Though controlling shares sufficient to affect policy at these 
corporations, Mycroft appears to display little interest in affecting 
their operations or management. Mycroft also is known to 
generously support a variety of charities, including the International 
Red Cross, Global Clinic Charity, Engineers Without Borders, and 
the Make-A-Wish Foundation. 


Known Associates: Mycroft is well-connected socially and 
politically, and has been confirmed to have dealings with the 
following individuals: 


¢ [NAME REDACTED], 05-5: Roommates during university. 
(Deceased, 21 December 1988) 

¢ [NAME REDACTED], O5-7: Met during university. 

¢ Johann Schneider, Deputy Director of the Global Occult 


Coalition European Division: Childhood friend. 

¢ Randolph Carter Ill, Partner, Marshall, Carter, & Dark: Mentor. 
[*Person-of-interest to the Foundation] 

¢ Sir John Major, British Chief Secretary to the Treasury: Chess 
partner. 

* Sir Christopher Keith Curwen, British Chief of the Secret 
Intelligence Service: Personal friend. 


Known Related SCP Objects: 


* SCP-033 - Written classified treatise dissenting the 
documented existence and effects (disseminated to GOC and 
Foundation). 

* SCP-1050 - Provided mathematical analysis to Foundation. 


"Ladies and gentlemen, this is the captain speaking," dinged the 
intercom. "We are currently beginning our descent into Heathrow. 
We should be landing in about thirty minutes. I'll be switching off the 
smoking sign and switching on the seat-belt sign shortly. It is 
currently clear in London and a brisk four degrees centigrade." 
Harper extinguished his cigarette, finished his scotch, and tucked 
the file on Sir James back into his attache case. 


Interlude 


Harper is on his way to London now. The meeting will likely take 
place tomorrow morning. 


Does he know anything damaging? 


No. The Foundation's files have been sterilized. Have the 
Coalition's? 


Yes. The Coalition's investigation is almost as far behind as that of 
the Scottish police. 


And Harper's conversation with Sir James will suit our purposes? 


approximately 1m. There was a noticeable increase in both alpha 
and beta particles noted as the tool moved within 500mm. 
Evacuation of non-essential personnel was undertaken before 
proceeding with the test. After the go-ahead was received, 
monitoring devices began to cease operation, beginning with the 
most sensitive. People up to thirty (80) miles away noted unease, 
likely because of [REDACTED] particles. No more data were 
received after the item came within 100mm of the tool. On later 
investigation of the site, all organic material was [DATA 
EXPUNGED)], along with other large molecules such as diamonds. It 
is theorised that the superdense SCP- - broke down in a chain 
reaction at the subatomic level. Attempts are ongoing to recover 
data from sources not as close to the blast point. 


Addendum 608-2: On - -20 , aninterference spectrometer was 
used to attempt to determine its composition. The test results 
indicate the presence of silver, platinum, and polymers containing 
superheavy elements. As yet, no mechanism whereby these 
substances could be compressed to the width observed in the item 
has been proposed, although research is ongoing. One suggestion 
is that only the main body consists of these substances, and the 
microfibers are another substance entirely. 


« SCP-607 | SCP-608 | SCP-609 » 


Of course. 


Petersfield, Cambridge, UK 
Saturday, 24 December 1988, 0900 hours local time 


The residence of Professor Sir James Mycroft turned out to be an 
elegant townhouse in one of Cambridge's upscale residential 
districts. Harper walked up the front steps and rapped the ornate 
door knocker three times. The door opened, revealing a short, portly 
British butler. "Yes, sir?" 


"I'm Timothy Harper," the American introduced himself. "Is Sir 
James in?" 


"He has been expecting you," the butler said. Harper blinked in 
surprise - he hadn't made an appointment. Then again, Sir James 
was an information broker. "If you will follow me, sir." The butler 
ushered Harper inside, leading him through an ornate front hall and 
into a library. 


Sir James' library was lined floor to ceiling with leather-bound tomes 
covering every subject known to man (and, for that matter, probably 
a number of subjects not known to man). Dark oak paneling was 
visible in the few sections of wall not concealed by bookcases. The 
center of the room was occupied by an ancient oak desk decorated 
with carvings of griffins. Three small statues of grotesques sat on 
one side of the blotter; a small silver hand bell sat atop a stack of 
graded blue book exams. To one side of the room stood a free- 
standing chalk board covered in mathematical gobbledegook Harper 
couldn't begin to understand. A towering fireplace crackled happily 
in the corner, with a painting of a waterfall hung above the mantle. 
The painting was oddly familiar, though Harper knew he had not 
seen it before. In a tall-backed chair next to the fireplace, a tall man 
with wild silver hair and a thick beard sat reading from a small green 
book. Harper and the man were roughly the same age, according to 
the file, but the bearded man seemed at once ancient and youthful 
in a strange, timeless fashion. Sir James looked up, first at the 
butler, then at Harper. The professor's harsh steel-blue eyes 
seemed to cut right through him; this was clearly a man who was not 
to be trifled with. In an instant, the harsh flash of Sir James’ eyes 


was replaced by a friendly twinkle - if he had been wearing a red suit 
instead of a tweed jacket, Harper might have mistaken him for Saint 
Nicholas. "Welcome, welcome!" exclaimed Sir James, tucking the 
green book into an interior pocket of his jacket. He gestured to 
another chair by the fire, separated from his own by a coffee table 
with a marble chess set. "Come, sit. May | offer you a cup of tea or 
coffee?" 


