The gravity of the situation now fully revealed, the Foundation scrambles to prevent a world-shaking crisis.
Evan
Evan sits at a small table in A9HQ. Dr. Light is next to him. Joining remotely are not one, not two, but three members of the O5 council. O5-4, who has the most experience dealing with Groups of Interest, O5-7, and O5-10, one of the Foundation’s foremost experts on K-Class scenarios.
They’re nothing more than voices behind a speaker, each represented onscreen by an icon bearing their number that lights up when they speak. There’s something almost comical about it, like a skype call. A skype call with three of the most powerful people in the world. People before whom Evan is completely helpless. He is both their soldier and their prisoner. They could do anything they wanted to him, and no one would even try to stop them.
They won’t, of course. He’s loyal, and they know that. Still, they could, and even after six years, Evan still has to push that thought down in their presence. He can’t let himself remember what it was like to be one of their test subjects. One of the ‘its’ they contain and study. He has more important things to worry about. He has to save the world.
Also joining the meeting remotely is Foundation researcher J. Erlenmeyer. Unlike the councilors joining this conversation, Erlenmeyer is on camera. He looks frazzled. He’s in London at the moment, where it’s the middle of the night. He was awoken and summoned here because he is the Foundation’s foremost expert on Fifthism.
Light just finished summarizing their situation for the benefit of the newcomers. The Fifthists have a way of afflicting Starlight Saga readers with what Erlenmeyer has already dubbed ‘Sudden Onset Ojai Syndrome.’ All they have to do is arrange for a ritual sacrifice with a few thousand victims. A tall order, but far from impossible, especially since they get to try again and again as long as their memetic agent is widespread.
“Do we know for sure SCP-7851 can cure this agent?” O5-10 asks.
“The Fifthist we interrogated seemed to think so,” Light says, “but we haven’t confirmed it, and we’re not sure exactly how we would confirm it. Our standard cognitohazard tests don’t detect this memetic agent. That’s how this situation became so grave without us noticing.”
“I’d be very surprised if there is no way to detect it, though,” Erlenmeyer says. “If this thing can do something in the human brain, then there has to be some difference between it being present and it being absent. If testing for its effects doesn’t work, we should bring noosphere people into this. They might be able to scan people’s minds for it directly.”
“We couldn’t do that at scale, though,” O5-7 says. “No way of getting millions of people into scanners.”
“We don’t need to,” Erlenmeyer says. “We just need to test for it in one person, in order to verify that SCP-7851 can cure it.”
“I see,” O5-7 says. “Erlenmeyer, see that you contact a relevant expert.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“For the time being,” O5-4 says, “let’s assume the scenario that currently seems most likely, that SCP-7851 can cure the memetic agent. We need to figure out how to efficiently and systematically purge it from the population. At the same time, we need to interrupt gatherings of potentially infected individuals who could be used as sacrifices.”
“Those are contradictory goals,” O5-10 says.
“What do you mean?” Light asks.
“A gathering of a large number of infected individuals is a potential ritual site,” O5-10 says. “However, to efficiently purge the population of the memetic agent, we need large numbers of affected people to gather together so 7851 can cure them all at once.”
“Perhaps we could use that to our advantage,” O5-7 says. “The obvious way to prevent the sacrifice from being performed would be to disrupt large gatherings of Starlight Saga readers, but perhaps we’d be better off trying to take advantage of them. What if instead of trying to outright cancel such events, we ensure our people have control over them? Then, we send 7851-1 in to purge the agent from the crowd we’ve gathered. While said crowd is theoretically a potential sacrifice, the Fifthists would be hard-pressed to arrange a sacrificial ritual at a location we’re actively controlling.”
“What about 7851-2?” O5-10 says. “Has any progress been made securing its loyalty?
“Excuse me,” Erlenmeyer says, “there’s a 7851-2?”
“Yes,” Light says. “We’ve discovered another humanoid with the same abilities. 7851’s younger brother.”
“That’s great news!” Erlenmeyer says. “Doubles the number of purgers we have.”
That makes Light grimace. “We… have been struggling to secure the new entity’s cooperation,” she admits. Then, over the course of five mortifying minutes, she recounts the entire situation regarding Jerry.
