“| have no idea why. Part of me knows I'd probably do fine there, 
and that it would be better for me and my family if | take the job, but 
at the same time | can’t stand the thought of wasting away over 
paperwork, sitting in meetings, and hobnobbing with the big wigs. 
It’s just not me.” Merlo sighed deeply. “I don’t know what to do.” 


“Well, if it was me, I’d take the job,” Conwell said, sitting down 
across from Merlo and looking over her pro and con list. “Then 
again, I’m not a field agent who eats danger for breakfast. Have you 
asked your family what they think?” 


Merlo shook her head. 


199 


“Gabe’s just going to say, ‘do whatever makes you happy.” Merlo 
rubbed her temple. “But the problem with that is if | choose what 
makes me happy I'll feel like shit. ‘Sorry sweetie, rather than take a 
better paying job that is safer, and allows me to be a bigger part of 
our daughter’s life I’m going to choose to keep on galivanting off into 
the sunset on my merry adventures, cause it’s what | want. See you 
later if | don’t die.” 


Conwell chuckled and shook his head. 


“What’s so fucking funny?” Merlo snapped. 


“You already know what decision you’re going to make,” Conwell 
commented, looking at his watch. He then stood and returned 
Merlo’s pro and con list to her. “You're just afraid of the 
repercussions.” 


He then put his earbuds back in place and finished the rest of his 
coffee, chucking the paper cup into a nearby trashcan. 


“If | was in your shoes, I’d take the job,” Conwell continued. “Safer 
spot to be, you get to see your family more, and you would be good 
at it. But, hey, what do | know. I’m just a scientist. You take care.” 


Merlo listened as Conwell began singing to himself once more as he 
took his exit. 


“As life gets longer, awful feels softer. 
Well it feels pretty soft to me. 
And if it takes shit to make bliss, 
Then | feel pretty blissfully.” 


2007 - Saturday, March 3rd 


The battle within the warehouse had begun to wind down. Most of 
the hostiles had been either apprehended or killed. Most of the 
anomalous art pieces and paratech had been secured. Only a few 
pockets of resistance remained for the MTF to mop up. 


One such pocket, that the rookie and the veteran had been assigned 
to, was in the form of a lanky black android that had fortified itself 
among multiple crates with its supposed owner. An MTF sniper had 
downed the owner, but the android’s bullet resistance and 
impressive skills with small arms had prevented the rookie and the 
veteran from closing in to complete containment. 


“Can't you just flash fry this guy too?” the rookie whispered from 
their cover behind a pile of crates. 


“If | wanted to burn this whole place down, sure,” the veteran replied. 
“It’s surrounded by wooden crates. That’s not happening.” 


“What good is being able to summon fire if you can be bested by a 


pile of wooden boxes?” the rookie asked, peering over their cover, 
only to duck to avoid a burst of bullets flying past her head. The 
force of the shots hitting a far stack of crates knocked a smaller 
crate off a larger one, and onto the floor. “| have an idea. Can you 
provide me covering fire?” 


“Almost getting shot gave an idea?” the veteran asked. “If this idea 
boils down to shooting the guy, I’m docking you for no originality.” 


“Humor me,” the rookie hissed back. “Can you provide covering fire? 
Get this guy focusing only on you?” 


“Just tell me when...” 
The rookie grinned and counted down on her fingers 


Five. 
Four. 
Three. 
Two. 
One. 


The second the final finger went down the rookie shot up and 
dashed towards the android’s fortress, the veteran letting loose a 
spray of bullets that kept the robot behind cover. Eventually the 
rookie vanished from the veteran’s view. He quickly ducked back 
behind cover to reload, the android sending a barrage of bullets 
toward his location. The veteran held his breath, and waited for the 
click of an empty magazine, before peering out from cover. Sure 
enough, the black droid was reloading, unaware of the rookie on top 
of the pile of crates behind it, forcing a crate off the top of the 
stack... 


“That’s just stupid...” the veteran said to himself with a smirk as he 
watched the crate fall, landing right on top of the android and 
flattening it under its weight. The rookie lost no time hopping down 
and quickly pinning the incapacitated droid beneath yet another 
crate. 


“Going to dock me for originality?” the rookie asked with a smug 
smile as the veteran approached. 


“| mean, you just knocked a box onto it. That’s not exactly, well, 
thinking too far outside the box is it?” 


“Everyone’s a critic...” the rookie said as she rolled her eyes and 
quickly flagged down the rest of the containment team for 
assistance. 


‘I’m afraid so.” 


Saturday, May 15th, 2021 


Agent Merlo sat in her living room, curled up in a blanket on her 
couch. As the credits to Empire Strikes Back ran across the TV 
screen, her husband was in the other room, putting their daughter to 
bed. By the time the credits had finished their crawl, Gabe had 
returned, lazily crawling under the blanket with her and pulling her 
close. She rested her head on his shoulder and then sighed. 


