"You are not in a position to mock someone for their mental 
instabilities, Alex. Mister MacIntyre, my apologies. | thought it would 
be prudent for you to meet both of us, as we represent Foundation 
interaction with transhumans — both from within the Foundation, 
and from the outside. Unfortunately | cannot imagine her actions 
have been particularly encouraging." 


"So why me? It seems like a lot of effort to just... ‘save’ someone." 


Langley nodded. "You have been acquired by the Insurgency for a 
very specific task only you can accomplish. You-" 


"We need you to talk to a giant cactus monster!" Radcliffe 
interjected. She appeared to be vibrating with excitement. 
Cactusman could feel the corner of his mouth tugging upward. 


Langley slowly turned his head to look at her and she flinched. He 
blinked and looked back to Cactusman. "...Yes. We-" 


Radcliffe clasped her hands together and Cactusman could feel his 
heart rise into his throat when she cried, "We need your help, 
Cactusman! Save us, oh-" 


cables. 


Analysis: 

Thermal imaging shows the temperature of the 
apartment dropping by between 7 and 15°C moments 
before the cameras are flattened by pillars of intense 
cold that briefly manifest above each camera. The two 
cameras were crushed within one-twentieth of a second 
of each other. 


Show Third Exploration Attempt 
Exploration Log 3, / /198 
Materials: 


¢ Subject D-602-02, equipped with a TV camera and 
two-way radio. 

¢ Four remote-control motorized bases mounted 
with cameras and microphones, made from 
military-grade reinforced steel. 

* One camera array facing in through the open front 
door. 

* Two thermal imaging arrays facing in through the 

windows. 

A variety of sensors, including microphones, 

seismographs, Geiger counters, [DATA 

EXPUNGED], set up on surfaces adjacent to Apt. 
(i.e. the walls of adjacent apartments, the floor 

of the apartment above, and the ceiling of the 

apartment below). 


Procedure: 

The subject is instructed to record footage of the second 
room from the entry room by zooming in as much as 
possible, while the motorized cameras observe the rest 
of the room. After sixteen minutes, the subject is 
instructed to try the left-hand door. The subject claims 
the door is jammed and cannot be opened. 


"Alex." 

"What? I'm just having some fun." 

"Please don't interrupt. It's rude." 

"Well, sorry." 

"Quite alright." 

"Wait a minute, you just interrupted me to-" 
"As | was saying," Langley said calmly. 


Cactusman couldn't help but chuckle, even if he wasn't sure the man 
was being intentionally comedic. While being probably drugged and 
being more kidnapped than rescued was not exactly the best way to 
be introduced to this organization, he felt these two were nice 
enough people. And being out of his cell was certainly a plus. 


"We need you to speak with a... giant cactus monster. There is no 
way to subdue it physically without permanently damaging It, so we 
need a lighter touch. Only you can help us, Mister MacIntyre. We 
need help. We need... the Spiked Menace." 


“Ffffffuck yeah!" Radcliffe sprang all the way out of her chair this 
time. "That was cool! Well delivered, Zach." 


Langley didn't so much smile as he did show her his teeth. It 
seemed to actively hurt him to do so, and he dropped the expression 
almost as suddenly as he made it. 


Radcliffe didn't seem to notice, or perhaps just didn't care. "So, 
Danny-boy, watcha say, you in?" 


Cactusman smiled. "I'm in." 


Langley's expression remained stony as ever, and he gave nothing 
more than a short nod. Cactusman tried not to let the man's 
indifference - melancholy? Cactusman wasn't sure - get to him. At 
least Radcliffe seemed happy, she was doing a little jig beside her 
overturned chair. 


"So, what now?" Cactusman asked as he slowly rose from the bed. 
He made several little hops to get the blood flowing to his legs. 


Langley opened his mouth to reply but Radcliffe bounded forward to 
field the question. Langley shrugged, grabbed the two cacti, and 
headed for the door while Radcliffe prattled on. "Well, we've already 
given you a medical evaluation and stuff, so | guess we should just 
take you to our quarters- you're staying with us, | dunno if | 
mentioned that yet. But you can't wander around unless you have 
one of us with you, since you're new and special and stuff." 


"So what do you actually do?" Cactusman asked slid past the glass 
door. Glancing inside the other rooms, Cactusman hurried after 
Radcliffe. The ward was surprisingly empty, save for a nurse or two 
here and there. 


"Oh, we get to do tons of fun stuff! | mean, it also depends on your 
cell. For example, I'm tasked with resource acquisition- like you- in 
various ways. Langley is either with me or off doing... something. | 
dunno, he talks about it and | get bored and zone out. You, however, 
will be stuck on base cuz you're 'vital Beta Class personnel.’ But it's 
gotta be better than jail, yeah?" 


She skipped ahead and shut the door before Cactusman could get a 
look outside. A wicked grin had decided to take host on her face. 
She took a deep breath, threw open the door and dashed out. 
Cactusman poked his head out to see she had jumped up ona 
railing, her entire body arching as she spread her arms out. 


