparing to flicker the lights of the camera facing her, when she noticed the red light turn green. This could only mean one thing.
Olivia gasped when the projection of Dr. Bishop appeared before her. While she was grateful to see him again, she was also very surprised. "What are you doing here? I thought this wasn't exactly safe for you?"
"It isn't, but it's a risk I'm willing to take."Dr. Bishop produced a multitude of documents from the briefcase beside him. "There's still so much you need to tell me. I'm not leaving until I've heard it all."
Olivia shook her head. "What if they catch you? Surely there has to be an easier way."
"This is the easiest way." He scowled, "If the original Cortexichildren team hadn't made so many mistakes, perhaps I could have scheduled a proper interview with you. I could have met you face to face. I could have given you the documents to hold in your own hands, to see with your own eyes. But that's impossible now – forbidden, by me."He laughed,"I didn't know that order would come back to haunt me. So believe me when I say this is my only option."
"Well," Olivia folded her hands and placed them over her thighs, "What else do you want to know?"
"You have been assigned the number SCP-1428. There are thousands of numbers and thousands of entities contained by the Foundation. The first true entity is SCP-002, and it builds from there.
"SCP-001 is special. Think of it as a label grouping theories, or proposals, describing how our universe came to be, how the Foundation exists, what the human condition consists of… all the larger questions humankind has struggled to answer for centuries. There are multiple theories that carry the name SCP-001. In order to prevent this knowledge from being leaked, several / no false SCP-001 files were created alongside the true file / files." Dr. Bishop spread out the documents for Olivia to see. "These are those files. The smallest fraction of Foundation personnel has laid eyes on these. They are normally protected by a memetic kill agent designed to attack any non-authorized personnel attempting to access the files." He laughed, "This, showing you these files, is the highest offense any member of the SCP Foundation can commit. Revealing their nature to any non-authorized personal is punishable… by execution."
Olivia gasped, "You can't be serious. Pack all of these up at once. I won't have you sacrifice your life for this. It isn't worth it."
Dr. Bishop couldn't help but laugh, "While I am touched by your concern for my welfare, I have done so many things to undermine the Foundation since you were forced into our establishment. This seemed like the logical next step. I have no more fear. The system I've been complicit in… is wrong." He leaned forward, "And you're going to prove it."
"I still think this is a horrible plan. How long can you stay here? What else can you do to protect yourself? And us? Surely they have a plan for us. We've been sitting here for far too long."
"You're right. We're waiting on a ruling by the Ethics Committee – and they do exactly what their name implies: rule on our ethical decisions. I'm also attending what will likely be my last Overseer meeting. There we'll be ruling on both of your fates, among other things. There I'll recommend transferring you to an armed containment facility. Your special containment procedures will likely include suspended animation until we have the resources to properly address you, which would hopefully be never. Of course my real plan is your removal from this facility, free to a place where you can safely cross over. Hopefully this will be implemented in the next 36 hours – or however large of a cushion there is for me to work with. Contrary to what you might think, there are personnel I can easily rally and pool for my cause. And if I have to enlist the help of fellow SCPs… I will."
He saw Olivia shaking her head in disbelief, and a much more skeptical Nick grimace behind her. He didn't blame them. There was no plan. His plan was planning a plan in the future and hopefully winging it when it came time to execute. That wasn't very comforting when your life was on the line. He wished he had more for them, but he didn't and he couldn't. Everything was riding on the results of that Ethics Committee report, and the O5's response to that report. Then and only then could he plan and act.
"Don't worry yourself about that; let me worry. What I need you to do is listen and respond." Dr. Bishop took out a smaller silver tablet which bore the SCP logo on the back. "You're familiar with Dr. Kwon, yes?" He looked up and saw her nod. He looked back down to the tablet and flipped through a few pages from Dr. Kwon's personal files. "Dr. Kwon has synthesized what he believes to be Cortexiphan. He has samples. You and I both know that those… must never be used in any experiment. He hopes, within the month, to hold drug trials with the D-class personnel. 'SCP-1428' refers to the actual substance, while both you and Nick are considered hosts, subsets. These D-class personnel would likely be linked to you, perhaps even housed in the same location. It's Dr. Kwon's goal to have… a multitude of SCP-1428 hosts. It's his goal to have an Olympian project succeed.
