Agent Moon and half a dozen blue-hats were present, too—the first 
time he had seen a heavy guard presence during an experiment; 
whether for him or for what might be about to happen he could not 
know. 


"Okay, people," Dr Skinner announced, quietening the discussions 
of the junior white-coats. "| know this experiment is particularly 
complex, so | shan't get in your way more than | have to. I'm just 
here to observe in my capacity as D-Class personnel supervisor, to 
make sure sector assets are being expended properly." 


Expended. Keagan thought. He would have said 'used' if he 
expected all of us to walk away. He wondered how Ronny felt, so 
close to the heart of a real conspiracy that considered men's lives 
resources to be burned through—but so far from the theories he had 
cherished. 


The Professor nodded at Dr Barker, who stepped forward, tapping 
on his lapel mic. "Is this thing on?" The last syllable suddenly 
boomed throughout the laboratory and one of the junior technicians 
turned to give him the thumbs up. "Good. For the record, today we'll 
be testing boundary conditions for 554-Boojum. The object itself is 
now on high surveillance—” he pointed to one of the screens, which 
showed a great rusting device, oxidised iron over weather-streaked 
concrete, resting on what appeared to be a rural hillside "—and we 
are streaming records live from a backup server at Site-60 to 
compare the secondary effects of 554-Boojum in real-time. Dr 
Rolfus is on hand at Site-60 to handle data uploads." 


A disgruntled-sounding voice boomed out of the speakers, almost 
entirely incomprehensible though Keagan thought he caught the 
word 'ingrates'. One of the technicians winced and removed his 
headphones. 


Dr Skinner cut in smoothly. "Thank you for your forebearance, Dr 
Rolfus. We've had to move the experiment forward for security 
reasons. I'll also thank you to keep focused on your current task 


rather than going back over the unfortunate circumstances that led 
to your reassignment up north, hmm?" 


The voice made a further uncomplimentary-sounding interjection, 
but it was muted. 


"Very well," Dr Barker continued, "The subject currently designated 
554-2 was euthanised today at 0400 hours; we will effectively be 
starting with a clean slate. Subject D-8671 will be exposed to the 
554 effect and thus redesignated 554-2. In the course of this 
experiment we will be triggering a 554-Boojum event, which 
necessarily involves the creation of another 554-2 subject. The most 
suitable subject for this purpose has been selected as D-7761,"— 
that was Cancer—"whose limited lifespan due to a medical condition 
offers possibilities for the future study of 554-Boojum in cases of 
natural death." 


Keagan looked over at the other two inmates. Cancer's expression 
was neutral. He would survive Shift B, then; but would spend what 
little life he had left locked away, integrated into Special 
Containment Procedures 554. 


Dr Barker was still talking, and Keagan forced himself to pay 
attention: "...will determine the exact threshold 554 considers 
‘observation’, as well as whether an instance of 554-2 is able to 
prevent a former 554-2 subject from undergoing 554-Boojum. 
D-8671 will be converted into 554-2, then D-7761 exposed. D-8671, 
as the former 554-2 subject, will thus be subject to 554-Boojum. 
Observation of the subject will be gradually diminished through a 
number of means including reducing ambient light in order to 
determine the key threshold for observation." He looked over 
towards the door. "Ah. Thank you, Agent Piper. Please bring in the 
viewing apparatus.” A black box on wheels, the size of a room 
service trolley, was wheeled into the room and positioned near the 
central dais. "In order to minimise exposure of other personnel, the 
two D-Class subjects will be briefly shown an electronic image of 
554-1 that has been determined to transmit the effect.” 


He turned, and began addressing Keagan. "D-8671— is that him? | 
can't read his designation label from here." A guard briefly confirmed 
that Keagan was, indeed, D-8671. "Good. D-8671, approach the 


viewing apparatus and place your head in the viewing chamber, 
located on the near side of the apparatus." 


Keagan had never understood why, in films, people willingly co- 
operated with those they suspected were about to kill the m—why 
they dug their own graves, literally, or figuratively by divulging the 
information keeping them alive. Now he understood—it was based 
on a truth. You did what you were told to survive a few more 
minutes, even if you knew it made your death all the more certain. 
You killed two men to avoid paying them off, the little voice retorted, 
but you won't fight for your own life. Pathetic. But there was nothing 
Keagan could do. He was a car with a dead engine, being pushed 
up a hill an inch at a time. He walked over to the dark box and took 
up what he presumed to be the correct position, head lowered into 
the square notch cut out of the side of the trolley, forehead resting 
on acurved stand apparently provided for that purpose. 


"In a few seconds you will see an image on the monitor below you. 
Please tell us what you see." 


Keagan waited—the space below him remained black, and some 
activity around him led him to believe the apparatus wasn't quite 
ready. 


“Technician Grant, the question is not whether it's working or not. | 
can see it's not working. The question is why. Please find that out, 
and rectify it," Dr Barker snapped from somewhere behind him. 


