Nobody scuttled out of the elevator, under the line of fire. The 
guards in the surprisingly spacious lobby had stopped firing after the 
first round, but still looked ready to resume at any moment. Once 
safely away from being immediately killed, he stood and surveyed 
the room. 


A lobby that had to take up a good fifth of the floor, with keycard- 
protected doors set in all the interior walls. A modern-looking glass- 
and-chrome receptionist's desk sat in the middle of the room with an 
open laptop and phone sitting on it, along with a few loose papers 
paperclipped together, a few pens and highlighters, and a large 3- 
ring binder. Four guards in plainsclothes stood in a semicircle 
around the elevator, standard Foundation-issue handguns pointed 
into it. Oh, wait, one of those was a stungun. Well, at least there was 
the possibility that someone wanted to catch him alive, so there's 
that. 


Nobody kept an eye on the guards as he investigated the open 
laptop. Looked like a duty roster, a logbook, a— hello, what's this? 
An email alerting the whole Site that Director Kondraki was going to 
visit the Site tomorrow. No details as to why, but those wouldn't be 
in a general email, anyway. 


Two of the guards had started sweeping the room while the others 
remained focused on the elevator. One pressed her finger to her 
earpiece. 


"No visual contact on the intruder. Elevator appeared to be empty on 
arrival. Please advise." 


Nobody only paid partial attention while he flipped through the 
papers. Requisition form, requisition form, requisition form with 
doodles in the margin, photocopy of a barley stew recipe? Hmm, 
looked tasty. Might as well keep it. 


Now to get past those doors. No keycard conveniently hidden under 
the laptop and he didn't see any dangling from lanyards. Really, all 
he could do was convince them to come out. 


Nobody crouched back below the line of fire and leaned into the 
open elevator, pressed the button for the ground floor, then quickly 
backed out and away from the killzone. A second later, the elevator 
dinged and the doors slid closed. He heard it start clacking away 
down the shaft. 


The guard with the earpiece holstered her weapon. "Are you sure it 
wasn't a malfunction, Command? It just closed and headed back 
down. Nobody was on it." 


A pause. A nod. "Yes, sir." 
She jerked her head towards one of the closed doors. 


"Everyone, return to stations. Command is letting the lower floors 
handle it from here." 


She fished a keycard out of her pocket (oh, there it was) and swiped 
it through one of the readers. The door unlocked with a clunk and 
she pushed it open. The one armed with a stungun sat at the desk 
and the other two left the room. Nobody slipped in behind them, 
managing to get in without touching the door. 


The next room was small. A mesh-fronted weapon cabinet on one 
side and a long desk with a trio of monitors showing the downstairs 
lobby, the room they'd just left, and what looked like an interrogation 
room. No one in there, but intriguing. Why in the world would they 
put a security station this easily accessible to the main area? 


The guards settled into a couple of chairs, looking alert. They were 


definitely still on edge about the intrusion. Another door in the 
opposite wall promised further secrets to plumb, but getting through 
it without notice was going to be tricky. 


Nobody pulled out a small tablet that had a Factory logo stamped on 
the back. It'd been a bitch getting a hold of this prototype and the 
cost to use it was distasteful, but it had its uses. He brought the 
optical sensor up to his eye and strained to keep his lids open as it 
scanned his retina. He hardly noticed when the tiny needle almost 
painlessly stabbed into it to get a DNA confirmation sample. The 
screen turned on, showing a set of icons, glyphs, runes, and other 
arcane symbols. Everything that the tablet could do was technically 
possible using non-anomalous technology, but the speed and 
precision that it delivered results hinted strongly at retrocausal 
effects. 


Nobody tapped one of the glyphs, typed in a short series of 
commands, and hit "enter". Immediately the lights and monitors 
turned off. He also heard a kachunk as magnetic locks in the inner 
door deactivated. As the agents scrambled in the darkness, Nobody 
slipped through the now accessible door. 


The other side was a hallway lit by emergency lights, mini-floodlights 
illuminating every 30 feet or so. Not enough to see well by, but 
enough to set the mood. People were beginning to flood the hallway, 
a cacophony of excited voices starting to build. A second after 
Nobody entered the hall, the overhead lights flickered back on anda 
recording started playing over a hidden intercom overhead. 


"Security Drill Active. All Personnel Proceed To Designated Areas. 
Security Drill Active. All Personnel—" 


Nobody tuned it out quickly and proceeded up the hall against the 
flow of bodies. He peeked into the doors as he went. Most were just 
boring looking cubicle farms, but when he glanced in the window set 
into the door at the end of the hall, he saw racks of computer drives. 
A server room! Jackpot! Another keycard access, but... another eye 
poke and a few commands later, the light on the access lock blinked 
green and he pulled open the door. 


