"bbbb-b-beatrixxx madadadadadox is asset to foundationn. 
Foundation would ud not lettitititttt her die without without a f-fi-f-f- 
fight," the monster growled. 


She looked sternly into the cold blue eyes of the roiling mass of 
silicon and steel. Her lips, | noticed, were pursed slightly tighter than 
normal. 784's tells were harder to see, but after months of watching 
that thing, | could see the rhythmic opening and closing of its 
spiracles accelerate, just a bit. "Yes, of course," Valentine said. "Just 
like we're not willing to let an asset like you just sit around inside this 
box." She leaned against the railing, reached for a cigarette, realized 
that she was wearing a hazard suit, and settled for crossing her 
arms. "Beatrix Maddox's body was recovered from the incident site 
and regenerated," Valentine explained. "However, the process 
was... incomplete. | believe the technical term is, ‘locked-in 
syndrome.’ Her brain and body function just fine, but they don't talk 


to each other. She is completely awake, but unable to control her 
body." 


784 didn't respond to that. Its blue eyes nicitated once. "The 
Foundation has determined that the only method remaining to us is 
a dosage of Five Hundred," Valentine explained. "As SCP-500 is a 
finite asset, we are... shall we say... let me just say there is 
opposition to the idea of using it on a simple agent. Especially one 
who is officially dead." 


"B-bbbbargaining ch-kkchckip." 


"You see it already, then." Valentine chuckled. "I have been 
authorized to form a new Mobile Task Force, designation Delta- 
Niner: Feynman's Folly. Twelve member team, assigned to support 
you in the field. You will carry out missions containing and capturing 
particularly difficult SCPs. As a former member of Pandora's Box, 
that should be familiar to you. In return, Agent Maddox will be given 
a dose of SCP-500 and restored to her prior state. Is that sufficient?" 


"W-w-wwwwill | bebbbbbe able to s-sssse her?" 784 asked. 


"Of course not. Don't be ridiculous," Valentine scoffed. "She will be 
given a Class A Amnestic and false memories will be implanted 
under a new identity. On the other hand, she'll be alive, and happy. 
And in the end, isn't that all you want? For her to be happy?" 


When | was a kid, | was riding in the front seat of the car when a 
pickup truck cut into our lane in front of us in the middle of a heavy 
rainstorm. My mom hit the brakes, but the car hydroplaned out and 
slammed into the truck before spinning out into the shoulder. 


Even now, the thing | most remember isn't the moment of impact, 
but that moment when the car started to skid: the sick feeling of 
realizing that we were going to crash and nothing | could do could 
stop it. 


"HIT IT! HIT IT NOW!" | screamed. The Deltas glanced at each 
other, hesitated just for one moment. It was all that 784 needed. 


no." 


Just one word, spoken with crystal clarity in the midst of its inhuman, 
buzzing voice... then the three D's fell dead with nanomachine 
spikes through their foreheads. Valentine screamed, and then the 
tendrils lunged forward and wrapped around her, dragging her up 
into the air. A thousand cruel, sickle-like blades formed themselves 
around her in an iron maiden, barely dragging against the surface of 
her hazard suit. "SECURITY!" | screamed. "EMERGENCY 
SPRAYERS, FULL..." 


"WAIT! WAIT! WAIT!" Valentine screamed. "STAND DOWN!" She 
turned back to the cold, implacable eyes of 784's optics, unafraid of 
the razor-edged blades. "wait..." she repeated. 


"only only mimmmmind." 


"| can't let you see her," Valentine said, "but | can cancel the order 
for the Class A Amnestic. Would that be sufficient?" 


"sufficient," 784 whispered. The blades retracted, and the 
nanomachine tendrils lowered the Director to the ground. 


"We'll be in contact with you regarding your first mission," Valentine 
said. 


"“wwuwuwuuwun reskkkkkkkkkquest," hissed 784. "nnnononono 
acetetetetetatone bath. not neinnnnneeded." 


"Agreed. Mister Lorenzo, you will keep 784's containment chamber 
outside the acetone pool as long as it continues to cooperate with 
us," Valentine ordered. 


"Ma'am, with all due respect, that's completely fucking loco," | 
hissed. "That acetone pool's the only thing stopping it from growing 
out of control!" 


"Not any more. Now it wants to cooperate. Don't you, Andrews?" 
Valentine asked. 


"will cooppippppperate," 784 hissed. "kikkkkeep your endiddddd 


a degree of jollity has been observed in participants and 
the speed with which the negative effect is reported 
seems to be diminished. Recommend further research 
with other species of waterfowl. - Dr. 


« SCP-764 | SCP-765 | SCP-766 » 


ofphh the bargain." The tendrils retracted back into the concrete 
holding container, like an anemone retracting back into its polyp. 


"Security, unlock the main doors. Let's go, Lorenzo." 


The solvent bath washed over our plastic biohazard suits, cleansing 
any traces of nanomachines remaining on our bodies. Valentine 
spent the entire five minute cycle leaning against the wall, arms 
outstretched, her head thrown back and staring up at the ceiling. It 
was honestly kind of spooky. 