"Welcome!" she yelled, and her voice echoed several times. "To the 
Chaos Insurgency!" 


The catwalk outside his room was several stories up, overlooking a 
sizable room congested with traffic. People in casual wear, lab 
coats, hazmat suits, and military gear mingled together in a sea of 
activity. Drifting amongst them were dollies and carts of various 
materials, captained by impatient personnel. Cactusman spotted 
one cage rocking around as a team pulled it with short ropes, and a 
large creature of some sort pushing it from behind. The resulting 
noise from it all, even thirty feet up, was near deafening. 


They were not as pristine as the Foundation, nor nearly as orderly. 
Which lent credence to their name, Cactusman figured. The building 
and the various objects and tools he could spot had a similar 
aesthetic- not defunct, but clearly well-worn. When he squinted he 
could see the entirety of the floor was scratched and scuffed, the 
entire thing a beaten path. 


Looking left and right, Cactusman spotted more room along the 
catwalk he was on. The catwalk looped around the entire room, and 
had several like it above and below. It all reminded him of a prison, 
the way all sides of the room were covered in ladders, stairs, and 
catwalks leading to the various rooms embedded in the concrete. 


"Cool, eh?" Radcliffe was hanging upside down, her knees locked 
around the railing. Cactusman almost got vertigo just looking at her. 
It didn't help she was idly kicking her feet. 


Cactusman swallowed nervously. "Yeah. It's a bit more... uh. Not 
dirty, but... | mean, no offense, | just-" 


"Ah, don't worry." Radcliffe grasped the railing and pulled herself up. 
"| mean, yeah, it's not super immaculate- that site you were in was 
like spotless, holy shit- but it's got... y'know, character. Flavor. All 
the Foundation facilities I've ever been in are just so... lifeless. 
Bluh." 


"Speaking of which," Cactusman said as they headed for the stairs, 
where Langley was waiting. He bit the inside of his cheek. "Did 
anybody get hurt when you guys... uh, 'rescued' me?" 


"Well." There was a brief pause as she began to descend. "I'm not 
gonna bullshit you, Danny. Yes, people got hurt. People died. | 
dunno how many. | will, however, assure you | ain't got an ounce of 
blood on my hands." 


He had anticipated it, but it still felt like a punch to the gut. He 
squeezed the railing for support and asked with as much force as he 
could, "Why?" 


Radcliffe squirmed, and it actually made Cactusman feel better. 
"That's a difficult question. Like, you have to understand that the 


Insurgency and the Foundation have fundamentally different goals. 
The Foundation squirrels anomalies away, and the Insurgency... the 
Insurgency wants to bring it to the light of day. To make them 
normal. To make us normal, Danny." 


Spines erupted from nearly every inch of skin on Cactusman's body. 
"And that's worth killing people over? That the Foundation should 
just die and let you do what you want?" 


When Radcliffe looked away from him without responding, 
Cactusman reached out to grasp her shoulder without realizing he 
was still covered in spines. Before he could reach, Langley grabbed 
him by the wrist. Blood seeped onto the bandages in two places, but 
still Langley didn't show any reaction. 


"Mister Macintyre, please don't act as if we find this easy. We don't." 
He released Cactusman and removed the spines stuck in his hand, 
then picked up the two cacti he had set down. "I know better than 
most that not everyone in the Foundation is coldhearted. | had good 
friends when | worked there. | do this job not only because | believe 
in the Insurgency's cause, but because | know if | didn't, another 
Insurgent would take my place. And they may not show the same 
mercy as I." 


Cactusman took to chewing on his tongue rather than his cheek. 
Mulling over what he said, it made sense. But it didn't make 
Cactusman any happier. Instead of dwelling on it, Cactusman took 
to removing the spines from himself as they walked. 


He overheard Radcliffe comment on Langley's bleeding, who 
dismissed it with, "Won't have this arm much longer, anyway." 


Yet as odd a comment as that was, Cactusman couldn't ignore the 
thoughts of the Foundation that continued to surface. They made 
him realize he didn't know that much about the Foundation. Who 
was he to cast judgement on those that opposed them? Yet still the 
idea of the Insurgency killing Foundation personnel left him uneasy, 
and unsure of whether he should assist them. 


But, as if on cue from a higher power, some of the payload of a 
nearby rolling pallet trolley dislodged itself and crashed down to the 


ground. Before Langley or Radcliffe could say anything on the 
matter, Cactusman rushed forward to aid his new comrades. He 
hefted up one of the barrels, which had a strip of transparent 
material on it to reveal the red liquid within it. The men with the 
trolley thanked him and together they loaded the three fallen barrels 
back onto the roller. 