"But he can't. After I remove you from the Foundation, if I still have my position and / or my life, I will have to find some way to destroy those samples and all traces of Dr. Kwon's research. I'm thinking of recommending Dr. Kwon to the Overseer staff to keep quiet. We've had a position open for a while now. It doesn't matter if I tell you, and it might have something to do with the way you appeared in our world in the first place. But O-13 has been missing… for a very long time. We've led drastic and thorough searches – similar to what your universe has likely been doing for you, but even larger – but to no avail. Perhaps he's in your universe while you're in ours." But what was the likelihood of that? Dr. Bishop pushed that thought aside and continued. "Being promoted to the Overseer staff is a dream for many of the personnel here; it certainly was mine. But becoming one of the O5 is Dr. Kwon's sole motivation. He's so invested in the Cortexiphan project because he thinks it will give him enough standing in the Foundation to be recommended. Knowing his character, once he's given what he wants, he'll stop all research." He added, in hushed tones, "And if my life is taken in the next 72 hours, Dr. Kwon will have already had my blessing to take my position."
Olivia gasped at that statement. She assured him, "That's not going to happen. Not on my watch."
He smirked, "And even if I live… I plan to defect soon, and hopefully not alone."
"You mean Dr. Montgomery."
"And others. I've read personal files of personnel in all levels of the Foundation. Finding such dissent would normally mean an execution by firing squad, but I'm gathering information in hopes of recruiting them." He smiled brightly at Olivia, "I hope to make another Foundation, a wiser Foundation. One that Dr. Montgomery would be honored to serve. One that takes all lives into account, to the best of our ability." But that smile dimmed. "I have done some truly disgusting things for this Foundation, and all of them fall on a spectrum of necessity. Some things, as dark as they were, were necessary. Others, like your case, were not. We need to make stronger distinctions and shed light on these nuances. Mistakes made from those like Dr. Winters and Dr. Hendricks should never have happened."
"There are currently eleven proposals named SCP-001. I don't have time to go through every one with you, but I've brought you two that I find to be… interesting." Dr. Bishop – or rather his projection – laid out nine pages between the two of them. Even though Olivia couldn't physically touch the pages, she would still be able to read them for herself. "This first set of nine belongs to Dr. Mackenzie. She's a highly respected doctor here. And in some ways… she reminds me of you.
"Don't concern yourself with the special containment procedures in the report. Direct your attention, instead, to the transcripts of the personal diary belonging to 'The Administrator.'"
Olivia looked down at the literature in front of her. It wasn't what she would consider light reading.
Addendum 001-02: Transcript of SCP-001 Documents
SCP-001-05 is a page printed from what appears to be an inkjet printer, found inserted between pages 15 and 16 of SCP-001-03. This page has been preserved in the same unidentified method as the rest of the documents in SCP-001.
Memo from the Office of The Administrator
Humanity has existed in its current state for hundreds of millennia, yet only the last few have held any meaning for us. What did we do for the countless years before recorded history? We huddled in caves, warding off the night with small fires, fearful of the things that we could not understand. It was not just that we did not understand why the sun rose every morning, it was the mystery of enormous fish with the heads of men, and rocks that came to life, and monsters that drove those who saw them mad. So we called them 'angels' and 'devils', begged them to spare us from their wrath, and prayed for salvation.
As time passed, their numbers died out and mankind flourished. The world began to make more sense. Yet, the unexplained can never truly go away, as if the universe requires for there to be things we can never truly understand.
We will not go back into the dark, fearful night. We will not be ruled by the unknown. We will stand up for ourselves.
Even as the rest of humanity remains uninformed, we will fight the darkness, containing it and shielding it from the eyes of the common man, so that they can continue to live in the blissful illusion of a normal world.
This appeared to be nothing out of the ordinary. She had read such manifestos before. Olivia pushed on.
…
Excerpt from SCP-001-03, page 41:
This one solved an equation that could set a framework for the rest of the solution. I killed them by my own hand. Could they have ever imagined that it was an act of mercy?
…
Final Excerpt from SCP-001-03, page 68:
It is finally done. The equations are complete, the math is sound, but it comes too late once again. This team will not have the time to construct the Solution, and I will have to abandon the Foundation again. But, I do so with the knowledge that no more will have to suffer the same fate.
