“Yeah... The kid’s a Saker. We've got ourselves a Saker.” 
“Then why didn’t the EMP stun him?” 

“| don’t know, it should have, but it didn’t.” 


“And...” Shaw’s brow rose in confusion. “Anderson should be able to 
remotely terminate him...” 


“Exactly, but Anderson hasn't yet,” Merlo shouted in excitement, 
“And on top of that, you said you saw Phineas consider destroying 


him, but then change his mind. That means that this kid must be 
very, very special to someone.” 


“But who?” Shaw asked, slowly wheeling herself backwards from 
her hysterical colleague. 


“Isn’t that the million dollar question,” Merlo replied with a chuckle. 
“However, since the kid is not going anywhere, | think we are ina 
pretty damn good position to find out.” 

Merlo then began to make her way towards the door. 

“Stick around Shaw,” she said with devious smile, “you’re going to 


see some serious shit.” 


Start | The Elusive Anderson | Part Two: Finding Anderson» 


Finding Anderson 


Agent Clarissa Shaw stood silently, looking into the contents of a 
Site-—64 interrogation room. Sitting at the table inside was a Saker 
who called itself Miles Wilson, an android designed to resemble an 
African-American man in his mid to late twenties. Agent Shaw 
brushed a strand of her blond hair out of her eyes as she reviewed 
the contents of a file she held in her arms. With a minuscule smile, 
she pushed up her thin rimmed glasses and entered the 
interrogation room. 


“Afternoon Miles,” Shaw began as she took a seat at the table, 
neatly placing the folder in front of her. Miles immediately looked 
away, his gaze focused anywhere else rather than risk eye contact 
with the agent. 


“Hello Ms. Starling,” Miles mumbled. 


“You can call me Agent Shaw,” Shaw began, “I told you already that 
was just a cover.” 


“| liked you better when you were Ms. Starling,” Miles replied. “You 
seemed nicer then.” 


Miles then paused; his eyes looked around the room but still refused 
to make eye contact. 


“That was a Silence of the Lambs reference, right?” He asked, 
“Agent Starling?” 


“Correct,” Shaw said with a smirk, “Fitting, don’t you think?” 


“Whatever you say,” said Miles. “I don’t have anything else to tell 
you.” 


“Oh, | doubt that,” Shaw said as she opened the file and scanned its 
contents. “I think there is still a lot you can tell me, like what your 


particular purpose as a Saker unit was.” 


“| don’t know what you’re talking about...” Miles shook his head. “I’m 
sure | would know if | was a robot. Clearly I’m not.” 


Shaw sighed, pulled a photograph from the file, and slid it across the 
table. 


“What do you see here, Miles?” She asked. 


Miles looked down. The photo was of him in a college baseball 
uniform, standing among several other players. He smirked as he 
slid the photo back across the table. 


“You have a picture of me from when | played baseball for the 
Beavers, so what?” He said, his gaze shifting to the one way mirror. 


“That picture was taken for a newspaper article that was published 
in 1998,” Shaw replied as she placed the photo back in the file. 
“You’re how old? 23? 25? You should be in your late thirties by now, 
but it appears you haven’t aged. On top of that, my friends did some 
digging. The Miles Wilson pictured here died in 2001 from small-cell 
carcinoma.” 


Miles closed his eyes tight and violently shook his head. Shaw could 
hear him mutter, “stop” under his breath. 


“| think someone in Miles Wilson’s family is very close to 
Anderson, if not Anderson themselves,” Shaw continued, “And | 
think Anderson made you as a surrogate. You’re designed to look 
and act as human as possible. Anderson hasn’t terminated you yet 
because you're too special. | wouldn’t be surprised if...” 


“Why are you doing this?” Miles interrupted, slamming his fist down 
on the table with a sickening thud, his eyes filled with tears as he 
finally made eye contact, “Why are you guys trying so hard to tell me 
I’m something I’m not? What does it matter to you if | think I'ma 
human or a robot? At the end of the day I’ve still told you everything 
| know!” 