“Got something | need to talk to you about,” she said. 

“Oh no, that can’t be good.” Gabe chuckled. “What’s up?” 

“You know how the Director of Task Forces is retiring?” 
“Yeah...” 

“Holman’s offered me the job.” 

“That’s fantastic,” Gabe said with a smile. “You going to take it?” 
“| don’t know yet...” Merlo said after a pause. 

“Do or don't, I'll support you either way.” 


“Do you think | should take it?” Merlo asked, turning her head to look 
at her husband’s stubble covered face. She could see her reflection 
in his glasses. She looked so tired. 


“| think you should do what will make you happy,” Gabe replied. “If 
that means staying an MTF agent, go for it.” 


Merlo shot up and put her head in her hands before she let out a 
deep breath. 


“For once, Gabe, could you please lose the chill? Please?” She 
snapped. “Tell me what the fuck you want! Have a fucking opinion! 
Tell me you want me to take the job, that you and Jessie miss me 
and want me to be here more. Tell me that its selfish to continue 
being an MTF agent when such a better opportunity has come up. 
Get mad! Just... do something! Please! This is why | waited this long 
to tell you! You never have a fucking opinion.” 


“Grr? Arg?” Gabe said with a frown, halfheartedly shaking his fists. 
“Sasha, | mean what | said. If you’re happy on the sales floor, there 
is absolutely no reason to bump up to management. Stay head of 
the Lawbringers if you want. I’m fine with it. Really. | knew what | 
signed up for when we got married, and Jessie seems to understand 
things in her own way.” 


He then wrapped his arm back around her and pulled her into a hug. 
“| take it you told others first? What did they say?” 


“Shaw and Navarro think | should pass. Holman and Conwell said | 
should take it.” 


“And what do you think?” 


Merlo looked at Gabe. He smiled and gave her a kiss on her 
forehead. 


“| don’t know...” she mumbled. 
“When do you have to let Holman know?” 
“| told him I’d have an answer by tomorrow.” 


“Well, think on it tonight. I’ve told you what | think. Whatever 
decision you make, know that I’m proud of you, and will support 
you.” 


Merlo gave him a small smile and rested her head back on his 
shoulder. 


“Jedi?” she asked as she sank back into a comfortable spot. 


“Love to,” said Gabe as he got up to change the disk in the Blu-ray 
player. 


2007 - Saturday, March 3rd 


Overall, the raid was a success. Minor personnel casualties, high 
anomalous object turnaround, and numerous apprehended persons 
of interest. Still, when the combat dust had settled, their job had only 
just started. By the time cleanup was done, amnestics distributed, 
and all hands evacuated for the disinformation guys to take over, the 
sun had become low in the sky. However, the work eventually came 
to an end, and the MTF members were loaded back into their vans 
for transport back to the site for debriefing. 


“That was fun,” the veteran said to the rookie. “We should do this 
again sometime.” 


“Do you want to bring the auto-turret, or should 1?” she asked with a 
sheepish grin on her face. 


The veteran chuckled and shook his head. 


“Never caught your name, by the way,” he said, extending a 
handshake. 


“Sasha Grimmer,” the rookie replied, accepting the gesture. Her grip 
was strong. 


“Daniel Navarro,” the veteran said in return. “Not bad for your first 
raid. Holman should keep an eye on you. You're going places.” 
Sunday, May 16th, 2021 


Merlo stood in front of the office door and hesitated, reading the 
entry plaque several times. 


Edgar Holman, Site Director 


It was about the third readthrough that the words on the plaque 
began to change in her mind’s eyes. By the time she had read the 
plaque for a fifth time she thought the engraving actually read: 


Sasha Merlo, Site Director 
“In or out, Agent Merlo.” 


Merlo blinked as she snapped out of it, the voice of Holman’s 
secretary breaking her train of thought. 


“Right, sorry,” Merlo apologized, and let out a final sigh as she 
opened the door. The Site Director peered at her from his desk and 
smiled. 


“You wanted to speak to me, Merlo?” He asked. 


“Yes sir,” Merlo said. She moved across the room and took a seat in 
one of the chairs. 


“Oh? Whatever about?” Holman chuckled, and neatly folded his 
hands. 


“I’ve made my decision...” 
+ I'm sorry, Ed, but | can't do this... It's just not me. 


Sasha Merlo knocked on the door of one of a handful of 
accounting offices in Site-64. A familiar voice informed 
her it was open, and with a deep breath she entered. 
Inside she found Gabe Merlo sitting at the room's only 
desk. He gave her a warm, but confused, smile. 


"Well this is a nice surprise," Gabe said. "What brings 
you to math land?" 


"I turned down the job," Merlo answered as she gave a 
tired smile. 


