Anderson held out his palm. Benny stood at its center, the little droid 
shaking its nubby legs in a fashion reminiscent of a 'tada!' The tiny 
droid leaped off his hand and scurried away across the grass, the 
two boys shouting in glee as they chased it. Anderson smiled and 
brushed loose pieces of grass off his slacks as he watched them run 
around. 


"You really are their hero, Vince," said a voice from behind. 


Anderson turned to see the familiar face of his brother, Adrian. Like 
Anderson, he had dark hair and tan skin, but stood half a foot 
shorter, and was seven years younger. Adrian had his arm wrapped 
around a woman with sandy hair, whom Anderson recognized as his 
sister-in-law, Phoebe. 


"| try," Anderson said with a grin. "To be honest | think they just like 


me for my toys." 


"Maybe," Phoebe commented, "but to be fair, your toys are pretty 
cool." 


Anderson chuckled, and watched as his nephews jumped up and 
down at the base of the tree, trying to reach the small Amur drone 
that was taunting them from the branches. 


"You look good, Vince," Adrian continued, gesturing up and down 
Anderson's figure "What all did you do this time?" 


"Heh, If | had known my regular body was so jarring | would have 
made this switch a long time ago," Anderson said with a melancholy 
laugh. "I'm afraid this is a puppet | dressed up to look like me. | got a 
little tied-down in person, and so | had to send in the next best 
thing." 


"Well, in person or remotely, the kids and us both appreciate the 
visit," Phoebe replied cheerfully. "Seriously, we know you're a busy 
guy, so these are always a treat." 


"Thanks," said Anderson. "Always nice to be appreciated..." 


The trio fell silent for a moment, watching as the two boys in the 
distance used one another as stilts, only to lose their balance and 
fall back to earth. Benny proceeded to drop down onto them as they 
lay in the grass before scurrying away towards another tree. The 
boys lost no time resuming their chase. 


"Speaking of trips," Anderson broke the silence, "where do you two 
want to go for your anniversary this year?" 


"Vince," Adrian began, smiling as he shook his head, "you really 
don't..." 


"If you don't tell me, I'll ask Josh and Craig," Anderson threatened 
with a smile. "I bet they'll say Disneyland again." 


"Could we offer a counter-proposal?" Phoebe chimed in. "Instead of 
paying for us to go on a trip for our anniversary... maybe you come 
with us? We'd love to travel with you. Adrian said you spent time in 


Europe when you were younger. Said you'd be a fantastic guide..." 


Anderson remained in quiet thought as he watched the boys in the 
distance succeed in finally catching Benny, the older boy holding the 
tiny drone aloft in success as the younger stomped around in 
victory. 


"Why?" Anderson finally asked. 
"Why?" Adrian repeated. 
"Yeah, why? What on earth do you two want me tagging along for?" 


"Vince," Adrian said, taken aback. "You're my brother. You've 
always looked after me. If you're going to insist on sending us on 
these trips you might as well tag along once in a blue moon. We 
really don't see you outside these short visits..." 


Adrian stopped as his sons returned to them, triumphantly holding 
Benny high as if he was a hunting trophy. 


"We got'm!" the younger boy shouted. "He tried to climb a tree, but 
we got'm!" 


"You sure did," Anderson said as he ruffled the boy's hair again, and 
got down on a knee. The boys gently placed the robot in his out 
stretched palm and watched, wide-eyed, as Benny proceeded to 
crawl up his arm, around his head, then down his back before 
vanishing into his pocket. 


"So..." Anderson looked back at Phoebe. "Where did you want to 
go?" 


August 19th, 2020 


In the end, Anderson provided the SCP Foundation with a list of five 
names of current and former MC&D suppliers who handled the 
Gyrfalcon Series sales. In exchange Labelle and her team provided 
parts and tools he needed for repairs. Shortly after completing one 
of many repairs, Anderson fell asleep and reentered the coma-like 
state he had been in since being captured by the Foundation. 


Without anything else to be done, Shaw and Merlo were called back 
to Site-64, while the diligent members of MTF Kappa-10 began their 
work within the MC&D intranet to make use of Anderson's report. 
The adventure concluded in the same manner as all MTF 
Gammaz-13 adventures: A brief trip to the Secret Crest Pub in 
Portland, followed by paperwork. 


"How are you and Lily doing?" Merlo asked her friend as she placed 
an empty pint glass down on the table. 


"That broke apart weeks ago," Shaw said with a sigh. "It was... 
complicated. I've started seeing Roland again." 


"I'm sure Roland appreciates that," Merlo chuckled. "Still, sorry to 
hear about Lily. She was nice." 


"She sure was." Shaw stared into her drink. "How's Gabe and Jessie 
anyway?" 


"Can't complain. Gabe's a huge dork as always. Jessie's, well, a 
preschooler. So, you know, fun times there." 


Shaw laughed and nodded in understanding. 


"Still can't believe that the great Sasha Merlo ended up marrying 
one of the Site-64 accountants. You could have had anyone, but you 
chose the math guy." 