"Coffee, black, thank you," stated Harper, taking the offered chair. 


Sir James looked pointedly at the butler, "Make that two, Deeds. A 
dash of peppermint in mine, if you would be so kind." 


"Yes, sir," the butler replied, disappearing from the room. 


Sir James directed his attention to Harper, "My dear fellow, what 
brings you to my humble residence on this fine Christmas Eve 
morning?" 


Harper began, "Professor Mycroft, | am Mr. Timothy—" 


"Timothy Harper, counterintelligence officer for the Foundation, 
recently promoted to Level 5 for the duration of your current 
investigation,” the Englishman interrupted. "Do you prefer 'Mr. 
Harper,’ 'Timothy,' or 'Tim?"™ 


"Tim is fine," Harper began. 


"Very well, Tim," continued the Englishman, smiling politely. "| 
myself prefer either simply 'Professor,' though you are not one of my 
pupils, or 'Sir James.’ | never could get used to being called 
‘Professor Mycroft' - in my mind that was always my father." 


"My apologies, Sir James," Harper said. "| am investigating the Pan 
Am Flight 103 bombing. Several Foundation personnel were killed in 
the explosion, and we have reason to believe a paranormal artifact 
was used in the explosion specifically to kill them and destroy the 
documents in their possession." 


"A terrible tragedy," Sir James agreed. "Alan Hamilton - you knew 
him as O5-5 - was among the dead. He was a good friend. How can 
| be of assistance to the Foundation?" 


Harper explained what he knew so far, pausing only when the butler 
returned with their coffee. 


"And so Cornelia believed | might be able to lead you to C," Sir 
James said thoughtfully, sipping his coffee. 


Harper frowned, "I'm sorry, Cornelia?" 


Sir James blinked, and smiled, "Right, | forgot for a moment you 
didn't know her real name. Overseer Seven. Another old friend of 
mine - we met in university, one giving a lecture the other attended." 
Harper nodded, and the Englishman continued, "Anyway, | do not 
know the precise location of the chest of explosive coins or its 
associated atlas. | must say, however, it seems a clever means to 
accomplish the destruction of an aircraft. After all, no airport security 
officer in the world will look twice at someone having a coin in either 
their luggage or on their person. Regardless, | will attempt to 
determine its whereabouts." 


"Thank you," Harper said. He waited, sensing Sir James had more 
to say. 


"You're wondering what else | know," the mischievous professor 
observed, "because you suspect there is more to this than just the 
bombing. A reasonable belief, given the recent raid the Foundation 
did on a warehouse not too far from here, and a belief which | share. 
My sources suggest that this C person has been poking around into 
a number of very dangerous paranormal objects." 


"Most paranormal objects are dangerous," Harper observed. 


Sir James nodded, "That is true, but these particular objects are 
ones with the capacity to do relatively targeted damage. In short, the 
sort of object or entity which could be used as a weapon against 
one's enemies. | assume you're familiar with your Foundation's 
Omega Seven fiasco?" 


Harper nodded, "Vaguely. Not my department, but something about 
attempting to put an immortal humanoid SCP with impressive 
fighting skills on a Mobile Task Force. It ended badly." 


"To state that the fiasco ended badly would be similar to calling one 
of the world wars a ‘petty dispute," Sir James said dryly. "Near total 
casualties among the involved personnel. The detonation of an 

onsite nuclear failsafe. The end of the careers of General Bowe and 


several Foundation Overseers." 
"So you're saying C wants to weaponize SCPs?" Harper asked. 


"If C is who | think C is, that is doubtful," replied the professor. "It is 
my suspicion that C is merely one of a number of conspirators - 
possibly simply a pawn in the eyes of the other conspirators. That 
said, this conspiracy has demonstrated the willingness to use 
dangerous SCPs against others, as demonstrated by the Pan Am 
bombing, and is not adverse to casualties. Such a mindset is, simply 
put, dangerous." 


Harper agreed, "Definitely. Do you think the conspirators are likely to 
try and use Able?" 


"| doubt it," Sir James said. "He's too mentally unstable to be 
controlled, as Bowe found out to his detriment. | would recommend 
you take a look at SCP-557-1 and SCP-1440. My contacts suggest 
C sought out information about them recently.” 