"You want me to take a look?" Keagan said, sarcastically. 
"Electronics aren't my forte, but I'm sure | could get it going, if it's 
just a monitor. | can give you a fair quote, and | take cash..." 


"That won't be necessary, D-8671. Please remain quiet unless 
instructed to speak." 


But someone wasn't keeping quiet. Someone was shouting 
something loudly, a long way away, and getting closer. Soon it was 
possible to make out that what was being shouted was along the 
lines of ‘Stop the experiment! Stop it now!". 


Dr Barker sighed, the sound distorting into a deep crackle as it fed 


Termination Test Record: 

SCP-682 was released in the abandoned village of , Russia 
via airlift, and proceeded to attack the village. Coordinates were set 
to correspond with SCP-682's position, thus generating up to , 
SCP-2617-A instances holding unique variants of SCP-2617-B. 
SCP-2617-A instances attack SCP-682, destroying up to 45% of its 
body mass. 


Five hours after the beginning of termination test, SCP-682 released 
a series of radio waves. SCP-2617-C dissipated, and all SCP-2617- 
A and SCP-2617-B instances underwent spontaneous sublimation. 
Personnel supervising the termination test were also exposed to the 
radio waves. Interviews with these personnel suggest that they are 
unable to recognise the concept of Russia. 


Item: SCP-169 


Tissue Test Record: 
Denied by O5- 


Termination Test Record: 
Denied by O5- 


Notes: 

No can do. | can understand how you might think that tracking down 
169, then making it consume 682 would work, but it's survived and 
adapted to everything else we've tried. If it survives being eaten by 
169, and, God forbid, grows as big as it, humanity would be screwed 
beyond belief. Denied. 


Item: SCP-—2722 


Tissue Test Record: 
N/A 


Termination Test Record: 

SCP-682 exposed to SCP-2722. The wielders of the ship were 
quickly secured by the use of the ship's lockdown measure, and are 
ordered to try and use any of the methods available to them in an 


through his label mike. "Agent Moon, please see what's going on 
outside. 


Keagan heard the familiar swipe-ratchet of a keycard-operated door, 
and the voice suddenly came into focus. "Let me in! Let me—oh." 


"Researcher Gradley." Moon's voice, more than a note of 
exasperation in it. "This is a restricted experiment and you aren't 
permitted to be here, let alone disrupting the procedure by yelling 
outside." 


"It's okay," Keagan interjected, still kneeling with his head in the 
trolley, "They can't get it working anyway. | offered to fix it for them." 


Edward butted in: "| have compelling reason to believe this 
experiment is at risk of causing cross-contamination between two 
different Special Containment Procedures. D-8671 told me just a 
few hours ago that he's been having unusual dreams. He described 
them to me. I've been in contact with Site-60, and they've confirmed 
all the details. It's 1447." 


"And that is?" asked Moon. "You'll have to excuse me, | don't 
actually carry around the entire SCP object database in my head." 


"The tulpa," pressed Edward. "A self-sustaining manifest thought- 
form, in containment at Site-60. He described its appearance, its 
containment unit, the surrounding facility—everything. Oh, for the 
love of Christ, is that Dr Rolfus on the monitor over there? Site-60 is 
part of this experiment?" 


"Only to compare personnel records. 554's secondary effects 
including altering local written and electronic data." 


Well, that explained the walls, at least. 


"Look, you have to shut this down, or at least choose another 
subject. 1447 tried to breach containment a week ago—” 


"Nothing new there, as | recall." Dr Skinner's voice. 


"and exhibited highly unusual behaviour while doing so. The Director 
won't tolerate—” 


"Look, Edward," Agent Moon interrupted. "The experiment's already 
in progress. The subjects have already been chosen based on clear 
criteria of suitability—” 


"Because D-8671 tried to escape, you mean," Edward challenged. 


"ves. That's valid criteria. But also because he had an ongoing 
case moving through the courts and it saves us quite a bit of bother 
if all that goes away without us having to do mop-up." The Judge, 
Keagan thought. So, no-one, not even a plausible suspect, would 
stand trial for the murder of Wesley Kellogg. What a surprise. 


"Look, it may come as a shock to you,” Agent Moon continued, "but 
this isn't the US, we don't have the same resources available to us, 
and we can't afford the same degree of separation between different 
projects. Every D-Class here, including D-8671, has been involved 
with multiple skips since they arrived. You want to scrap a highly 
valuable experiment because one scumbag's been having dreams 
that happen to sound like another skip out of thousands somewhere 
else in the world? I'm guessing if the Director felt as strongly as you 
we wouldn't be hearing this from one junior researcher yelling in the 
corridor." 


"| wasn't able to raise him," Edward said. "Professor Gelding said..." 


"Frankly," Dr Skinner said, "I don't give a damn what Professor 
Gelding says or thinks. / authorised this experiment, not him, and it 
will proceed on my say-so. Technician Grant, what the hell is the 
holdup?" 


