"| Know. | don't know what Wickerford is doing right now, or where 
those results are, but that was her project." 


"What's it like outside?" he asks after a beat. 


"What's it like? | don't know, | suppose it's almost normal." | start 
replaying the past several days in my head. "Well, lots of road 
closures. Stores almost emptied out. Very few people around in 
general. | think most people just stay in their houses." 


"What about all those jobs? Who's working the stores? Who's in the 
office buildings downtown?" 


| pause and blink. "Well, come to think of it, | don't really know." | 
clear my throat and swallow, mouth feeling dry and hands cold. ‘I 
don't know' is too common in my vocabulary nowadays. "All | do 
know is that people are losing their memories very quickly, so | take 
one fifth of the calls and respond to people who need our help." 


"And you drive to these people and use this device on them? Does it 
work?" 


"To my knowledge, yes, it works. But as you mentioned, we need 
Wickerford to finish her research so that we can broaden the scale." 


As if on cue, my cell phone rings. | remove my gloves and answer it, 
leaving the mnestic device half-prepared on the desk. "Site-42 
Offsite Response. This is Agent Trauss speaking.” 


"T-this is the SCP Foundation?" 
"That's correct. Are you experiencing an emergency?" 


"I- fuck, I- God, I'm sorry. | just- | have a hole in the head. Isn't that 
how you said it?" 


"Do you feel you have lost memory of a previously well-understood 
concept, object, or-" 


"Oh God, yes. Yes. Outside, | was- | looked up, and- oh Jesus 
Christ, I'm not making any sense, it hurts to think about-" 


"Do not interact with or think about the concept causing you distress. 
I'm in the middle of an urgent task at the moment, but if you give me 
a minute | can check if another operative is near you." 


"| live on Sedgley Drive, I'm right beside your facility." 


"Okay. Please wait and do not panic." | mute the phone and switch 
to my earpiece. "Rogers, Shaw, are any of you available for a call 
response? I've got a lady on the phone and I'm tied up in the office 
for at least another 30 minutes. She's right there in the 
neighborhood beside 42, should be quick." 


"Got it," Rogers answers after several seconds. "What'd she forget?" 


"Something involving ‘looking up'. Maybe clouds, maybe the fact that 
the Earth orbits the sun. Can't say for sure, so you're going to have 
to pick up the call on line 3." 


"Alright, will do." 


read the paper aloud. When she reached the portion 
covered by the image, she stopped, and protested that 
she was unable to continue. When asked why, D-75009 
claimed that her glasses were too dirty. When it was 
suggested that she simply remove them, D-75009 then 
said that it wouldn't matter, as the room would be too dim 
to read anyhow. The evident falsity of this was pointed 
out to D-75009, who became agitated and unable to 
explain why she couldn't read on, though she maintained 
that there was nothing wrong with her. Subject removed 
from chamber and SCP-997 deactivated. 


Experiment 997-010: 

Date: / / 

Subject: D-class personnel D-436, D-class personnel 
D-15810 

Researcher: Dr. Redman 

Procedure: D-436, who shows signs of severe 
misanthropy, was placed in a test chamber containing an 
activated SCP-997. D-15810 was fitted with an earpiece 
to relay instructions and sent into the chamber. D-436 
did not report seeing anyone else in the chamber with 
him. D-15810 instructed to trip D-436, and does so 
successfully. D-436 asked why he stumbled, and blames 
poor shoes. When questioned on this, he becomes 
defensive, insisting that "These things happen, okay?". 
D-15810 instructed to kick D-436, who reports pain, but 
expresses confusion as to its source. D-15810 then 
instructed to command D-436 to take off his shirt. D-436 
complies, complaining to researchers that it is too hot in 
the testing chamber, and evidently believing it to be his 
own idea. Subjects removed from chamber and SCP-997 
deactivated. 


Level 4 clearance or higher required to view further testing logs. 


« SCP-996 | SCP-997 | SCP-998 » 


| breathe a sigh of relief and thank him before turning back to the 
researcher. "Sorry about that." 


"It's fine." He shifts uncomfortably on the couch. "I'm sure you're sick 
of people asking this, but how much is this going to hurt?" 


"Spinal taps are not pleasant in and of themselves, but | will warn 
you that there is a separate, distinctive sensation associated with 
the information transfer itself, accompanied by vivid and intrusive 
thoughts of the subject matter in question. The procedure lasts 
approximately 20 minutes, maybe fewer. It's important to note that 
you will likely feel as if you are nearing unconsciousness, while not 
actually losing it, for the duration." 


He grimaces. "I should lie down, | guess." 
"Whatever is most comfortable." 