“It is unfortunate,” O5-10 says. “Our odds of success would be greatly increased if we could secure -2’s cooperation.”
“We’ve been trying,” Light says. “It’s difficult. 7851-2 is extremely hostile to the Foundation, even for a member of the Serpent’s Hand. As things stand, I don’t dare take 7851-2 off-site. On the off chance it did agree to help us, it’d almost certainly be because it was planning to escape.”
“Getting the cooperation of GoI agents isn’t some unsolved problem,” Erlenmeyer says. “Bomb collar. Half a dozen guards. Easy peasy.”
Bomb collar.
It takes every ounce of willpower in Evan to keep the horror off his face.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea to risk killing 7851-2,” Light says.
“Tranquilizer collar, then,” O5-10 says.
Light sighs. “It’s worth a try,” she says. “However, I think it’s safer to assume we won’t be able to secure its cooperation, or at least that we’ll have to start the process without it.”
“Start without it, yes,” O5-10 says. “Accept that we don’t secure its cooperation long-term? I think not. You are to find a way, Light. That’s an order.”
“Yes, of course, ma’am,” Light says, without missing a beat.
“Either way, we need to start taking control of gatherings where large numbers of Starlight Saga readers might be present,” O5-10 says. “Our prime targets are conventions. Perhaps we should bring Director Sherman into the fold? I’m to understand he attends a lot of them. He probably knows them better than any of us do.”
“That’s a good idea,” O5-4 says. “We should also start reaching out to amiable Groups of Interest. This is the kind of end-of-the-world scenario that even our rivals may be willing to work with us to stop.”
“GOC is a given,” Erlenmeyer says. “They were involved back with Star Signals.”
“Agreed,” O5-4 says. “I’ll get on the phone with Fine as soon as this meeting adjourns. The Horizon Initiative may be willing to donate some resources as well. I know they have connections with churches that can gather large crowds.”
“I think almost any GoI would be liable to side with us with the fate of the world at stake,” Light says. “What about the Serpent’s Hand?”
There is a moment of agonizing silence.
“What about them?” O5-7 asks.
“I ask because that’s where SCP-7851-2’s loyalties lie,” Light says. “The simplest way to get its cooperation would be to work with them.”
“Out of the question,” O5-7 says. “The Serpent’s Hand cannot be given access to an SCP-7851 instance. Their primary goal is to break the Veil. We can’t allow them access to an entity that can reverse amnestics so easily.”
“Agreed,” O5-4 says. “Unless the situation degenerates to the point where we’re seriously considering giving up on the Veil, we have to maintain control of SCP-7851-2. If it is hostile to the Foundation, that simply means we secure its cooperation using force.”
Evan takes a moment to remind himself that Jerry has spent months being unreasonable, and that anything he’s subjected to as a result is his f…
No. He can’t even finish that thought. God damn it. What are they going to do to him? After what they did to secure his cooperation last time, what will they do now that the fate of the world is at stake?
At least the council ordered Doctor Light to do it. If anyone could find a way to secure Jerry’s cooperation without hurting him, it’s her.
“Erlenmeyer,” O5-7 says, “Start working on finding a way to test for our memetic agent. We need to know as soon as possible if we can really cure it.”
“Understood,” Erlenmeyer says.
“At the same time,” O5-7 says, “we’ll have SCP-7851-1 moving through conventions and other gatherings. We can’t afford to wait until we know for sure that the agent is curable. We need to work fast, so we’ll assume it is and start the process accordingly.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Evan says.
“Light,” O5-7 continues, “it’s your job to gain SCP-7851-2’s cooperation. Anomalous means are on the table. Reach out to me if you have one in mind.”
“Understood,” Light says.
“I’ll call Fine,” O5-4 says, “then the Initiative, and from there I’ll branch out toward other potential allies.”
“Alright, then,” O5-7 says. “Everyone’s course of action would seem clear, then. Move to adjourn the meeting.”
The other overseers agree to adjourn it. The screen goes dark.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Light says, collapsing back in her chair as soon as the overseers can no longer hear her.