Inside stood a dozen racks with row after row of servers and routers 


amidst a tangle of cables. At the far back was a small workstation 
with the monitor still on. Looked like... Samuel Johannsen forgot to 
pull his access card from the keyboard before he skeedadled. Bad 
luck for Sam, good luck for Nobody. 


Looked like it was a standard Foundation OS, nothing Nobody 
hadn't seen before. Click, click, click, and there was the list of 
projects managed by this Site. Hmm... keys to other realms, data 
crunching results from some kind of world-building sim, logistics 
reports for the rest of the state... nothing unique enough to really 
capture his interest. Would be a shame if this was all for naught. 


Hmm, wait. O5-access only files hiding in a folder labeled Rl-class? 
What in the world would those be doing in a minor Site like this? 
Nobody pulled a cord free from the Factory tablet and plugged it into 
the workstation. Operating systems might be proprietary, but USB 
ports were universal. Another eye sampling to unlock the device 
(three times in quick succession was a bit rough, this was probably 
the last he could use it for a few days), a quick tap tap tap of a 
special app and... yes, files copied and password attack ongoing. 
This was probably all he was going to get and he shouldn't press his 
luck, so he tucked his gear away and left the room... 


Into a squad of fully-equipped MTF agents. With perceptual filter 
goggles on. Damn. 


Nobody raised his arms slowly and smiled sheepishly. "Nice day, 
isn't it, fellas?" 


The crackle and jolt of the stungun's probes discharging into him 
weren't really a surprise at that point, and he fell to the ground, 
jerking uncontrollably before mercifully passing out. 


He awoke strapped down to a chair in the middle of the interrogation 
room he'd seen on the monitor, or one very like it. He checked his 
bonds, secure, and then stretched and popped his neck while he 
waited. He was stripped down to his underwear and the chill of the 
room was making his muscles stiff. 


A one-way mirror extended the length of the wall to his left, but he 


was able to see through it with little difficulty. No-one in there at first, 
but a few trickled in over the next few minutes. Someone must've 
noticed he was conscious. Labcoat, labcoat, military uniform? He 
snuck a closer look under cover of stretching his neck. Lots of 
badges, shoulder insignia indicated a US Army major general. One 
last glance and yes, a lanyard with ID card. General Mulhausen. 
Now why was that name familiar? 


He was distracted from his ruminations as a quite angry looking man 
with a pinched face entered the room and rushed up to Nobody. 
Labcoat (he never understood their fetish for unnecessary labcoats), 
lanky, thinning brown-gray hair, essentially interchangeable with any 
number of other researchers he'd seen over the years. Nobody 
caught a glimpse of a small woman at the door before the man 
blocked his view and started shouting at him. 


"Who are you! Who are you working for! Why were you after the files 
for Project Palisade?!" 


The man's breath smelled of fish and mint, a combination which sent 
a mild stab of nausea through Nobody's stomach. 


"I'm Nobody. | would've thought you'd already know that." 


The man's (oh, let's call him Ratface) eyes narrowed and he spat 
back, "Nobody isn't real. Just an urban legend that agents tell to 
spook rookies. Who are you really working for?" 


Nobody sighed internally. Great. One of those. 


"I'm not working for anyone but my own curiosity. You guys always 
have the most interesting tidbits. You didn't hide this place all that 
well, by the way. Much easier to find than Site 19." 


Oh, that got a response from the people behind the mirror. And sure, 
he was provoking Ratface, but that could lead to sloppiness. 
Besides, it was a /ittle fun. 


Ratface grew more livid, face flushing a bright red. He stabbed 
Nobody in the chest with his finger. "Nobody, and | mean nobody, 
has ever infiltrated 19." 


"Exactly." Nobody smiled sardonically. 

Ratface cocked his fist back and the woman spoke quietly. 
"Agent Mitchell." 

Ratface, Mitchell, stopped and lowered his still-clenched fist. 


The woman gently pushed Mitchell to the side and looked down at 
Nobody, expression blank. Well, maybe vaguely curious, in the 
same way that you'd wonder whether or not a fly was going to 
bumble its way out of a partially cracked window. 


"You're an odd one, Mr. Nobody. That Notice-Me-Not lattice woven 
into your coat is making some of our lab boys excited and we've 
been trying to get a copy of the Factory's latest generation of tech 
for quite a while. Thank you for bringing us these gifts. 