Thomas's face is streaked with tears only a few seconds after I've 
cleaned the injection site and inserted the needle into his spine. | let 
him grab onto my free hand with his sweating fingers, his eyes wide- 
open and pained as they stare toward the opposite wall. 


"You're doing very well. The script is five percent loaded," | tell him. 
My fingers are turning white in his grip, but | don't make him let go. 
Date: June 19 2030 09:38 


From: Eric Radford (of.pcs.nimda| 
drofdare#of.pcs.nimda|drofdare) 


To: Recipient Group: 42_OSR 

Message Subject: Commencement of Project Oceanus 
Attachments: briefing1 .pdf 

Message Body: 


To the agents of Site-42 Offsite Response, 


Following emergency executive approval from the Ethics 
Committee after several weeks of no contact, | am 
officially moving forward with Project Oceanus. 
Researcher Mallory Wickerford's department is not on 
track to develop effective wide-scale targeted mnestics 
within a reasonable time frame, and as you of all 
personnel are aware, we cannot afford to wait any 
longer. 


In all future call response cases, please treat affected 
persons with the latest rendition of Wickerford's 
compliance script (the civilian version, not the employee 
version — please use caution and ensure files are 
correctly named and moved) in addition to any concepts 
the individual wishes to recall. Moving forward, we 
cannot afford to encounter resistance from the civilian 
population under the circumstances set upon us by 
SCP-3848's activity patterns. If collective mnesticization 
must occur on a small scale for the time being, it needs 
to be as straightforward as is possible. 


If, after one month, we see an improvement in the 
numbers, the O5 Council will approve Project Oceanus 
for application in other sites. | am confident in this 
department's performance and expect that you will 
achieve a favorable end result quickly and effectively. 


Thought is the frontier on which we are currently fighting 
the anomalous, and if thought is not regulated, scripted, 
and carefully supervised in this era, we will not have 
necessary leverage against the anomalous forces 
attempting to disrupt it. It is our position collectively — 
and your position directly — to protect humanity from the 
influence of the anomalous. | am confident that this 
motion, as questionable as it may seem, is in the best 
interests of both humanity and the Foundation. 


This is a mandatory operations assignment. Please call 
me or come to my office with questions. 


Respectfully, 


Eric Radford 
Director of Site-42 


| close the email window and copy compliance_v3_civilian.edk from 
inside a folder on my desktop to one of the USB drives. | remove it 
from the computer and pack up the mnestic device, feeling sweat 
bead on my forehead as | open my front door. 


The date is June 19th, 2030. 


| start my car and pull onto the empty streets, a dark gray storm 
brewing over the river. 


Where the Garden Began 


It woke up in a field as dawn broke and looked around it. It wasn't 
impressed by what it saw. The field was... just a field. Not even just 
a field. It was a monotony of ugly, yellow-gray grass, snarling and 
tangling around itself. There was no value here, nothing but- 


But there was something, right there at its feet. In the weak gray 
light, there was a flower. Quite an interesting little thing too, and 
unusually colored. A smooth dark chocolate shot through with 
streaks of deep crimson. It would be a rare bloom, if there were 
actually any other blooms around. As it stood, the little thing was 
unique. 


Did the flower just move a bit? Just then? No? Yes. Probably 
following the sun that was already beginning its slow climb. 


Then there was another flower, it saw. Just a little ways away. It 
pushed through the ground and bloomed into something just as 
unique as the first one. It looked up more and saw petals unfurling 
everywhere in the field! They were growing straight and proud, 
above the old gray grass that clung to the stems. The sun was just 
far enough up to lend some warmth to the field, but it wasn't just a 
field anymore. In the new light, wild flowers dotting the plain, it was a 
garden. 


It was a garden. Yes, it was a garden, and with the garden came 
gardeners. There weren't many at first, but they hacked away the 
grass with speed, coaxing new flowers out into this little world. It 
wandered among them, they who had their backs bent, working as 
feverishly with their flowers as any bee did. More gardeners came. 
Of course they came. It was quite a big field. In the cool lemon light 
of the morning, the gardeners came and they created. 


This was the time for wild growth, it remembered later. It looked 
around at the flowers the gardeners made. They were enormous, 
beautiful, extravagant. The world burst open with unrestrained color. 


All of the gardeners ran around, letting the blooms grow together, 
creating more and more. There were no set plots, no boundaries. 
They all competed to grow the biggest, the most exotic, all twining in 
and out and around each other. There wasn't much pruning, it 
noticed. They all just added their own absurd gaudy flowers to the 
mix and left them for the next. 