“If anyone can find a non-violent way to get my brother to cooperate, it’s you,” Evan says.
“I know,” Light says, “but ‘if’ is doing a lot of work there. Still, I can’t go feeling sorry for myself. You have the hardest job here. They’re going to want you purging the agent non-stop. You have a lot of sleepless nights ahead of you.”
“I know,” Evan says. “Believe me, I know.”
Jerry
I’ve just finished my shift curing members of the public when Light calls me to her office. Both my treatment room and Light’s office are in Alpha-9 HQ, so all the guards escorting me have to do is lead me down a hall, and soon enough I’m sitting across from Light’s desk.
Last time she wanted to talk to me, she came to my treatment room. I don’t know why she’s summoned me to her office this time. Maybe it’s a security thing? Maybe she’s about to tell me something sensitive? Alternately, maybe it’s a flex, her way of reminding me that she’s a high-ranking member of the organization that owns me?
“The lead you gave us was fruitful,” are the first words out of Light’s mouth after I sit.
“You call me here just to thank me?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “You were right. We believe a memetic agent capable of causing Ojai Syndrome is latent in everyone who’s read the Starlight Saga.”
I don’t let myself react to that. I can’t let them know that that news is personal to me. I don’t want them to have even the slightest hint Theo exists.
“Everyone?” I ask, as flatly as possible. “No exceptions?”
“None that we know of, presumably apart from you and your brother.”
So, Theo is probably affected.
“Are you under the impression you can cure whatever this is?” I ask.
“We’re hoping you and your brother can,” Light says.
“Sure,” I say. “Put some Starlight Saga readers in my stream of patients. They’re not different from the others.”
“There’s a problem with that,” Light says. “We’re short on time. So long as the agent is widespread, the Fifthists are well-positioned to make a winning move. To reverse that situation quickly, we need to purge the memetic agent from the public as rapidly as possible. Ideally, that means moving you and your brother between large crowds of affected civilians in order to purge the memetic agent en masse.”
“I seem to remember you agreeing not to ask me for any more favors.”
“And I prefer to be a woman of my word, but this situation is too desperate. Bringing affected civilians to you just isn’t enough. We need to take you off-site, to large gatherings of infectees. If we can’t, the Fifth Church will win.”
The Fifth Church will win. That will transform the whole world into a surreal hell. This will affect everyone. Mom and Dad. Theo. Every member of the Serpent’s Hand, and all the people we fight to protect.
“Alright then,” I say. “Let me go. I’ll tell the Serpent’s Hand how desperate the situation is, and hopefully we’ll be able to put our differences aside and join forces to save the world.”
“Unfortunately, it’s not quite that simple,” Light says. “While it is possible that we will collaborate with the Hand to some extent, my superiors aren’t willing to entertain the idea of letting you out of Foundation custody.”
“You just said you want to take me off-site.”
“You’ll be off-site, but you’ll be guarded. We’ll fit you with a wearable device that can disable you on command. If you try to run, we’ll activate it. It won’t do you any long-term harm. It will just knock you unconscious.”
“Please tell me you’re joking,” I say.
Light shakes her head. “You’re too great a threat to the Veil to be set loose.”
“Well, that sounds like a Jailor problem, not a Jerry problem. I can work with you against a greater evil, but you’re not carting me around with a knock-out collar on me.”
“Your pride is more important to you than the fate of the world?”
“Pride?” I say. “Not wanting to be treated like a slave is pride to you?”
“Look,” she says, “the fate of the world is at stake. Every person on earth—hell, every living thing—will endure a catastrophe unlike any other unless we purge this memetic agent from tens of millions of people in a matter of, to be exceptionally generous, months. I don’t blame you for not wanting to wear a tranq collar. I wouldn’t either, and if I had my way, I’d prioritize surviving this situation and worry about the Veil later, but I’m not in charge. The stakes here are bigger than you. Bigger than me. Bigger than the Veil. Bigger than the entire struggle between the Serpent’s Hand and the Foundation.”
“And why does that mean I have to make a concession? Why shouldn’t you have to?”