Olivia's mind raced to her case with the Equation and those who had been tortured to complete it. How a little boy was once thought as "the key" to it – like how she was "the key" to solving this SCP-001 problem. But the Equation she knew of related to matter. Was this the same one? This spoke of fate and mercy… language she wouldn't normally pair with science. Unless…
…
SCP-001-34 is a worn, handwritten page discovered between the front cover and first page of SCP-001-03.
To whom it may concern:
First, I want to say that I am sorry for everything. I have most likely doomed you and everyone you have ever known to death and destruction by my mere presence in your world. If you are in possession of — and reading — this document then I am probably dead. If that is the case and I did not bother to destroy this evidence, then that means I have also probably failed in my mission. This means that my responsibilities have now passed onto you and that your fate and the fate of your world are now in your hands.
I was not born into your world. I am a traveler from a parallel plane of existence, an alternate reality separate from your universe. The year from which I originate is of little consequence; if I've learned anything from my travels, the passing of time from universe to universe is meaningless. What is important is that in my plane of origin, mankind was highly advanced. We harnessed the power of entire stars, molded planets and moons alike to suit our needs, and even learned to manipulate the fabric of reality itself. We had conquered death through advances in medicine and technology, and we thought ourselves masters of our own fates.
Olivia's heart skipped a beat. This sounded too much like her experiences, or rather her experience with the Observers. And yet, this couldn't be an Observer. This note expressed sorrow, deep sorrow, in endangering [more accurately "dooming"] lives. This showed compassion. Observers, save for small examples from August and September, were not capable of full-strength, complex compassion.
So who wrote this?
We realized too late that all such things have a cost, and that our greed and hubris would not only result in the loss of everything we held dear, but doom countless others as well. Our meddling in the structure of existence had opened up cracks and twists in the fabric of reality, a Corruption of the multiverse that we had failed to noticed earlier because we could not see the pieces of our reality leaking into others. By the time feedback began to manifest, it was already too late to stop it.
If Olivia had been holding the pages in her hand, she would have dropped them. She looked up to the projection of Dr. Bishop in awe. "These are real documents from real proposals? This isn't one of your tests, correct? A real doctor formed this proposal from these documents?"
"Yes."
This Administrator wrote of things she was painfully familiar with. It was simply unbelievable to see another document speak of hubris, of "meddling in the structure of existence," of creating "cracks and twists in the fabric of reality." She now pictured Walter, her Walter, and his meddling between the two universes. Her thoughts raced to amber and all the destruction present on the Other Side. She thought of tears between the two universes and all that glimmered in her eyes.
She had told Dr. Bishop all of that the first time he had contacted her via the projector. So what else did he want her to see?
Before this Corruption consumed us completely, we came up with one final fail-safe. We would gather up what knowledge we could save and sacrifice our world to send a single individual through to the next. This could not repair the damage that had already been done, but could buy us the time to start over, to find a way to stop the Corruption of reality. That individual was me.
Impossible. She knew of a device capable of destroying and saving worlds… and that device is one that Peter placed himself in. But instead of his existence being spared, he had been destroyed. And yet what the document described had also happened to him; he had destroyed the previous timeline and nearly everyone else's awareness of it, but he had saved himself and his knowledge. He created a "fresh start" so that both universes could mend, safe from war.
She knew that The First People were really Walter and Peter. She knew that the Machine had been sent back through time by them. It allowed Peter to make another decision, to save both worlds instead of destroying one to save the other. Yet this… this wasn't the language used in Seamus Wiles' book, or in any of Walter's notes. This was someone else from yet another universe? Olivia had more questions now than she did when she had first crossed over.
If you have not already found them, then the evidence to support my claims will begin to bleed into your world soon enough. Like a rain of glass, the shattered remains of other universes will begin to fall and slip into yours. Things that defy your understanding, fixed loops and structures without meaning or rhyme, that cannot be destroyed by any means you possess. Things that drive men mad and challenge all the assumptions that you hold dear.
Olivia and the Fringe team she was familiar with understood that there was a Pattern… but this universe did not. And was this person referring to that same Pattern she knew? She didn't know.