“As | said before, | doubt that,” Shaw said coolly. “I imagine we'll find 
out soon enough.” 


Agent Shaw sat in the office of Agent Sasha Merlo, leader of MTF 
Gamma-13, Asimov's Lawbringers. While Shaw sat back in her 
chair, relaxed and with a cup of coffee, Merlo’s eyes remained glued 
to the phone, biting her nails. A portion of the MTF had been 
deployed to the residence of Jeffery Wilson, Mile’s father, to bring 
the man into Foundation custody. Now they both waited to hear the 
mission status. The room remained silent, save for the ticking of 
Merlo’s electric blue clock on the wall. 


“Aha!” Merlo ecstatically shouted as the phone rang, the sudden 
influx of noise forcing Shaw to jump and spill some of her coffee. 
Shaw attempted to regain her composure as Merlo flipped to phone 
on to speaker. 


“Go for Merlo!” 


“Merlo, this is Carter. We're at the Wilson residence,” A man’s voice 
came over the speaker, heavy rain could be heard in the 
background. “It’s gone.” 


Shaw watched the color drain from Merlo’s face. Her smile morphed 
into an expression much more solemn. 


“What?” 


“It’s gone!” Carter repeated. “The house is burnt to the ground. 
There’s nothing here. We're combing the area, but | don’t think the 
search will...” 


Merlo hung up. Slowly she sank back into her office chair and spun 
around, turning away from her companion. 


“Just once, | want us to be faster.” 


“There’ still a chance. If the rest of the team combs the area, 
maybe...” Shaw began, only to stop talking when Merlo shook her 
head. 


“The man’s house burnt down. Something tells me it wasn’t because 
he left the goddamn stove on,” Merlo replied. “No, Wilson knew we 
were coming. He’s long gone.” 


Merlo then got to her feet and began to head towards the door. 
“Do you want back up?” Shaw asked. 


“| should do this alone,” Merlo called back, and disappeared into the 
hall. 


Edgar Holman, Site Director 


Merlo took a deep breath as she read the name plate on the door, 
and then gave a sharp knock. 


“It's open,” Called a man’s voice from inside. 


Merlo took a moment to compose herself before stepping inside. 
The office itself was quite large. Numerous shelves lined the walls, 
each filled with minor anart items that had been brought to Site-64 
over the years, but didn’t require official object classification. At the 
back of the room was a large desk covered in a slew of files each 
labeled “Clayton.” Sitting in a rather large chair behind the desk was 
a tall, sharply dressed man with slicked back hair. 


“Merlo?” Holman asked. His voice was a deep bass. 


“Director,” Merlo said with a halfhearted chuckle, “We’ve had some 
developments with Wilson...” 


“Oh? Go on.” Holman quietly placed the folder he was reading down 
and made it clear she had his undivided attention. 


“Gone,” Merlo cringed, “The residence was burnt to the ground. 
Carter is having the rest of the crew comb the area, but you already 
know how that will go.” 


Holman nodded in agreement. A sympathetic smile came to his 
face. 


“We just can’t win, can we?” 


“Maybe not this time, but we still have the Saker. I’m sure that we 
haven't exhausted that avenue yet.” 


was most likely taken directly from [DATA REDACTED]. 
« SCP-727 | SCP-728 | SCP-729 » 


Holman’s smile quickly morphed into a frown. 


“About that,” Holman said with a sigh, “I just got word from 
Overwatch. The Saker is to be transferred to Site-81.” 


“Excuse me?” Merlo nervously chuckled. 


“I’m sorry, Sasha,” Holman replied, “It’s out of my hands. Security 
reasons.” 


