SHORT-TERM RESEARCH GOALS: (new items in 
bold) 


¢ Determine number and distribution of 
microwormholes (Completed) 

Continued analysis of incoming and outgoing 
signals 

¢ Research origin, growth and development of 
microwormholes over time 

Verify Dr. Tarver's hypothesis with other 
memetic SCP objects 


LONG-TERM RESEARCH GOALS: (new items in bold) 


* Determine common cause of memetic anomalies 
(Provisionally marked as completed -Dr. Rudin) 

¢ Develop nanoscale equipment for analysis of 
microwormhole destination 

¢ Research methods of closing or blocking 
microwormholes to prevent cognitohazardous 
effects 


RESEARCHER'S NOTE: 


Clearly, this is an exciting time for everyone in the 
memetics department. These microwormholes are the 
most significant discovery in memetics in decades, and 
the research we're doing now will likely revolutionize how 
we deal with memetic threats. 


That said, | must issue a word of caution. Until a few 
months ago, | would have dismissed any talk of the 
"mind" being separate from the brain as a violation of 
Occam's Razor at best, and superstition at worst. 
However, any good scientist is willing to change her 
beliefs in the face of new evidence - and we now have 
proof that the mind consists of two distinct parts: The 
brain in the physical universe we understand, and a 
second part, hovering out of sight, in a realm we know 
nothing about. 


Given what is being sent in and out of the 
microwormholes, we cannot dismiss the possibility that 
their destination is what philosophers call the "Cartesian 


Theater". That is, the place where the brain puts on a 
show for the mind - the location where actual, conscious 
perception takes place. 


If this hypothesis is correct, then any attempt to close the 
microwormholes would not only render the subject 
immune to cognitohazards, it would also render them 
effectively unconscious. Their physical brain would 
continue unaffected, causing them to appear normal to 
observers, but they would no longer experience their 
own life. 


For this reason, | must insist on two features of any such 
project: 


1. It must be an absolute last resort, reserved only for K- 
class scenarios; 


2. Even then, it must only be a temporary measure. 


| dearly hope that such a measure never becomes 
necessary; however, as research along these lines has 
already been proposed by several members of my team, 
| ask that everyone keep this possibility in mind, and 
proceed with the necessary caution. 


- Dr. C. Rudin 


O5 COUNCIL MEETING TRANSCRIPT 
SEPTEMBER 8, 2012 


Present: 05-1 through O5-12, Dr. Julia Dean 
(Chairwoman, Ethics Committee), Dr. Claire Rudin 
(Project lead, Stage Fright) 


<Begin Log> 
05-1: Dr. Rudin, could you begin by explaining the 


purpose of your proposed addition to the Stage Fright 
protocols? 


Dr. Rudin: Yes. Because of the nature of the device, | 
believe that anyone who is aware of its methods would 
exhibit impaired judgement while it was active, regarding 
my "Cartesian Theater" hypothesis in particular. For that 
reason, | suggest that anyone involved in the project, 
including the O5 council, must be administered 
amnestics prior to its activation. 


O5-5: This hypothesis you mention, it's the idea that the 
wormholes are responsible for consciousness, correct? 


Dr. Rudin: Essentially, yes. 


05-8: Why, exactly, are we entertaining this notion? 
Frankly, | don't see why we don't turn the device on right 
now. It would make all our jobs a lot easier, save 
possibly millions of lives, and the only thing holding us 
back is this bit of speculative philosophy that - 


Dr. Dean: If | may interject, the Ethics Committee 
discussed Dr. Rudin's hypothesis last night. While the 
scientific data is inconclusive, we decided unanimously 
to act on the assumption that the hypothesis is correct, 
until it is conclusively disproven. The risks of 
disregarding it override any potential benefits. 


05-4: Setting that aside, | can't help but feel a bit 
insulted by your reasoning, Dr. Rudin. Are you 
suggesting that the judgement of the O5 council can't be 
trusted? 


Dr. Rudin: | understand, but please keep in mind what 
we've found from our research. Everything indicates that, 
aside from immunity to cognitohazards, the device would 
have absolutely no effect on anyone's behavior. 


| wager that everyone in this room is currently convinced 
of their own self-awareness. "I think, therefore | am." In 
fact, it would be damn near impossible to convince 
anyone otherwise. It's too immediately obvious. 


But the device does not affect behavior. Once it is 
activated, everyone will continue to act as if they believe 
themselves to be conscious - even if they are not. They 
will still be just as hard to convince otherwise. 


And that means we will act on the belief that the device 
does not negate consciousness - even if it does. We 
would likely decide never to turn it off. 


If that happens, we will be robbing the world of life, 
forever. For that reas- 


O5-8: Assuming your hypothesis is correct. 
Dr. Dean: Which we are. 