Her thoughts also wandered to SCP-682. How it too was like her – from somewhere else. "The shattered remains of other universes will begin to fall and slip into yours." Is that what SCP-682 meant? Is that what SCP-682 was? Was everything connected?
That which I carry with me is the final legacy of countless worlds. The equations and technology described in its pages carry with them the hope of stopping the Corruption, a hope that has come with a heavy price. They are the last will and testament of a bloody trail of universes that have sacrificed and been sacrificed that those who remain may avoid their fate. At the time of this writing they are nearly complete, but time is ever against me. If I am no longer able to see this mission through to its bitter end, then it falls to you to finish what I began.
Good luck,
[DATA EXPUNGED]
The Administrator
Olivia's hands were shaking after reading "a bloody trail of universes that have sacrificed and been sacrificed that those who remain may avoid their fate." Peter Bishop had helped two universes escape a bloody fate… but if this were true… what else was out there? This account, even if it was a made-up file to cover up the truths held in the other ten proposals, corresponded with too much that she knew – things she knew to be true.
Olivia tried to swallow, but her throat felt constricted; her saliva felt thick. But she had to continue, shaking hands and all.
SCP-001-35 is a single handwritten page found between the last page and back cover of SCP-001-03. The handwriting in SCP-001-35 is inconsistent with that of the other handwritten documents in SCP-001.
[DATA EXPUNGED],
This is it, the last evidence that our civilization will have ever existed. No one is entirely sure what will happen when you activate the fail-safe. Some of them are saying that the backlash from using it will instantly shatter what remains of our existence. Others are saying that using something of this power will merely accelerate the Corruption by a hundredfold. Either way, it will be quick. By the time you wake up at your destination, there will be nothing left of our home.
You already know that it will only carry a single passenger, and the second team should have your gear ready by the time you're ready to go. I can only hope that with the time we've bought you, you can find a way to stop this disaster. If not, the device will keep track of the relative corruption level of local reality as well as how many times it's been activated. A bit sadistic of us, perhaps?
By the time you read this, I will already be dead. I'm sorry, but you have always been the stronger one. I don't have the strength to face the end with my head held high. Not without you.
I love you.
Olivia's heart stopped. The expression of love made her think of the way she had bid Peter goodbye when he got into the Machine and left her life and very reality. For the longest time, she was empty without him. Only recently was she starting to remember. And just when she had, the Foundation took her. "You have always been the stronger one" also resonated with her. She couldn't help but feel like someone had punched her in the gut; she couldn't help but think of herself. So many times had she been referred to as "the strongest" or "the strong one." It was starting to become a cliché in her life, until she came here; until those words became reality. She couldn't help but imagine a version of herself embarking on this type of a quest – to save her world and as many universes as possible. But that seemed highly unlikely. But knowing what she had been through, the impossible was highly possible.
Another punch to the gut had been "I don't have the strength to face the end with my head held high. Not without you." She thought of Peter, pacing back and forth in their universe without her. She had to stop reading. She had to stop thinking. She had to stop or she would cry in front of Dr. Bishop and Nick. It would be an understatement to say that she missed him. Peter was the first and last thing she thought of every single day of her containment here. He was her world, and she was his. But she also thought of Nick – the defeatist Nick who wouldn't be able to carry on without his "stronger" other half. She felt guilty that she thought of this man, a man she was far from intimate with, but a man whom she was intimate with. Their bond, their shared experience, their shared containment in hell WAS intimacy; they were bonded souls – for life. She cared for Nick too… and this note read so much more like him than Peter. "Not without you. I love you." She had read that in Nick's voice, not Peter's.
She looked back at the description of the device and gasped in horror.
SCP-001-01 appears to only be capable of displaying two indicators. One appears to be a status or progress bar with an accompanying number, currently at approximately 23%. The other indicator is a single digital counter displaying the number ,.
According to the note, this supposed "corruption level" was 23%. And the other, measuring the activation of the device, was blacked out. But she didn't need to know the precise amount; knowing how many digits were involved was enough to make her gasp. Because the device had been activated thousands of times.
Olivia felt the room spinning rapidly around her. She took a quick peep at Nick. She was relieved to see that he was taking part in none of this. His main directive was purging himself of those destructive thoughts. This would only complicate matters. This would only make him worry more.