“I’m not asking you to do this in exchange for nothing. What would you like? I could revisit downgrading your friends to minimum security. Now that the stakes are higher, I might be able to get O5-7 to agree to that, and I’ll definitely be able to get an answer from her more quickly.”
I think for a moment about my comrades. About the people who got captured by the Foundation because they came on the mission to help me. Don’t I have an obligation to do everything I can for them?
They didn’t seem to think so. They didn’t view this situation as my fault at all. For a moment, I contemplate the idea of a Jailor knock-out collar around my neck. I think of all the horrible things the Foundation has done to innocent people. These people told my parents that Evan was dead. They probably said the same thing about me.
I remember, vividly, the last time a Foundation agent held me down and jabbed me with a needle to knock me out.
“Let them go,” I say.
“Your comrades?”
“Yes. Let them go, completely. That is the only thing I want badly enough that I would endure the indignity you’re demanding.”
Light sighs. She types a few words into her keyboard. There’s a bloop, and she glances at her screen. “As expected, the overseers aren’t willing to do that.”
“Once again, a Jailor problem, not a Jerry problem.”
“What about another humanoid anomaly?” Light asks. “One that doesn’t pose the threat that an enemy combatant does? Given the gravity of the situation, I could probably get the overseers to let someone in containment move into a Free Port.”
“Are you suggesting that the Foundation imprisons innocent people who aren’t a threat to anyone and would harm nothing if they were let go?”
“Look, I’m trying to work with you, okay? Is there really nothing you want that the Foundation, the most powerful organization in the world, might be able and willing to give?”
“I’ve told you what I want. If it’s okay for you to value imprisoning me and my friends over saving the world, it’s okay for me to value freeing them over saving the world.”
“Even if you do neither? Even if they end up trapped in the same hell world as everyone else once the Fifthists win?”
For one more moment, I think of Theo, and I hesitate. Ojai Syndrome doesn’t just brainwash people into cooperating with the Fifthists. It places them in a Fifthist mindset. It makes them irrational, violent, and unpredictable. It makes them attack other people, which might cause other people to defend themselves. If the Fifthists pull off this sacrifice, a lot of people, possibly including Theo, will die.
Of course, that’s assuming the Jailors are being honest with me about the gravity of the danger.
They probably aren’t. If they are, why aren’t they willing to make any real concessions to me in order to save the world?
“For all I know, the situation isn’t even what you say it is,” I say.
“What reason do you have to doubt what we’re saying? You already know the Starlight Saga was dangerous. We learned that information from you. Would you like to see the video of Callum Michaels explaining the rest of the situation to your brother? Because that much I could arrange for.”
“Callum?”
“Yes. That’s who we learned the rest of the details from.”
Could that be a lie? Could they have gotten Callum to lie for them? To act out a video scene with Evan purely for my benefit?
It’s not completely impossible, but it’s hard to imagine. I haven’t seen him in six years, and didn’t know him well even then, but everything I do know about Callum makes me think he’d hate the Jailors as much as I do.
“Let me answer your question from a second ago,” I say. “What reason do I have to doubt you? Simple. The fact that you aren’t willing to let even a handful of Serpent’s Hand agents go in order to facilitate this allegedly world-saving effort. I think, if the stakes were as high as you say, you’d be willing to do that.”
“You both overestimate and underestimate the Foundation.”
“Another Jailor problem, and still not a Jerry problem in sight.”
Light clinches her fist. She tries to hide it, but she can’t. If anything, her own demeanor is the one thing that seems to match the Foundation’s story. She seems genuinely desperate to secure my cooperation.
Of course, that could be for any number of reasons. All it really means is that whatever’s going on is important to the Foundation. That proves less than nothing about their project being for the benefit of the whole world.
“I’ll arrange for Callum’s interrogation to be screened for you,” Light says.
“Go ahead. It won’t change anything.”
But of course, she already knows that. I can see it on her face.
I gather that she was ordered, probably in harsh terms, to secure my cooperation. She seems to want it very badly. It’s extremely satisfying to deny it to her.
Finally, there’s at least one Jailor besides my brother who I can make miserable.
Maybe I should let the world end, just to keep seeing this look on her face.