"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Valentine said, as we were changing out of 
our hazmat suits. 


"Excuse me?" | paused in the middle of shrugging into my labcoat. 


"That body of his... gorgeous." Valentine touched her throat as she 
adjusted her collar, then ran a hand over her steel-grey hair, which 
was starting to come loose from its severe bun. "It'll never grow old, 
never decay. Limited only by his willpower and mind... and such a 
mind it is. Gan you imagine what he could accomplish, if he could 
only master it?" 


"Ma'am," | said, slowly. "Are you feeling all right?" 


"Yes. Better than all right, | think." Valentine said. She pulled on her 
labcoat. "I'll submit a report to Director Clef. The first mission 
assignment should come in this week. Make sure he's ready for it." 


"As you wish, ma'am." | waited for her to leave, then headed for the 
control center as fast as | could. "Herrera?" | said to my assistant. "| 
want double-shifts around the clock. At least two pairs of eyes on 
this thing all the time, and one guy with his hand on the sprayer 
controls: | want this thing watched closer than 173. And put ina 
request for some replacement Deltas, and have the old ones 
removed before | get back." 


"Sure thing, boss. Where are you headed?" 


"I'm gonna talk to Smiley,” | said. "If I'm not back in an hour, tell the 
medics that there's a dead man with a shotgun wound in Clef's 


office." 


Part 3: Escalation 


The 784 Incident: Part 3: Escalation 


Part 2: Negotiation 


"Better the Devil you know than 
the Devil you don't" 


"Hey, Clef?" 
"What's up, Draki?" 
"Not much. Hey, can | borrow your cat for the weekend?" 


"| guess. Why the hell you'd want to borrow that mangy stray who 
always misses the fucking litter box, | don't know, but sure, go 
ahead. You'll probably find him trying to bang Josie. Stupid bastard's 
too dumb to realize that no matter how much she smells like she's in 
heat, you can't get it on when the lady don't got no lady parts." 


"Thanks. By the way, what the fuck is that?" 


"Oh. Doctor Lorenzo was by here earlier, with a formal request for 
an audit on 784 and Doctor Valentine. He thinks she's out of line, 
and using improper containment procedures. Wanted me to check 
up on it." 


"That still doesn't explain the..." 


"|'m just about to get to that. You see, when | first took on this 
position, every day I'd have people come in and complain about the 
stupidest fucking things. Their boss cracks one joke or makes them 
miss one break they come in here whining and screaming and 
begging for an Audit Towards Termination. So I've started testing 
them to see if they're serious. One of the tests is | put a knife on my 
desk and tell them that if they really want me to do the audit, they'll 


cut off a finger. When they pick up the knife, | tell them it's okay, 
they can stop." 


"... |guess Lorenzo really felt passionately about that audit." 


"Cut off his own middle finger, held it up, and threw it in my face, 
and implied me and my mother had improper relations, using many 
four letter words." 


"... cool." 

"| sent him down to the infirmary." 

"So, are you gonna do that audit?" 

"| kinda have to now." 

"You getting soft on me?" 

"Don't let it get around, I've got a reputation to uphold." 


"No problem. Just shoot Gerald in the face and they'll be calling you 
"Clef the Killer" again in no time. Plus, you'll make Bright two grand." 


"What?" 


"Never mind." 


"You know," Chang said, "I've done a lot of freaky, fucked up things 
for this group. I've mowed down an entire Sunday School classroom 
with a Squad Automatic Weapon because they were infected by 
some hell virus that turned them into bloodthirsty mutants. I've seen 
the sea glittering behind the gate to hell..." 


"... all these moments will be lost like tears in rain?" Roybal quipped. 
"Shut up, Roy," Chang snarled. 
"Make me, assgike," Roybal snapped back. 


"Both of you motherfuckers drop it right now or I'll chop off your balls 
and make dango out of them," Takahashi sighed. She touched her 


eyepatch, a souvenir of a bad drop over Kosovo that had sent a 
piece of debris flying into her left eye. That eye tended to ache when 
there was trouble, and it was hurting like hell now. 


"That ain't fair, Lieutenant. Just cause you don't got any doesn't 
mean you have to take it out on those of us that..." 


"Sergeant Chang, you have ten seconds to get to the fucking point 
before | get my gelding tool," Takahashi interrupted. 


"Well, ma'am..." 
"Sir, Chang, I'm a fucking officer, not a housewife or a whore." 


"Well, sir, all I'm trying to say, sir, is that riding herd on a fucked up 
zombie nano-machine monster thing is the most fucked up thing I've 
had to do in a career built off of doing fucked up things, sir," Chang 
said. 


"And? What do you want me to do about it? Put you in for a transfer 
to Headquarters?" 


"No, sir," Chang gulped. 'Headquarters' was a euphemism for being 
reassigned as D-Class personnel: a literal kiss of death for any 
Mobile Task Force member. "Just making a completely off-hand and 
innocent observation, sir." 


"Keep it that way, Chang. I'm not getting shot in the head over your 
lousy griping." 


"Heads up, here comes the Iron Bitch now," Vicks said. He dropped 
his clove cigarette on the ground and crunched it under his boot. 


