Asking Intimate Questions of a Clockwork Woman
The following fanfiction is covered under the Creative Commons License, CC-BY-SA 3.0 and is based on "SCP-2412" by "Choiwel".
I've wanted to write this for some time ever since I read the entry about a year ago. I thought it was pretty conceptually straightforward, but absolutely drenched with romantic potential. Thus, I give you this short inspired tale.
"This is such bullshit, Harden! Why is there so much protocol about asking someone a few simple questions?" Carter glared over the desk at the site administrator.
Harden slumped in his chair and rolled his eyes. His office at the end of the hall was quiet and cold like it always was, thanks in good part to the air conditioning providing ample white noise for the occasion. He was quite content in his position over the researchers of sector 125 and aimed to keep it that way.
"Look, Carter..." he groaned, "you are no longer the team lead on this project and besides, 05 command is very strict about this stuff. You are no longer allowed to be in contact with SCP-2412. I swear you've gotten so attached to that thing."
"Her name is Cassandra." Carter mumbled. "She told me that."
"It does not matter. Her designation is 2412. She is an SCP, an anomaly that cannot be explained by the laws of nature and is therefore under Foundation control."
"She isn't a threat to anyone! She's not an indestructible reptile, or a statue that strangles people. She just wants to be asked questions!"
"Carter, I will remind you one last time why she is a threat." Harden adjusted his tie and grabbed a clipboard containing her files. "SCP-2412 is a steam-powered automaton possessing the appearance of an adult female. This entity is capable of answering ANY, let me repeat that, ANY non-paradoxical question correctly."
"I know the file."
"Do you? Then you see why it's a problem. What if a child asked her how to make a pipe bomb? Or a serial killer asked her how not to get caught? Or some random jackass asked her what the winning lotto numbers are this weekend? The truth is dangerous."
Carter closed his eyes and sighed. "I just don't want her to be alone. Her greatest fear is loneliness. You read the interview transcript. She was abandoned in that factory for 150 years before the Foundation found her."
"It is low priority at the moment. Between escape attempts by SCP-106, data breaches, and loss of D-class personnel, she isn't high on the list of concerns about keeping her company and asking her questions like," Harden shifted through more papers on his desk, a number of which were stamped and highlighted, "Ah, yes, questions like: 'what is your favorite flower?' and 'do you experience physical stimulation through contact despite being mostly mechanical in nature?'"
Carter blushed and looked at the floor. After a long moment he spoke once more. "Okay...how about this. Cassandra told me in our last interview that we would never meet again. If you assign me to her and let me see her, that means her prophecy would be wrong, and that would mean she is not infallible. Don't you think that, at the very least deserves some investigation? It would be the only thing she's ever answered incorrectly."
Harden raised an eyebrow and gave a bemused smile. "Huh, that actually is a head-scratcher. I...still can't make any promises. You have become too involved with this subject. We can try it with another researcher. You have other duties to attend to."
"Thank you, administrator." Carter exhaled and lingered in the doorframe. "That's all I ask."
"Remember. No promises."
***
Carter rubbed the bags under his eyes as he gawked into the bathroom mirror. "Fuckin' asshole. I'm going to see her whether you like it or not."
He splashed cold water onto his face and tried to calm himself. He was only thirty years old, and yet The SCP Foundation had seemingly sucked the life out of him. A few wrinkles could be seen on his countenance under his peppery black hair, each one he earned from seeing some new horror behind glass.
He had seen everything that spat in the face of possibility. Carter had seen a human tree that drank blood, a bovine heart that walked on spider's legs and recited 19th century poetry, and even heard reports of a toaster that could control people's minds. Cassandra was different. She didn't deserve to be compared to these atrocities. She deserved a friend.
Stepping out of the men's room at two in the morning, he checked to make sure that Harden and any other researchers that outranked him had turned in for the night. Being curled up in a bathroom stall for the last four hours had made him understandably eager to walk around. After navigating the maze of hallways that lead deeper into the building, he finally came across her chamber.
A single window-pane covered in the lightest condensation was all separated them now. Beyond the glass Cassandra lay in a lone cot, bereft of sheets, a blanket, or even a pillow. They were all stacked neatly on the floor beside it.
She faced the wall of her cell, thus exposing the churning gears along her backside. While a large cog turned in the center of her spine and down her vertebrae, still more tiny mechanisms buzzed beneath her shoulder blades. With each innocent breath she took, her clockwork whirred under her metallic skin and produced a tiny puff of steam.
Even before Carter could press the intercom, Cassandra spoke in her catatonic state. "I knew you would come back."
The voice echoed off the walls and caused him to shiver. She sounded like a light rain hitting the sidewalk.
"You said we would never see each other again. Guess your omniscience needs some tweaking."
"No need." Cassandra turned over and got to her feet. "I lied, so you would return."
"You can lie?"
"Of course I can. Just because I'm capable of answering any question posed to me, doesn't mean I have to tell you the truth." She placed her small doll-like hand to the window as another puff of steam escaped her and painted it white. "Ask me more questions, please."
"What...what is your favorite flower?"
"The Yellow Jessamine. I was quite fond of the ones that grew on my body when I was abandoned all those years ago."
"You were alone for a long time."
"Yes."
"I'm sorry."
"There's nothing to be sorry about. Ask me more questions, Carter."
"Can you...um, well, feel with your body? You know, experience sensation despite being made mostly of metal?"