"Happy to help," Cactusman assured, short of breath. Having to yell 
over the din certainly didn't make being heard any easier. He 
wiggled his aching fingers before waving the men off. When he 
turned back to Langley and Radcliffe, the former was watching the 
barrels with a thoughtful look on his face- the first real expression 
Cactusman had seen on him. 


"You alright?” Cactusman asked. A cocktail of curiosity and 
satisfaction in his recent minor heroics almost washed his previous 
thoughts from his mind with an efficiency near comparable to the 
amnestic lingering in his system. 


"Fine," Langley said. His gaze remained on the trolley for a moment 
longer before looking down to Cactusman. "Come on. Let's go." 


The trio exited the massive room and entered one of the various 
tunnels leading out of it. Traffic had diminished to a point where 
Cactusman was no longer shoulder-to-shoulder with people, but it 
was still packed. He glanced around, acutely more aware of how 
close Langley and Radcliffe were sticking to him. Did they think he 
was going to make a break for it or something? Couldn't be too 
careful, he supposed. 


"So what is it they want this cactus thing for?" he asked over his 
shoulder. 


"Hell if | know." Radcliffe threw her palms up in an exaggerated 
shrug. "| was just told to have you calm it down, and that you were 
super important and not to let anything bad happen to you." 


"Uh... Mr. Langley?" 


"| don't know, either. The Insurgency works on a very strict need-to- 
know basis. Given your general disposition | doubt it is anything 


particularly violent." 


Cactusman planned on giving a response but his brain was 
sideswiped when he saw a very tall... thing approach from down the 
hall. It must have been fifteen feet tall, and was composed of little 
more than a round head and lots of limbs. Jutting from the side of its 
bulb were several pieces of electronic equipment, including what 
looked like a headset. It bobbed at Langley, who tilted his head in 
response. Cactusman spun and walked backwards to continue 
watching it, and it only gave him an odd look with one of its six eyes. 
Radcliffe bounced around and then extended a hand, which the 
creature slapped with one of its own. 


"That's Johnson," Radcliffe explained when she noticed Cactusman 
staring. "| love that guy." 


"Johnson?" 


"Oh, like nobody can pronounce his real name. It's long, has weird 
inflections. Plus it makes your ears bleed." She smiled. "Transreality 
beings, am | right?" 


Cactusman had to put some effort into not tripping as she explained 
it. He gave a rigid nod and then spun about face, remembering that 
talking to Radcliffe made things worse somehow. 


After several twists and turns through the tunnels of the complex, 
the herd thinned out until it was just Cactusman and his escorts. 
Every twenty feet down the hallway was a door with a number 
emblazoned on it. Radcliffe marched to Number 836 and produced a 
key from her hand, which jammed into the doorknob. When the lock 
clicked open she pressed the key into her left palm, which sank into 
the skin without any resistance until it was gone. 


"Hello, Mister MacIntyre, welcome home." With a half-bow anda 
grand sweep of an arm Radcliffe ushered Cactusman inside. 


The apartment was small and congested thanks to all the boxes and 
various knickknacks cluttering the ground and shelves. Empty boxes 
of food, dirty dishes, and discarded bottles covered the tables and 
counters. Trash Mountain, situated within and on top of the only 


visible garbage can, looked ready to suffer an avalanche. There 
was, however, a series of very clear cut paths throughout the room. 
Cactusman's gaze alternated between the absurdly large flat screen 
television and the old furniture before shrugging. 


"I'm a bit of a collector," Radcliffe explained. She vaulted the leather 
couch and stretched. "Make yourself at home!" 


"Sorry for the mess," Langley said with a quarter-hearted shrug. He 
stepped out of his shoes and kicked them next to the door. Cactilad 
and Spikigirl were placed on one of the tables, a large lamp pointed 
directly at the open space they were situated in. "Try not to hurt 
yourself.” 


"God, how much would that suck?" Radcliffe said as she switched 
on the TV. "We break him out and take him in and then he kills 
himself tripping on my Wondertainment merch." 


Shuffling his way through the path was easy enough, and when he 
arrived at the couch Radcliffe stared at him for a moment before 
realizing she should move to make room. Meanwhile, Langley was 
rustling through the kitchen drawers. 


"You hungry, Maclntyre?" he asked. He stood and displayed several 
bags of ramen noodles. Cactusman just nodded. "Alex?" 


"Hook me up, I'll grab the movie." Radcliffe bounced back off the 
couch and scampered into one of the other rooms, quickly returning 
with a DVD box. 


"So... this it?" Cactusman asked. "We watch a movie and eat some 
noodles?" 


Radcliffe pulled away from the DVD player. "Do you not like ramen? 
We have some other stuff, you could just say so." 


"No, | mean, this is it? | thought you guys were supposed to be 
making a difference or something. But you're just... watching 
movies." 


"Gotta have an off switch, Danny-boy. | mean, it's not like you're 
Cactusman all the time, right? You gotta be Daniel MacIntyre for a 


while." 
"Um... Right."