"But | too am wondering why you bee-lined straight to our secure 
files if you were just wandering around sightseeing. What exactly 
were you hoping to find?" 


She folded her arms casually, tapping her exposed fingers against 
her arm. Nobody shrugged as best he could while tied down. 


"Luck on my part, | suppose. Bad luck, given that you immediately 
caught me, but still, just random luck." 


He cleared his throat and continued, in a slightly different timbre. "I 
take it those files were about this Project Palisade. Wouldn't you like 
to tell me what that is?" 


Mitchell growled disdainfully at him. "Yes, of course we're going to 
tell you all about our reality firewall program. Everything about using 
alternates for research purposes. That makes total sense." 


The woman narrowed her eyes as Nobody smiled apologetically and 
said, "Well, you can't blame a guy for asking." 


"Yes, | rather think | can. Agent Mitchell, report to CH&P and get a 
level White regimen. You've been compromised." 


Mitchell looked shocked and angry. "What?! | have not! I'm perfec—" 


"Agent Mitchell, you just disclosed sensitive information to an 
individual with unknown capabilities. Go before | file a reprimand." 
The woman's voice remained steady and calm. 


Mitchell darted his gaze to the mirror, flushed an even angrier red, 
and stormed out. The woman waited until he was out of the room 
and the door closed before addressing Nobody. 


"I'm naturally immune to most anomalous compulsion effects, Mister 
Nobody. It's part of why | have my job. Now please, continue. What 
were you planning to do with those files?" 


Nobody briefly furrowed his brow and flicked his eyes up and down 
the woman, seeking some clue in her body language of how to 
proceed. She looked... well, she was... her eyes were... 


Fuck, he couldn't keep any impression of her in his head other than 
her gender. That wasn't a good sign. At least he retained the 
metacognition to recognize that he was missing details. He hated 
antiperceptuals. Well, ones that he wasn't using himself, anyway. 


He sighed. "I don't suppose that you'll believe anything | say at first." 
"No, probably not." 


"Well, I'm telling the truth anyway. | had no agenda coming in here 
other than to poke around and see what stood out. Thanks to 
Mitchell, | now know about the existence of this special project of 
yours that sounds very interesting. | copied those files because they 
looked special, not because | was looking for them specifically." 


The woman nodded slightly. "That seems plausible, at least. A good 
story to start with. Now lets dive a little deeper." 


She pulled a capped needle and vial from her pocket and proceeded 
to fill the needle with a yellow-tinted fluid. Nobody tried to jerk and 
flail as she drew closer with it, but the chair was bolted to the floor 
and his bindings held him tight. She injected a vein in his right wrist 
and he felt a cold sensation surge up his arm. 


"Now, | want you to know that | don't want any harm to come to you, 
Mister Nobody, but we will find out what you know. So let's begin at 
the top. How did you find out about this facility?" 


Nobody's head spun as whatever she'd shot into him started to take 
effect. The rest went predictably from there. 


Nobody woke up on a park bench with a splitting headache and the 
taste of copper and cloying roses in his mouth. Blech. He hated 
amnesiacs. 


He sat up and rubbed his temples, three circles forward, three 
circles back, two forward, two back, one, one. Memories of the past, 
goodness, week? filtered back slowly. 


The woman really was good at her job. He didn't remember ever 
being interrogated quite that thoroughly before. She had been 
meticulous in not sharing any information, too. He had been able to 
glean a little from lip-reading people behind the glass, however, and 
they seemed particularly excitable when he accidentally used the 
word "variable". One of them started shouting a bit and a hint of it 
filtered through the glass before the general shoved him out of the 
room. Something like "extermination" or "escalation". 


It was hard to read the body language of someone he could barely 
concentrate on, especially while drugged, but he had the impression 
that the woman had been moderately bothered that he hadn't given 
her any other conspirators. He would have to assume that he'd be 
under surveillance so long as he stayed in the city, probably until he 
used his abilities to completely and deliberately disappear off their 
radar. Fuck. He rather liked this place. Some really good street food 
vendors. 


He stood and stretched, feeling stiff muscles creak and joints pop as 
his long-constrained body settled back into free movement. Well, 
time to go. He patted himself down. Looked like they'd given him 
back almost all of his stuff, but he'd have to trash what was left of it 
in case there were trackers. Swap clothes at a store, burn the coat, 
smash the tablet (last-gen; did they think he wouldn't notice?) and 
other toys and distribute the parts around town, hit one of his caches