"This is… this is very overwhelming," she admitted, surprisingly out of breath.
Addendum 001-03: SCP-001-36
References found within the documents comprising SCP-001 suggest the existence of SCP-001-36, an electronic device or large document containing comprehensive technological and mathematical data related to SCP-001. The current whereabouts of SCP-001-36 are unknown.
Oh no. But she couldn't let this panic permeate her mind. This wasn't her primary concern. "How does this all relate back to me?"
"You have to keep reading." Dr. Bishop smirked, "Do you have it in you to read one more?"
"This is a proposal from Dr. S Andrew Swann. Again, ignore the special containment procedures. That isn't your main focus"
But Olivia couldn't help but fixate on some… choice words.
…
Leaking of data about SCP-001, through espionage, telepathic leakage, original research or [REDACTED] must be contained by any and all means available to the Foundation. The senior member of O5 Command, as the one person with authorized knowledge about SCP-001, is the final arbiter on containment.
Foundation personnel of level two or higher who discover data about SCP-001 in the course of their normal duties may be given a Class A Amnesiac after debriefing rather than being terminated. This is subject to O5 approval on a case-by-case basis.
"You've certainly put yourself in quite a predicament," she said, pointing to the paragraph.
"This is a necessary predicament." Dr. Bishop started to bite his lip. "I don't mean to me rude, Olivia, but I must urge you to continue. I'm running out of borrowed time."
She nodded. She was being selfish.
…
Dte: o5/2█/20█z
IncIdeN█: FounDAtIon R█searcHe█%20discov
%5BDAtttA ExPugeD%5D
Ask yourself if you want to know.
If the answer is no, then you need to stop reading now. If you go and report this unauthorized file to your superiors, act contrite, and claim that you only read to this paragraph, you might get away with a Class A Amnesiac. If you're lucky. And if the O5s aren't particularly paranoid at the moment.
So you want to know what SCP-001 is? The first answer is that it is was a placeholder, a theoretical designation for the prime cause, the ultimate reason for all the paranormal crap we deal with on a daily basis. SCP-001 is why we have to deal with omnicidal reptiles, ever expanding rooms, extra-dimensional pools of red goop and consumer products that don't obey the normal laws of physics. Of course, given that all these things— as dangerous and deadly and just plain insane as they all are— are inherently patternless and self-contradictory, most researchers are convinced that there is no possible unifying principle for them all, much less a common source.
They're wrong.
Olivia couldn't help but snort at that retort.
There's more than one reason that cross-testing is discouraged, and the O5s even look down on excessive cross-referencing of SCPs. The O5s don't want any one group looking at more than a handful of these things at once, because of what they discovered when the Foundation tried to develop a Grand Unified Theory of SCPs. That research is mostly gone now. Site-001-Alpha was dismantled, scrubbed from the archives, the staff mind-wiped and reassigned. No one left but me, and I wouldn't know anything if it wasn't my habit of not trusting the Foundation servers and having my own hidden personal archive the O5s missed in their panic.
Olivia's head started to spin again. She held it in her hands and gasped out, "You said that… multiple files could be correct… or incorrect."
"That's correct."
Olivia wet her lips, which had become painfully dry through this reading process. "Do you believe that both Mackenzie and Swann are correct? Or at least, parts?"
"And your accounts. You're bright, Olivia Dunham; you've seen the similarities, as well as the differences, to your experiences. That's why I pre-selected these two proposals. There are others in our database – ones that are incredibly well researched, and possibly have a lot more credibility to themselves than these. But given your experiences as a person definitely not from this world and definitely given Cortexiphan, I find those other proposals to be less correct. There may well be truths in the others, and perhaps much of these proposals have been carefully crafted to appear plausible, but I urge you to keep reading. I want your take afterward."
So she did.
I was a data analyst at Site-001-Alpha [Note to O5 Command: Don't bother looking for me, I finished the job you started, the identities of all former staff at Site-001-Alpha have been completely scrubbed from the records, you know as much as they do now.] and I participated in the first and only attempt to consolidate all Foundation data on all SCPs. I was in charge of data integrity. And as much of a mess as you might think that was, it was an order of magnitude worse.