"Screw you." Sasha grinned, "Gabe's the best. He's on the right side 
of the veil so | don't have to tiptoe around him. | don't have to worry 
about him getting dragged to the seventh circle of hell unless he 
manages to summon a calculator demon. Plus, he's a good father 
and an even better cook. I'll take my accountant over whatever it is 
you're doing." 


"You sure shot me down quick." Shaw let out a laugh and held out 
her hands in mock surrender. 


"| play to win." 


"Ahem." 


Shaw and Merlo turned to find that they had been approached by a 
man in a black and red suit with long black hair tied back in a 
braided ponytail. He grinned at them and placed a small box on the 
table. 


"My name is Mr. Saker," he said. "The board at Anderson Robotics 
wanted me to present you with this, Agent Shaw." 


"We really have to stop meeting like this..." Merlo commented as 
she watched him slide the box across the table. "Also, Christ, do 
they even bother to name you guys anymore?" 


"There are hundreds of us, Agent Merlo," he replied. "After a while 
they stop caring about names unless it’s something mission-critical. 
Don't need a fancy name to be a courier." 


"You think we are just going to open a box from a known enemy 
agent?" Shaw asked. 


"You think we'd be stupid enough to launch an unprovoked attack 
against the Foundation, in one of their fronts, for shits and giggles?" 


Shaw looked at the box for several moments. She looked to Merlo 
who only offered a shrug. With a sigh, Shaw picked up the box and 
opened it. Inside was a small black strip of medical grade plastic, 
with several tiny mechanical probes running down its side. Shaw 
examined the piece of equipment and then looked quizzically at the 
Saker. 


"It’s a new model of the Gyrfalcon series," he commented. "It will 
serve as a repair for your damaged spine. Should allow you to walk 
again. Nothing fancy." 


"And this is what?" Shaw asked. "A way for AR to say sorry for what 
Anderson did? Just going to offer up equipment to the SCP 
Foundation, and hope for us to be buddy-buddy?" 


"Consider it a sign of good will while you have our CEO in lock down 
at your Site-19." 


"I'll have to turn this in to containment! They're not going to let me 
use this!" 


himself turning to drugs more often to "hide away from the truth". In 
custody and deprived of his usual chemical relief, the suspect 
became comatose and died a week later. The circumstances of the 
acquisition has led to proposals to test SCP-592 in combination with 
psychedelic drugs (see Proposal - ). 


Addendum 592-a: The chemical properties of SCP-592 have been 
studied by Dr. Grayson and the Chemical Forensics team. Dr. 
Grayson reports that: 


Samples were obtained by means of cutting small 
squares of paper from the book, while wearing distortion 
goggles. The squares were small enough to contain no 
more than one word. Squares containing portions of 
illustrations were covered by black opaque tape as soon 
as extracted. Our results indicate that the chemical 
properties of SCP-592 differ very little from any other 
color publication. The paper primarily consists of 
cellulose from common woods, and the black and yellow 
inks are standard. It has been found, however, that some 
chemicals used in the cyan and magenta inks, while 
entirely known to science, are not normally used in the 
industry. An expert in inks and dyes has commented that 
the chemicals would be an inferior but acceptable 
substitute to those currently in use if certain metal 
elements were much scarcer, and therefore much more 
expensive, than they are today. 


Testing Protocol: 


SCP-592 is under no circumstances to be read by a human unless 
that person is a subject of an authorised test. 


SCP-592 is only to be analysed by computer, using the systems 
provided. The book is to be scanned on a per-page basis using the 
scanner provided. The scanned image is then sent to the analysis 
machine. The scanner and other devices are modified such that they 
can be used while wearing the visual distortion goggles (Note: 
researchers must pass Training Course 305-S: Intermediate Braille 
and Training Course 10-E: Use of SCP Imaging Software before 
being approved to test SCP-592). 


"They don't have to know about it," the Saker shrugged. "Honestly, 
what you do with it at this point is your business. Our conscience on 
this matter is clear." 


He gave them a nod and began to walk away. 
"You two have a nice rest of your evening." 


Shaw and Merlo watched the android leave in silence, then both 
stared at the small plastic strip that tantalizingly sat within the box 
between them. 


"Are you thinking about it?" Merlo eventually asked. 


Shaw nodded, and continued to stare at it in silence for several 
moments before finally asking, "Did Dan ever get around to installing 
that robo-arm?" 


Earlier... 


It was late in the early afternoon when Vincent Anderson knocked 
on the door to a nondescript apartment within a Portland suburb. He 
was surprised when a man with glasses and stubble answered, and 
not the SCP Foundation agent he was expecting. 


"Afternoon," the man said, with a raised eyebrow. A child's voice 
could be heard from somewhere beyond the door. "May | help you?" 


"Ah... yes," Anderson replied, "is this the residence of Sasha 
Merlo?" 