Dr Rudin: As | was saying, for that reason, we can only 
allow ourselves to know one thing: The device must be 
deactivated as soon as possible. We cannot allow 
ourselves to know why. 


05-1: Does anyone have anything else to add? 


O5-4: | still say this is an insulting proposal. We can trust 
ourselves to remain objective in any circumstance. We 
wouldn't be here if we couldn't. 


O5-1: Four, your objection is noted. Shall we put it toa 
vote? 


[Proposal passes 9-3, with O5-4, O5-8, and O5-11 
dissenting.] 


<End Log> 


Claire read the transcript a second and third time. 


| know | am conscious. Of course | am. | know | am - and my 
knowing proves it. 


But this previous Claire - she would say my mind has been impaired. 


Analysis of SCP-630-1 indicates that internal temperature decreases 
as much as 5°C/hour and subjects will instinctively attempt to make 
contact with heat sources, including fire, electronic equipment, 
incandescent lighting, and any nearby humans. En masse they have 
been reported to mob handlers as they attempt to find warmth, 
resulting in several severe cases of hypothermia. Attempts to 
communicate with SCP-630-1 have met with failure, since subjects 
are rendered too single-minded in their search for heat to respond. 
While they may be hard to see, SCP-630-1 are vulnerable to 
physical injury and are easy enough to dispatch. However, care 
must be taken in disposing of the remains as any fluids escaping 
from the body quickly solidify and can affect unprotected personnel. 


Over the course of exposure, SCP-630-1 will begin to show 
lessened speed and motor skills and eventually find a corner or 
enclosed space, curl into a fetal position, and finally cease 
movement altogether. The temperature around SCP-630-1 
continues to lower until it reaches -10°C, at which point any ambient 
humidity, combined with the body's natural water content, finally 
freezes into a layer of ice over the subject. After reaching this final 
phase, any skin contact creates the same effects as SCP-630. In 
addition, attempts to melt the ice have yet to reveal any traces of 
organic remains. 


-! never thought I'd be so glad that they found this thing 
in such a godforsaken place. While it seems unlikely that 
enough of this crap will ever get into a large enough 
body of water to cause any sort of XK event within our 
lifetime, it looks like it'll be moving into the aquifers of the 
Amazon Basin within the next — years. - Dr. 


« SCP-629 | SCP-630 | SCP-631 » 


| cannot trust what | know. 


| know | am conscious. But | am affected by a worldwide memetic 
effect. No, not memetic - but close enough. 


! must block what | know. 


| must think what previous-Claire, the one not affected, would want 
me to think. 


| am not conscious. Nobody has been conscious for two years. 
| must test the O5s. 


Claire flipped to the final pages of the packet, a description of the 
project's methods, most of it blacked out. At least three Keter-Class 
objects. Something level-5 classified. But the final steps, the ones 
previous-Claire had worked on, were visible, showing the final 
product of the process. 


A gyroscope that never stops spinning. 


Dr. Rudin had claimed she had good news. O5-8 wondered, then, 
why she looked like someone waiting for news on a dying loved one. 


"So, how goes the countermeme project?" 


"Very well, actually." Her speech was stilted, forced. Strange, he 
thought - but memetic researchers were always a bit odd. "We 
developed a countermeme this morning. It's projected to have 100% 
effectiveness." 


O5-8 felt a lump in his throat. He had been dreading this moment, 
having to shoot down years of her work. Still, he thought, it was for 
the greater good. These past two years had seen countless lives 
saved by the gyroscope, and it would be a crime against humanity to 
give that up. Her hypothesis was an interesting bit of philosophy, to 
be sure, but his anti-amnestic had allowed him to remember it, and 
see its falseness. 


"So as soon as you deactivate Stage Fright, we can begin 


distribution via mass media." 


A few white lies, a few well-placed bluffs. It had been easy to get the 
program, and its crown jewel, into his sole hands, especially when 
nobody else knew anything about it. 


| think, therefore | am. That much is ironclad. | have nothing to feel 
guilty about. 


"I'm afraid, actually, that we're going to put that on hold. We've 
decided to continue Stage Fright indefinitely.” 


He had girded himself for a look of disappointment, or shock, but 
was surprised to see a calm take hold of Dr. Rudin. She closed her 
eyes and breathed deeply. She was taking this better than he 
expected. 


"We'll archive the counter-meme, and you will, of course, be 
amnesticized. Standard protocol, for projects of this importance." 


"| see. Could you do me a favor, though?" Claire asked, removing a 
pen from her coat pocket. 


"Yes?" 


Claire jammed the pen between the spokes of the gyroscope, 
stopping it dead. O5-8 recoiled, and scrambled for the gyroscope 
just as she said the words she had memorized; the words that would 
dig into his mind and gouge out what he should've gouged himself. 


"Mr. Paul, I'd like you to exit, pursued by a bear." 