Forget the memetic SCPs, or the ones that modify their own description, or the ones that seem to only inhabit infospace and slip into the database to wreak havoc. That's all SOP for anyone who works with the Foundation's network, just a matter of scale. Worse were the completely inexplicable, unexpected changes in data-
Sorry, that's wrong, even though I can't help thinking of it that way. It isn't a change in data when reality is shifting to match. I don't know a lot about the internals of the software we used, but I know that part of it ran outside what we think of as the "real world." And, at first, everyone thought that the audit trails it produced were some sort of bug. However, it became apparent that the nature of the software, its purposeful isolation from the narrative-affecting SCPs, allowed it to record something far more important.
It's not visible to you, or the O5s, or even to most of the SCPs we deal with, but the Foundation— and by extension the entire universe— is in a state of constant shifting reality flux.
Olivia stopped. That was it. She knew that something wasn't quite right when she had crossed over. There were so many discrepancies between the timelines she knew and the timeline presented here. It would explain why she couldn't go back; how she couldn't sense her universe because she felt as if… she was moving farther away from it. She thought she was delusional, but perhaps she had been right all along.
Perhaps this universe was "in a state of constant shifting reality flux." But she didn't entirely agree with the rest of the man's proposal. Perhaps it was a joke to refer to the divine answer to existence as "horror writers," but that didn't matter to her. What was interesting was the shifting, especially in relation to the previous proposal's description of fail-safes and resets. And especially in relation to her crossing over and Peter's involvement with the Machine.
But what did it all mean? How did it all connect? Was Dr. Bishop expecting HER to have the answers? She wasn't the person of science here. She was an agent of action. She had a fantastic memory; she would be able to perfectly recreate these for her Walter when she was finally back home, but she didn't know how to fit all the pieces together.
She looked back again to the proposal. She found something that was quite unsettling, something that made her gasp in horror again. Because it seemed to be related to the blacked out indicator from the previous report.
SCP files appeared and disappeared from our database with alarming regularity, and the SCPs referred to, to all appearance, appeared and disappeared along with them. Not just SCPs, but personnel, whole sites, and entire decades of the Foundation's history would be re-written, seemingly at random.
And our own memories, and all external research would confirm that "objective" reality matched the current version in our database.
This made her think of the Device. This made her think of what she had directly experienced – a re-writing of the timeline. She had been given entirely new memories, with no recollection that they were false – up until now. Her entire history had changed, just because Peter had removed himself out of the equation.
The Equation, the Machine… could this all be connected? Had this universe been reset too?
Olivia had needed a few moments to compose herself again, but she eventually shared with Dr. Bishop her thought process while reading the two proposals.
"I'm sorry I can't connect the dots for you. I have a feeling you'll have to tackle that on your own. All I know is my experience, and what you've shown that reaffirms my experiences." Olivia pushed back some of her dry yellow hair away from her face. "I can only vouch for my reality and my universe. I can't tell you what to believe – especially when it comes to those proposals. But so much is too similar not to be true. And yet there are conclusions there… that just… they can't be right."
"Like what, Olivia?"
"I just…" How could she put the Observers into words? And how could she, when she didn't even know September's true motivations? She decided to leave him out, for now. "I only know what I know. And what I know is that… one man and his son caused physical and psychological rifts between universes. And some of those rifts didn't go away because of a simple reset. So much animosity remains between our worlds. And for the life of me… I can't see one universe giving up everything just to see another survive." She thought of Walternate, her alternate, and so many others – even Peter when he had agreed to go to the Other Side in the first place. "Call me jaded, but I don't believe the traveler's tale. Because it just doesn't happen all too often."
"Have you lost your hope, Olivia Dunham?"
"I… I don't know. But another thing…" She scratched behind her right ear; a scab had been forming there for quite some time and she wanted to remove it. "Perhaps my Walter Bishop had an effect on your universe. By crossing over, he may have displaced your universe's time. I have no other way, in my understanding, to account for the changes in your universe." She shook her head, trying to get to the bottom of this. "Peter only targeted my universe and his when he attempted to restore balance. Could he have possibly affected yours, too? Because there are so many discrepancies here. So much of this… it's wrong. People, ages, events…" She put her head on her pillow and groaned, "But why? I… ugh, I can't think anymore, Dr. Bishop." And she knew the following would come out as rude, but he had stayed long enough – longer than she had expected. "I know I'm not in the position to properly do so, but I'd like to ask you to leave our room. We can continue this later, if you can."