"It is..." the man replied cautiously. "I'm Gabe Merlo, her husband, 
how may | help you?" 


Anderson paused for a moment and then chuckled. 
"Oh man," he said. "| had no idea she had a family..." 


He pulled out a silver business card and flashed it at Gabe. The 
man's eyes became dilated as the card's memetic effect took hold. 


"| was just stopping by to drop something off for her and one of her 
associates," Anderson continued. "May | come in? I'd love to talk to 
you." 


Gabe gave a slow nod and stepped aside, allowing Anderson to 
enter. 


"Who's that, daddy?" a little girl wno was coloring at the nearby 
coffee table commented. Her brown hair was tied back in a ponytail, 
a style that reminded Anderson of Sasha Merlo. 


"He's just a friend of mommy's," Gabe answered as he closed the 
door. "Feel free to have a seat, Mister..." 


"Call me Vince," Anderson replied with a sly grin. "What a lovely 
family you have here..." 


Later... 


The sun was beginning to set when Sasha Merlo finally returned to 
her home and family. With a tired sigh, she opened her front door to 
the sound of Jessie playing and the smell of Pad Thai. 


"Done saving the world, sweetie?" Gabe called from the kitchen. His 
bespectacled head poked around the corner with a grin. 


"You know it," Merlo called. She trudged into the kitchen and had a 
seat at the table. Gabe gave her a quick peck on the forehead 
before returning to the task at hand. 


"You had a visitor while you were away," said Gabe as he prepared 
several plates. 


"What?" Merlo raised an eyebrow. "Someone from the site?" 


"No, he was definitely something else. Figured he was a contact of 
yours from Third Portland, or whatever it’s called." 


"What was his name?" 


Gabe paused and thought for several moments, then chuckled as he 


shook his head. "You know... | don't remember. He left a card 
though." 


Gabe put a plate of Pad Thai down before her, and then slid a silver 
business card into her hands. As Merlo began to read it, he left the 
room to bring Jessie to the table. Merlo became pale as she read 
the front, then quickly flipped the card over to the back. 


& 


You really have a wonderful family, Sasha. Your 
daughter is absolutely adorable, and Gabe is a pretty 
decent guy. 

Thank you for your hospitality 
Vincent Anderson 


Merlo's hands shook as realization set in. Her mouth felt dry, and 
her arms felt heavy as they rested on the tabletop. 


"Hey Gabe," Merlo called after her husband. "Do you remember 
what this guy looked like?" 


"Tan skin, braided ponytail, and a red and black suit," Gabe 
commented as he carried a still giggling Jessie into the room and set 
her down in a booster seat. "Why?" 


"Mommy!" Jessie exclaimed, "Look what your friend let me play with! 
He said | could keep it until you got back!" 


Merlo looked to see Jessie holding Benny in the palm of her hand. 
The tiny droid gave a wave, and then vanished in a puff of black 
smoke. Jessie laughed and clapped at the tiny display of magic. 


"You okay, honey?" Gabe asked. 


Merlo had become pale. Without a word, she stood up and went 
over to Jessie, and began to hold her daughter in a tight hug. 


"Sasha?" Gabe asked again. Merlo shook her head and waved him 
over. As soon as he was in range, she pulled him into the hug as 
well. 


August 22nd, 2020 


Vincent Anderson sat in his office at the Anderson Robotics 
Headquarters. As always, there were stacks of papers to be read, 
things to sign, memos to browse, meetings to plan, and designs to 
review. However, rather than bothering himself with running his 
business, Anderson plugged a flash drive into the large monitor on 
the wall behind his desk and waited. Within several minutes, the 
screen began to display a different cluttered office. Sitting at the 
desk was an old man with a long white beard, dressed all in black 
save for a red tie. 


"Afternoon, Phineas," Anderson said solemnly. 


The man on the screen remained silent. His eyes were filled with a 
cold hatred as he stared straight ahead. 


"| don't have to remind you that | can force your Al construct to 
speak, do |?" Anderson eventually asked. 


"You do not," Phineas replied. "But considering how you keep me 
around so you can talk to an unaltered version of my Al construct, | 
doubt you'd actually do that. Anyway, to what do | owe the 
pleasure?" 


"| recycled the Saker | was using to represent you, just as you 
asked. Is there anything else | can do for you? Make you more 
comfortable. Absolutely anything is possible in your space." 


"To what benefit?" Phineas inquired. "Albert Frostman is dead. You 
killed him yourself. I'm just a program designed to simulate his 
thoughts as close as it can. I'm not real!" 


"You're real enough in that virtual world of yours, and given an 
internet connection you'd be real enough in this world as well." 


"But you won't give me internet access for obvious reasons, so I'm 
left king of my little pocket dimension. A real Ozymandias! Look at 
my works and tremble!" 


The background around Phineas faded into black, leaving him 
standing alone in an empty void. 


"You might as well delete me, because this whole charade has gone 
on long enough." 


"I'm not going to delete you, Phineas," Anderson whispered. "| need 
you..."