"Sorry sir, should be working now." 


"Agent Moon, get Gradley out of my—I mean, Dr Barker's— 
laboratory. And tell him he's lucky | don't initiate disciplinary 
procedures against him for trying to usurp the chain of command. Dr 
Barker, please continue." 


"Thank you, Dr Skinner. Grant, show D-8671 the image." 


Sudden light, painful after the darkness of the box. A corridor—no, a 
crawlspace, dirt on the ground. Something inside, a black plastic 


bag, sealed shut with strips of duct tape. Human-sized. Light shining 
through at the far end. 


"What do you see, D-8671? Describe the image?" 


"It's somewhere dark. Looks like the space underneath something 
big. There's what looks like a body in a black plastic bin liner 
underneath it." 


"Describe the body, D-8671." 
"| can't. | just told you, it's wrapped in a bin liner." 


"Does it fill the whole space? Is it large, or small? Does it cover the 
stains at the centre of the space?" 


"It looks like it's curled up, but it's pretty big. | don't see any stains." 


"Good. For the record 554-1 in static images remains unchanged 
since the last experiment. Technician Grant, please secure the 
viewing apparatus.” 


The image disappeared again, engulfed by blackness. 


"D-8671, you are now redesignated 554-2. Please take your head 
out of the viewing chamber and move over to the testing platform." 


A blue-hat pulled on Keagan's cuffs and he hit his head on the rim of 
the trolley, just below the crown of his head at the back. "Shit," he 
said, unable to rub the area due to his restraints but feeling 
something trickle down through the short coarse hair. 


"Agent Matthews, try to avoid undue damage to the subject. Please 
help him into place on the testing platform." 


Keagan was led over and through gestures told to escalate the 
steps up to the central dais. 


"Technician Grant, please can we test the lighting?" 


The lights around the dais dimmed, the screens on the walls winking 
out. Keagan was left illuminated at the centre of the space, bright 


white lighting beating down on his face and shoulders. Keagan could 
make out the shine of Dr Barker's spectacles in the darkness, 
watching him. 


"Thank you. Please restore regular lighting conditions. Agent Moon, 
please escort D-7780 to the observation deck around the testing 
platform." 


Ronny was led to the central dais, and ushered up to a second, 
slightly lower ring, separated from the higher platform by a low 
railing. 


"D-7780, please keep 554-2 under close observation at all times 
unless otherwise instructed." 


Ronny's eyes were quivering, betrayed, flashes of the whites 
showing. Keagan thought he seemed on the verge of breaking down 
completely. 


"D-7761, please position yourself at the viewing apparatus." 


Keagan watched as Cancer walked over and kneeled by the trolley. 
He saw the older man flinch as his face was lit up from below by the 
screen. Keagan felt something—barely perceptible; a slight buzzing- 
tugging-tingling as though something were softly taking hold of him 
by his collar and trying to pull him away. 


"D-7761. What do you see?" 
"A—KOKK—crawlspace." 


"Describe the body. Is it large or small? Does it have the legs tucked 
up under it.” 


"What fucking—KAAK—body? You've shown me an empty 
crawlspace." 


"There's a plastic bin liner in the crawlspace. It contains a body. 
Describe it to me or you will face immediate correctional action." 


Agent Moon put his hand on his gun. 


Cancer began chuckling, interspersed with -sucking, wet coughs, as 
though something inside him was tearing loose. "You mean you'll 
shoot me, like you're gonna—HAKH—shoot everyone else, right? 
Doesn't matter. There's no—KKUK—body in the picture. Come and 
have a look yourself if you got a problem with it." 


Obviously this wasn't the response the white-coats had been 
expecting. Dr Barker switched off his lapel mic and went into 
conference with Dr Skinner for several minutes before turning his 
mic back on. 


"Thank you, D-7761. You are now designated 554-2. Please 
proceed to the observation deck." 


"So who am | now?" Keagan asked. "If I'm not 554-2 anymore?" 


Barker seemed momentarily nonplussed by the question. Then: 
"The subject on the testing platform is once again designated 
D-9671." 


"D-8671," Keagan suggested, but the error went uncorrected. 
"Technician Grant, please dim the facility lighting.” 


Once again the lights around the dais went out. Other than the 
distant gleam of the Doctor's glasses, all Keagan could see were 
Cancer and Ronny Feldspar at the edge of the spotlight. 


"554-2, D-7780, please maintain unbroken observation of D-9671 
unless otherwise instructed." 


Cancer's eyes seemed emptied of everything. 
"I'm sorry," Keagan said to both of them. "I really am." 


"Yes, yes," Dr Barker said wearily. "Let's not have any histrionics. 
Technician Grant, please reduce ambient lighting by 50%. Just as a 
reminder to researchers and technicians—as well as to our 
honoured guest Dr Skinner—please view the subject only via the 
monitors to avoid observer interference."