“Ten-hut!" The members of Mobile Task Force Delta Nine 
(Feynman's Folly) snapped to attention as Assistant Director Janice 
Valentine entered the briefing room. "As you were," Valentine said, 
laying down her laptop computer on the table. "You people probably 
want to get out in the field and start killing things, so I'll make this 
brief. Agent Sandoval has called in a report of a highly dangerous 
biomorph moving through the Crystal Caverns. 784 is being 
dispatched to contain it. You will accompany it to the operations 
area and provide whatever support it asks for. That is all. Are there 


any questions?" 


"Um, yeah," Chang said, raising his hand. "What the fuck is a 
biomorph?" 


"She means a monster, idiot. Like a big, fucking, slimy monster," 
Hopkins sighed. 


"Fuck you, asshole, | was asking the lady a fucking question," 
Chang snapped. 


"Suck my cock, assgike." 


"| got a fuckin’ question for the nice lady," Vicks said, waving his 
hand in the air. "How come we don't got no fuckin’ maps, no fuckin' 
info about the target, no motherfuckin’ support or any mission 
objectives?" 


"784 has all the information you will need to know," Valentine 
protested. 


"So how come the fuckin' Skip gets to know all about the mission, 
and not us?" Chang whined. 


"Because you idiots don't NEED to know. And if it weren't for the fact 
that Foundation regulations REQUIRE there to be a task force in 
support of any SCPs deployed in the field, I'd have all of you morons 
reassigned to clean toilets until judgement day!" Valentine shouted. 


"What the fuck did you just..." 
“TEN-HUT!" Takahashi shouted. 
"Fuck that, Lieutenant, this bitch just..." 


"YOU ARE IN DIRECT DEFIANCE OF AN ORDER, SERGEANT 
CHANG!" Takahashi screamed. "| SAID, ATTENTION!" 


The room fell silent. "Everyone but Chang and Vicks, get your gear 
and assemble in the hangar in ten minutes. Private Vicks and 
Sergeant... sorry, CORPORAL Chang will change into PT gear and 
report to 784's containment facility, where they will spend the 


duration of the mission cleaning the chamber. | recommend that he 
also take the time to contemplate, in great detail and with a deep 
sense of reflection, the meaning of the word, ‘insubordination.’ 
Dismissed." 


"But Lieutenant..." 


"DISMISSED!" Takahashi shouted. The six other members of Delta 
Nine filed out of the room in silence. 


"Your men seem to lack discipline," Valentine observed. She placed 
her papers back in their manila envelope. "I suppose that's all one 
can expect from a Mobile Task Force led by a woman." 


"Forgive me for saying this, Assistant Director, but that seems rather 
ingenuous coming from you," Takahashi retorted. 


"Not at all. Shouting and giving orders is such a man's way of doing 
things. A woman should lead with more subtlety and grace. But 
then, | suppose that a woman who has neither should take what she 
can get." She snapped her laptop shut. "Tell me, Lieutenant, does 
running around with a giant phallic symbol and shooting bullets at 
things make you feel any better about never being able to have the 
real thing?" 


“Thank you for the observation. If you'll excuse me, ma'am." 
Takahashi put her heels together, bowed at the waist, and turned on 
her heel, walking out of the room at a crisp pace. 


"God, | hate that bitch," Valentine sighed. 


"| hate that fucking bitch," Vicks griped. He dipped the mop into the 
bucket and squeezed it out harshly. "God, if | get my hands around 
her neck, I'm gonna choke her till her eyes bug out..." 


"Shut the hell up, Vicks. It's your damn fault we're in here anyway." 
Chang lifted up the toothbrush and studied the tile grout closely. 
"Eh, good enough for government work." 


"Don't know why the Lieutenant don't just pop that bitch one. God, 
I'd pay good money to see that." Vicks leaned on his mop. "Specially 


if they were wearing lingerie and in a tub of mud together." 


"Wait, you want to see ol' Scarface mud-wrestling with a bitch old 
enough to be her mother? What the fuck's wrong with you, Vicks?" 


"C'mon, Chang, you gotta admit, Scarface has a decent bod for a 
molly, and the Iron Bitch has that GMILF thing going. Besides, with a 
name like Valentine, you know she's gotta be a monster in the 
sack." 


"Fuckin' sick, Vicks, you've been in the Forces too long..." 
"Excuse me, am | interrupting something?" a voice said. 


The two soldiers looked up from their bickering. A man stood in the 
doorway, wearing a white lab coat and a hat that could only be 
described in, awe-struck terms, as 'nifty’. He was grinning, a huge, 
impossibly wide grin, and his nose was red and large enough to 
resemble a tomato. Aside from that, he looked pretty much 
nondescript. "If | am, | can come back another time." 


"No, no problem, sir... Dr... Mr. Clef." 


"Clef's my nickname. The people who really Know me call me 
brummmm." He sang that last word, in a manner that, if the two 
soldiers had been at all musical (they weren't), could have been 
identified as a fair approximation of an A-Major chord. "Is this 
Andrew's room?" 


"This is 784's chamber, yeah," Vicks admitted.