“Thank you," Harper said, making a note. "May | ask a few 
questions, Sir James?" 


"You may ask, but | do not promise to answer them all," the 
professor replied. "After all, knowledge is power and information is 
currency. | do promise that everything | tell you will be true." 


Harper nodded, "Alright, that seems reasonable. Do you know C?" 


"| do, but | shall not reveal C's identity," Sir James replied. "To do so 
would be to betray a trust." 


The response was annoying, but understandable. "Fair enough. Are 
there any immediate threats | should know about?" asked Harper. 


Sir James stated, "| cannot say for certain, but based on what you've 
told me, | would recommend increasing the security details for the 
O5 Council. Especially since Alan was killed - a decapitation strike 


cannot be ruled out." 


Harper made a note. "Do you know more about this conspiracy?" 
asked the Foundation investigator. 


"Yes," said Sir James. 
Harper did a double take. "Will you tell me?" 


"Well, do not misunderstand me, there is a limit to my knowledge. | 
do not know everything about it, and | am sure there are measures 
in place of which | am unaware," the professor said. "Even if | told 
you everything | know, it is conceivable it would be insufficient to 
prevent the conspirators from succeeding. Given the response the 
conspirators had to their warehouse's being raided, my telling you 
could forfeit both our lives." 


"You didn't answer my question,” the American observed. 


"Very astute," replied his host. "| am willing to tell you more on one 
condition, and | am sure it is one you will need to run past Cornelia. | 
require seventy-five liters of liquid from SCP-006 for my research. 
While | could obtain it through other channels, having it supplied 
directly by the Foundation would simplify matters considerably." 


"I'm not familiar with double-oh-six," Harper said, frowning. 


"Ask Cornelia; the file is classified for Overseers only," stated Sir 
James. "If you want the information, get me the liquid. That is my 
price." 


"I'll pass that along," Harper said, wondering what exactly the 
professor wanted that he himself couldn't know about. "One last 
question, which has little bearing on this investigation beyond my 
own curiosity." 


"Ask away." 


"The painting over your mantle," began Harper, "has been bothering 
me since | came in. | recognize the waterfall, but | can't place it.” 


Sir James smiled. "That's Reichenbach Falls in Switzerland, made 


famous by the stories of Sherlock Holmes. | was born not far from 
there, as a matter of fact, which is why | have dual citizenship. My 
maternal grandfather, also a mathematician | might add, actually 
met the good doctor when he visited Reichenbach prior to writing 
The Final Problem. | have an autographed first edition of that book 
upstairs." 


"Thank you for satisfying my curiosity, Sir James," Harper said, 
shaking hands with Sir James. The professor's grip was strong and 
firm, clearly a relic of his days as a boxer. 


"Not at all, my dear Tim," Sir James said. He picked up the hand bell 
from the desk and shook it deftly. There was a peculiar ring, not 
seeming to come from the bell itself, but before Harper could reflect 
on this, the door opened. "Deeds, please see Mr. Harper out." 


"Yes, sir." As the butler led Harper out, he was already thinking 
through his phone call to Seven. 


« Part Ill | HUB | Part V » 


Conspiracy, Part V 


Demands 


Foundation Commanda-03, Whitehall, UK 
Saturday, 24 December 1988, 1300 hours local time 


The explosion was predictable. "He wants what?!" demanded Seven 
over the secure telephone line. 


Harper took a calming puff on his cigarette and said, "| believe his 
exact words were ‘I require seventy-five liters of liquid from SCP-006 
for my research.” 


"Absolutely out of the question," Seven shot back. "Sir James has 
lost his marbles this time. Did the file on him include details on his 
failed recruitment?" 


"Only that recruitment was attempted and failed back in seventy- 
one," Harper recalled. 


"Sir James’ doctoral thesis in mathematics had to do with the 
binomial theorem, specifically an aspect that was of interest to the 
Foundation,” Seven explained. "We knew he was valuable talent, 
and we wanted to beat the other groups-of-interest to him. So, a 
couple of agents were sent to do the usual meet-and-greet. Pretend 
to be part of the local government's intelligence service, give the 
pitch, point out that not working with us might be a bad idea..." In 
other words, Harper knew, extort the prospective employee into 
working for the Foundation. Not one of the organization's finer 
policies, but at least the Foundation tried to handle it with a velvet 
glove, unlike many of its rival organizations. 


"So what happened?" Harper inquired. 


Seven scoffed, "He laughed in the agents' faces. He told them he 


knew they worked for the Foundation, and that he wasn't interested 
in being one of our ‘lab coat wearing canon fodder’ before having his 
butler forcibly remove them from the premises. Apparently, he 
thought working for us would be 'boring,' but he offered to ‘consult 
from time to time’ if we had ‘some interesting challenge’ our 
researchers couldn't figure out." 


Harper was flabbergasted. "| bet that went over well."