“Those motherfuckers broke into Site-19!” Merlo shouted as she 
banged her hand on the desk, “How the hell is Site-81 going to 
help? You’re just going to let that bald quack take our prize? We lost 
three agents during the last raid! Aside from that punk out at Site-84, 
Gammaz-13 is the authority on Anderson...” 


“Agent Merlo!” Holman’s voice filled the room like a sonic boom; 
Merlo took several steps back from the table. 


Merlo remained silent for a few moments as Holman took a few 
deep breaths. 


“Edgar, please,” said Merlo, “Don’t let them do this to us.” 
Holman closed his eyes and slowly shook his head. 
“There’s nothing more | can do. I’m sorry.” 


Merlo nodded in understanding. With a sigh she turned and began 
to head to the door. 


“Oh, Sasha,” Said Holman as Merlo began to disappear into the hall, 
“Remember that you’re still in charge of Miles until the transfer. Do 
with that information what you will.” 


Merlo gave Holman a sly smile and nod before quietly disappearing 
into the hall. There was work to be done. 


Agent Merlo sat alone in her office, her eyes glazed over as she 
furiously scanned document after document from Anderson's POI 
file. 


“There’s got to be something here...” she mumbled to herself. 
Merlo’s phone then rang. 


“Go for Merlo,” she impatiently shouted as she picked up the 
receiver. 


“Ah, um... this is the office of Sasha Merlo, yes?” asked a deep, 
metallic, male voice. “I have to say that it’s very nice to have a 
chance to finally speak with you.” 


Merlo froze. 
“Who is this?” She ask. 


“Oh yeah, sorry about that, I’m Anderson,” he replied, “I, uh, | 
believe you’re familiar with my work.” 


There was a pause. Merlo wasn’t sure what to say. This was 
Anderson? 


“Why should | believe you?” Merlo hesitantly asked. 


“Well, if you put me on speaker phone | could disable that Amur unit 
that’s been in your office the last two days.” 


Merlo immediately dropped the phone and reached for her pistol, 
quickly scanning the entire room before she heard the laughter 
coming from the other end. 


“Yeah, uh, | was just kidding,” Anderson chuckled. 
“You have my attention,” Merlo hissed, “Why call just now?” 


“Oh, right! Well, you see, you are right to think that Miles is very 
valuable to me. | was sort of hoping that maybe | could pick him up. 


“... You're serious.” 
“As cancer,” Anderson replied. 


“That’s not going to happen,” said Merlo, her eyes were wide in 
confusion. 


“| thought you might say that...” Anderson sighed, “I wish this wasn’t 
always so difficult.” 


“I’m sorry?” Merlo asked. “I’m making this difficult for you?” 


“Don't get me wrong Sasha,” said Anderson, “I really do like what it 
is you and the Foundation do. | think it’s, uh, the bee’s knees. You 
guys do things I'd never want to touch, you know, containing eldritch 
horrors and such. |, uh, | just wish you weren’t so quick to squash 
the little inventors. Given enough time even anomalous technology 
becomes mainstream. | mean, Christ, if we were cavemen you guys 
would try to contain fire because it would be too spooky for your 
tastes. Do you know what I’m saying?” 


Merlo didn’t respond. This was Anderson? 


“Well, fuck it then,” Anderson said after several more moments of 
silence. “I, uh, guess I'll just have to come get him myself. | was 
really hoping it wouldn’t come to that. Oh well. | guess I'll see you 
soon Sasha. Tell Ms. Starling hello for me.” 


The line went dead. 


Merlo then felt something move on her neck. Out of reflex she 
quickly snatched at the spot and threw the object away. A small 
black ball bounced against the wall and came to rest on the ground. 
The object quickly produced a set of legs and a red spot for an eye. 
Merlo recognized it as one of Anderson’s Amur Recon Drones. Ina 
flash, the tiny robot scaled the wall of her office, and disappeared 
into the ventilation system. Merlo’s mouth hung open for a few 
moments before she slumped back into her chair. 


“Well, fuck...” 
That was Anderson. 