O5-8 was embarrassed to have lost focus. In the middle of an 
important meeting, and he was daydreaming about bears that 
smelled of peanut butter and rust. 


"Sir?" asked a heavily-armed man just inside the doorway. 
"Yes?" 


"You pressed your silent alarm?" 


"Oh, false alarm. Must have bumped it." 


The man glanced at Claire and, satisfied, left the room. O5-8 
relaxed, relieved there was a distraction from his inattentiveness. 


"You said you had good news?" 


"Well, good and bad. We've developed a countermeme that should 
end the Daevite meme in days." 


"Excellent! And the bad?" 


"It seems Stage Fright has worn off. People develop an immunity; 
we won't be able to use it again." 


He frowned. "Hmm. Well, at least you found the cure just in time. | 
guess we'll have to contain memetics the old-fashioned way. I'll 
send out the orders to deploy the countermeme." He leaned back, 
and noticed the metal object Claire was admiring in her hand. 


"So what's with the gyroscope?" 


Claire smiled, putting it in her pocket. "Just a present for my niece's 
birthday." 


Where Bad Children Go 


Though a powerful mind can overwrite all of existence, it 
requires significant discipline to truly eradicate what has 
come before. A burst of reality-altering energy, if 
unfocused, might radically change the overall nature of 
the world while only slightly altering objects on an 
individual basis, much as lightly running an eraser over a 
chalkboard smudges the writing without removing it 
completely. 

- Dr. Leonard Clarence, On Reality, Unreality, and the In- 
Between 


In the Beginning 


It could have been anyone's fault, really. In a way, that was what 
made it so terrible. 


Stacks of papers shuffled to and fro between Foundation offices, 
requesting changes in position, alterations in schedule, amenities for 
contained individuals, and a thousand other modifications. Each 
appeal was slight, each approval minor. None, it seemed, amounted 
to any more than mere creature comforts. 


Someone with a degree and a dark sense of humor requested a few 
of his favorite books for use in experimentation on a text-altering 
anomaly. Someone with a pen and a growling stomach put their 
signature on the paper without fully reading it. Someone with ink- 
covered hands and a history of insomnia smudged the document, 
and desperately tried to correct it. Someone with blurry eyes and an 
overloaded schedule entered the corrected text into a datafile. So it 
went for several hours, mistake piling upon oversight piling upon 
judgement failure, until at eleven o'clock the next morning, a small 
girl was given several new books. 


At noon, she began reading. 


At twelve-thirty, she decided she did not like the new books very 
much. Something about them made her feel sad and angry and sick. 
But most of all, something about them made her feel scared. So she 
closed her eyes, held her breath, and imagined a world in which she 
wasn't scared, in which everything would make sense and all the 
bad things were in the places where they belonged. 


When she opened her eyes, she no longer saw the concrete and 
steel she had become used to. Around her, she saw stained, rotting 
wood, quietly creaking itself to death. She felt a stack of papers in 
her hands, and smelled sawdust and spilled ink. Somewhere close 
by, a school bell tolled. 


And she smiled, because she wasn't scared anymore. 


Miss Holloway wishes to welcome you all to another 
education-filled day at her esteemed School. Student 
satisfaction checks will be carried out at random 
throughout the day, so remember to have a pleasant 
morning in order to avoid disciplinary action. 


Miss Holloway's School for Children with 
Potential 


The morning bell signaled a rush of activity, as students leapt, rolled, 
or were forced out of their beds and began their daily routine. Across 
several miles of dormitory floors, children slipped into school 
uniforms, put the finishing touches on their homework, and set out 
for the nearest cafeteria. 


Students spiraled upwards and downwards along vast staircases, 
and dashed through hallways that curved around at impossible 
angles, sometimes leaving students to travel along the ceiling of 
another walkway. Sometimes, an inattentive student would stumble 
and fall through a hole in the floor, vanishing into the relentless void 


between the walls of the school and emerging on another floor 
entirely. 


Three mischievous brothers sold contraband goods out of their 
pockets, while another student stuck out her tongue at them and 
exchanged small, handmade toys for pens, books, and completed 
homework assignments. 


The gramophone horns mounted on the wall crackled to life, 
shouting orders and occasional jeers at students as they made their 
way through the halls. 


Far above it all, in a shadowed, musty conference hall, the thirteen 
members of the School Administration met to discuss their plans for 
the day, outlining what students should be monitored, what students 
could be manipulated, and what students needed to be reminded of 
their place. 


A scream drifted through the school as an unlucky student tripped 
and fell into the basement. Fortunately, it was quickly silenced, to be 
replaced by snarl, and then a softer gnawing sound. 


It was another day in Miss Holloway's School for Children with 
Potential, just like every other day that had been, and every other 
day that would be. The school aimed to be eternal, and it rested 
upon a solid foundation.