"| figured you would," Gabe chuckled. "Business as usual 
from here on out, then." He paused, his smile briefly 
vanishing as he raised an eyebrow. "Are you happy with 


your decision?" 


"lam, but part of me wonders if | made a huge mistake,” 
Merlo shrugged. "You know, the usual." 


Gabe's smile returned instantly. 


"Oh, you certainly made a huge mistake," Gabe replied 
sheepishly. "You married me." 


He stood and wrapped his arms around her. Merlo held 
onto him tightly. 


"Seriously, though," Gabe continued. "I'm glad you did 
what you wanted, and not what you thought you had to 
do." He then gave her a peck on the cheek. "Love you, 
sweetie." 


Merlo gave a relaxed sigh and rested her head on his 
shoulder. 


"Love you too." 
+ Ask and you shall receive, Ed. | accept 


Sasha Merlo knocked on the door of one of a handful of 
accounting offices in Site-64. A familiar voice informed 
her it was open, and with a deep breath she entered. 
Inside she found Gabe Merlo sitting at the room's only 
desk. He gave her a warm, but confused, smile. 


"Well this is a nice surprise," Gabe said. "What brings 
you to math land?" 


"| took the job," Merlo answered. She gave a tired smile 
in return. 


Gabe blinked a few times as he processed the news, his 
smile widening to an ear to ear grin. 


"Really?" he asked. "That's awesome! Didn't think you'd 
go for it" 


"| didn't either," Merlo replied with a shrug. "But 
something just ended up convincing me this was the 
right move. That shooting Holman down would have 
been a huge mistake." 


"And we both know I'm the only mistake you have room 
for in your life," Gabe said with chuckle. "Do | have to 
start calling you Director now? 


"Only in the bedroom," Merlo answered impishly. 
"Kinky." 


Gabe then stood and wrapped his arms around Merlo, 
pulling her into a tight hug. 


"In all seriousness," he continued, "I really am proud of 
you. This is what you want though, right? You're not 
doing this because you feel obligated..." 


"This is what | want." Merlo nodded. "It just took me a 
while to figure out why." 


"Wonderful," he said, then proceeded to give her a peck 
on the cheek. "Love you sweetie." 


Merlo gave a relaxed sigh and rested her head on his 
shoulder. 


"Love you too." 


« No Good Deed | Anderson Robotics Hub | The Blackbird 
and The Falcon » 


SCP-827: The Soup 


Item #: SCP-827 
Object Class: Safe 


Special Containment Procedures: Site 827 has been established 
at the location of SCP-827's discovery. For the purposes of the 
Foundation, SCP-827 has been outfitted with a specialized cell 
reactor that allows for introduction of samples and removal of their 
products. Personnel actively interacting with SCP-827 are to wear 
full Level-C or higher Hazmat gear. 


Samples introduced into SCP-827 require approval of project 
director. Samples from only one individual at a time are to be 
introduced to ensure there is no genetic cross-contamination. All 
samples are to be screened for genetic chimerism. In the event that 
more than one distinct genetic sample is introduced to SCP-827, the 
sample is to be removed using procedure 827-Hari and incinerated. 


Tissue from the central nervous system is not to be used in 
SCP-827 tests following Incident 827- . 


Description: SCP-827 is a semi-solid mass of biologically active 
human stem cells. SCP-827 is capable of self-renewal and is 
totipotent, with cells replacing themselves at a rate of approximately 
200,000 cycles of mitosis per day, with roughly the same amount 
dying off per day; at time of writing, SCP-827's mass is currently 
353kg, and remains stable. 


When a sample of human organ tissue is introduced to SCP-827's 
mass, it is broken down and assimilated into the mass using a 
unique enzyme. Following this, SCP-827's cells will enter an active 
state and will begin to generate copies of the organs from which the 
tissue originated. These organs, designated SCP-827-A, differ from 
their original purpose in drastic ways; introduction of muscular 
tissue, for example, has resulted in full muscular systems 


Decomm 


Of all the soon-to-be-miserable individuals, why was it decided that 
a rookie was the best choice to get official signatures to formally 
close the Glieces program? On paper, it was the easiest job in the 
Foundation. You tell the poor sap the news he probably already 
knows, get him to sign a few pieces of paper, and you were on your 
merry way back to the bar. In practice, however, telling one of the 
most senior members of scientific staff that their only project was to 
be terminated and him summarily retired, might be a surefire way to 
flush future prospects down the drain. The man may have been 
unpopular among his equals, but since when did that have any 
effect on whose ear he could whisper into? Judging by his source (if 
you could call some meek unknown you bumped into by the water 
dispenser a source), Brophy considered "unreasonable pettiness" to 
be an oxymoron. Why couldn't the bastard have retired like any 
other sane individual? Struggling to remind himself there was no 
such thing as Keter Duty, Junior Agent Tennyson gripped the handle 
and proceeded into the observatory's main office.