"I won't be able to. But I think I have enough."
"What do you plan to do with the information? After we go… what happens?"
"If I live…" His voice started to fade away. "I'll write my own proposal. If our universe is subjected to these shifts… I would like to write the truth out and preserve it… if I can."
Dr. Bishop successfully exited the premises within his thirty minute goal. Luckily most of the shortcuts he knew still remained, despite all the renovation to the premises.
He was surprised to see the same guard manning his post. Dr. Bishop nervously smiled. That certainly… made things a lot more difficult.
Maybe if he walked by fast enough the man wouldn't notice? But of course the guard would notice. His attire made him stand out amongst the rest of the doctors. And for that, Dr. Bishop bit his lip; putting on another persona might have bitten him in the ass.
"Dr. Hastings? Is that you?" The guard smiled. "Missing those meatballs already?"
"I am, actually." Dr. Hastings was relieved that the guard was taking this rather well. "Apparently I need to go back; I'm still needed. But don't worry – my promotion is still in effect." He produced the fake documentation that was required. Dr. Hastings adjusted his collar. There was a camera recording his every move. And it made Dr. Bishop guilty that he felt so uncomfortable. Most of his life he had sat there, observing the footage those cameras had recorded. Not once did he stop to think how the recorded felt – how Olivia felt until she called him, and the entire Foundation, out.
The guard heartily chuckled, closing his dark green eyes. "Well, you know what they say about Site 19."
"No." Dr. Hastings was curious. "What do they say?"
"Oh. I forgot. You're not familiar with our jokes." The guard gave Dr. Hastings a grin he couldn't quite place. "Secure, contain, protect becomes snafu, complain… perish."
Dr. Hastings hesitated to laugh with the camera peering right up his nostrils. "I guess it's a type of humor… that I'll have to become accustomed to."
"Yeah. Well, when will you be coming back?" The guard actually raised an eyebrow. "Regular Site 19 blunders aside… this is a pretty big mistake. Why would they send you all the way here, only to ship you right back?"
"I just do what I'm told, same as you." Dr. Hastings laughed again, and scratched at the back of his neck. It was sweating. Dr. Bishop hadn't been this nervous when he had accessed the abandoned room – where he could have been caught by any passing armed personnel and shot on the spot – so why was he so nervous here? This was a simple guard monitoring traffic between the "normal" outside world and the SCP facility. What did he have to fear? Of course the man was armed, but… this was different. Or was he mistaken for assuming that? Is that why he was so nervous now?
The guard took a very long and skeptical look at Dr. Hastings' fake papers and ID. "But sometimes…" Those green eyes of his narrowed and sharpened; his voice lowered and thickened. "Don't you think a man has a right to know? Sometimes?" And then it returned back to his happy-go-lucky self. "I mean traveling back and forth like that must a pain in the ass, huh?" Then the man did something unthinkable. He leaned forward and whispered, "I know why you're here."
Dr. Hastings' eyes widened. He was about to utter a response, obviously prove the man wrong, but he was interrupted before he could even begin.
The whispering continued, "There are some of us here… who aren't particularly happy with the snafu-complain-perish system." Then his voice got ever louder, "I said I know why you're here! Somebody up there must be messing with you, huh? Is this a prank-for-prank? You can tell me." And his voice lowered again, "I won't tell anyone, unless you want me to."
"Well before I tell you my life story, let me have your name first." Dr. Hastings reached into his briefcase and produced more false documentation, smiling. "And to the best of my knowledge, I don't think this blunder was made out of spite. Although…"
The guard took the papers, "Agent Upshur." He looked down at the documents in shock. He knew what they were. A sequence of code, when inputted directly line for line, that could safely transfer data without being recorded by the system. "I'll be sure to pass this along, sir."
Dr. Hastings nodded and started to turn away.
"But wait. Let me give you something – for luck. Hopefully this won't happen again, y'know?" The guard reached for something in one of his vest pockets and tossed it to him.
It was a pin. A white tulip. A fresh start. Dr. Bishop smiled. Perhaps Lady Luck or Fate did exist.