But flowers wilt, oh yes they do. The sun got higher, and the light 
became harsher. That muted shine that softened edges got brighter, 
and made the beautiful colors clash. The heat rose. Those glossy 
petals lost their vibrance, and the stems sagged, weakened, as 
everything that supported them leeched away. It saw the gardeners 
realize what had happened, and it watched them scramble. For a 
short time they tried to keep things as they were. There were things 
that could be done with wilted flowers. But there were just too many, 
and they started pulling each other down, all those that they were 
entwined with. The first gardeners and the best gardeners, they tried 
to prune as they went, but there were so many others now, making 
more and more pastel blooms that withered when they left. Finally, 
those first gardeners and best gardeners gave up being subtle. It 
watched as everyone else was pushed away for awhile, and the 
endless trimming began. 


Those gardeners cut away the dead, the gaudy, the parasites. The 
primal jungle of color was tamed, and so much was taken away. It 
was Sad at this. The garden looked more like a field again. Only the 
most unique, or the ones that they worked so hard to preserve, were 
allowed to continue. The gardeners returned to something very 
different than what they had left. What was there in a garden, that 
wasn't a flower? What would they do now? 


That was when they got interested in the thorns, and the vines, and 
the leaves. These new gardeners in this new world worked in new 
ways. They still coaxed a flower out, but it was just a spark of color 
in the real attraction. They wove the stalks in and out and around, 
moved leaves with painstaking care. They created strange and 
wonderful sculptures that lived around their blooms. They met its 
approval. This wasn't the world of beautiful chaos that it had seen 
before. There was pruning, always. There were plots where every 
plant was shaped. Only the very best were allowed to twine and 


create something even more beautiful than anything on its own. 
Gardeners of the morning school were gently or forcibly nudged 
away. Flowers weren't enough anymore. 


That's not to say that there were no flowers. A few extravagant 
blooms survived from the morning, but they were beginning to wilt 
away. 


Because flowers wilt, the gardeners knew that very well. That's why 
they dealt in thorns now. 


It walked around this new garden, as the sun began to reach its 
zenith. It was unheeded by the busy gardeners working in the heat. 
It marveled at the complex world that had come out of the old field, 
until it stopped at a flower. This flower was untouched. Some things 
grew around it, but it was never touched. 


The gardeners had saved it, or forgotten about it. It had no idea 
which. Of course, when it looked around at the complex plants that 
now grew here, the little thing looked like nothing special. Of course 
it was where all of this had begun, but it was just a little brown and 
red flower now. Wasn't it? 


Brown and red. Red and brown. Blood and shit. In the bright light of 
the sun. 


It looked around. Nobody ever paid attention to it, it would probably 
be totally fine if it just reached down and 


Pluck. 


Where They All Go 


Author Note: / find it's even better if you listen to this whilst 
reading. -Sal 


Background: A large mass approximately 3 kilometers in diameter, 
located 436,200 kilometers away from the earth's surface, was 
discovered by Foundation astronomers. It orbits the Earth directly 
behind the moon, causing it to be obscured from view through 
terrestrial telescopes. 


Observation of the mass is difficult, however researchers have 
determined it to be made up of several million constituent parts that 
move independently. Due to the freedom with which these parts 
move, it appears that the mass was not gravitationally formed. 


Foundation Space Telescope 23 Alpha was launched in order to 
further observe the mass. Dr. has written the following report 
on the telescope's observations: 


Space Telescope 23 Alpha was launched at 9:15:31. It 
reached its destination at 22:23:04, wherein it began 
orbiting the moon. It completed orbit to the opposite side 
of the moon in 23 minutes, after which it focused on the 
speck. What we saw through it was astonishing. 


Balloons. Thousands, no, millions of them. Most of them 
were the typical oval shape, but there was the occasional 
novelty Disneyland one with mickey mouse ears, or 
those ones you can buy at Pharmacies that are shaped 
like words. They all floated there, moving rhythmically. 
Dancing. 


We watched them for a while. It was soothing. The way 
they coalesced. Their movements seemed joyful, happy. 
They danced around one another, their strings 
sometimes touching as if they were holding hands. It was 


beautiful. 


One of my researchers suddenly jumped up 
approximately 24 minutes in, and pointed to a certain 
balloon that came into view. It was a green, oblong 
balloon with a custom print on it. It said "Happy Birthday, 
." That was the name of my researcher. He told 
me that on his 8th birthday his mom had ordered 100 
custom-print green balloons that said exactly that. 


After watching the balloons dance for another 30 
minutes, | came to the conclusion that these balloons did 
not simply appear behind the moon. | remember when | 
was little, and | myself let go of a colourful pink balloon 
that slipped off my wrist. | watched it drift off into the 
atmosphere, and stared, wondering where it would go. | 
think we have just found out. 


Where They Kept Their Copies