«Part One: Hunting Anderson | The Elusive Anderson | Part 
Three: Meeting Anderson» 


Meeting Anderson 


Agent Sasha Merlo yawned as she slowly moved through the halls 
of Site-64, a mug of stale coffee in her hands. She had not gotten 
much sleep over the past few days. The current rush to extract as 
much usable data from Miles Wilson, and the looming possibility of 
an attack from the POI known as Anderson, had created an 
environment entirely hostile to the concept of rest. Merlo stopped in 
front of the door to her office and rubbed her eye with her free hand 
before stepping inside. As the door closed behind her, she took a sip 
of the acrid liquid in her mug before noticing that she was not alone, 
as another individual was reading a file left on her desk. 


Standing behind her desk was a masculine figure of medium height. 
lt wore a bright red shirt underneath a charcoal blazer with matching 
slacks. Its skin was the color of ivory, and completely hairless, veins 
visible beneath the room’s bright light. Its head was without ears, 
and its face was obscured behind a silver comedy mask. The 
individual stood up straight and looked at an unimpressive watch on 
its right wrist. 


“Oh, uh, you're back early,” it said in a deep, metallic, male voice. 
“Your, uh, your average coffee break is not supposed to be over for 
at least another fifteen minutes.” 


Merlo recognized the voice in an instant. She immediately dropped 
her mug, her hand reaching towards her pistol. Before she could get 
her fingers around the grip, the unwelcome guest had reached into 
his pockets and flung globs of fluorescent orange goo at her. As the 
first glob made contact, she felt her hand stick to her chest, the 
substance hardening instantaneously into a shell. The remaining 
globs hit her in the legs and on her other arm, encasing her ina 
bright orange cocoon. 


Agent Merlo looked up, her breath caught in her throat as a million 
scenarios ran through her mind, each ending in a progressively 
worse outcome for both her and the rest of Gamma-13. The man 


stood above her, a glob of neon blue goo in one hand as he held up 
a finger to the mouth of his mask. 


“You should, um, you should remember what the blue stuff does 
from your run in with Phineas,” said the intruder. “If you scream or, 
uh, call for help, | will lob this onto your face.” 


Merlo immediately fell silent. Her gaze unwavering as she watched 
her assailant reach into the inner pocket of his jacket and place a 
small silver orb on Merlo’s desk. The orb immediately sprouted 
several mechanical legs, and revealed itself to be one of Anderson’s 
Amur Recon Drones. The man made a small gesture, and the Amur 
began to issue a small hum. He then placed the blue goo back in his 
jacket pocket and then set about propping Merlo against a wall. 


“Okay,” he said, “You can, uh, you can speak freely now.” 


“Why?” Merlo asked, her eyes narrowing as she looked at the Amur 
on her desk. 


“l, uh, call this little guy Benny,” he replied, the Amur waved at her 
with one of its many legs. “He’s a custom Amur | built myself. One of 
his features is a noise cancellation device. Nothing we say, um, will 
be audible outside this room.” 


The man then returned to the area behind Merlo’s desk and took a 
seat in her chair. 


“You, uh, you probably already guessed this by now, but I’m 
Anderson,” he said as he sat down. “Pleased to meet you, Sasha, | 
guess.” 


“The pleasure’s all mine,” Merlo replied flatly. Anderson gave an 
awkward nod of agreement, and then turned his attention to the 
open file on her desk. The room fell silent, save for Benny’s low 
hum. After several minutes Merlo finally opted to speak. 


“So that’s it then?” She asked, “You're just going to read your file 
and walk out of here?” 


“Well, uh, I’m not going to kill you, if that’s what you think,” Anderson 
replied with a chuckle, “You guys all seem to think I’m some kind of 


James Bond villain when I’m just a small business owner. To be 
honest | was hoping to avoid a confrontation like this entirely. You, 
uh, just came back too early.”