SCP-6997 - De Rerum Natura (事物の本性について)

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評価: 0+x

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The location of SCP-6997.


アイテム番号: SCP-6997

オブジェクトクラス: Safe

特別収容プロトコル: SCP-6997はSCP-6997が発見された場所に収容されています。アンダーカバー・ファウンデーションの職員はデスバレー国立公園の管理者と協力して、その基地の周囲500メートルの収容区域を維持することになっています。いかなる人物もSCP-6997の表面に直接皮膚接触することは許可されません。表面に皮膚接触した人は、医療スタッフによる評価によって拘留され、抑止力のある治療が行われることになっています。

SCP-6997の固有の制吐作用は、それを撮影した写真やビデオにも及び、適切な鎮静剤を投与された者以外には感知できません。そのため、鎮静剤部門の判断により、鎮静剤は収容および医療スタッフに供給されます。財団の情報セキュリティ資産は、SCP-6997を描写する可能性のあるオンラインディスカッションのウェブトラフィックを監視することになっており、SCP-6997を描写する写真やビデオを特定できるウェブクローラーボットが現在試用されています。

説明: SCP-6997は、デスバレー国立公園の東側、アマルゴサ山脈から徒歩圏内の荒野に位置する、約50×50×150mの黒い玄武岩の一枚岩です。 変則的な耐久性があり、風化した形跡がありません。SCP-6997は、クラスWの鎮静剤を使用した場合を除き、感覚的に知覚できず、SCP-6997に関する記憶の形成を阻害する制吐性を有しています。一枚岩の表面には、西向きの面にある円形のパネルを除いて、植物の生態を高度に様式化した詳細なレリーフが彫られています。このパネルには、同心円状に象形文字や記号が描かれており、これを凹ませることができます。

SCP-6997の表面に直接皮膚が触れると、前述の円形部分を除いて、1時間から12時間の間、昏睡状態に陥ります。この状態では、すべての被験者が非常に鮮明な幻覚を報告し、それを異常なほどはっきりと思い出すため、完全に取り除くには集中的な睡眠治療が必要となります。

補遺6997.1: 発見
SCP-6997は1971年6月、1960年代のカウンターカルチャー運動に参加していたアマチュアのオカルティスト、ラウル・アコスタがデスバレー地域で幻覚作用のある化合物(後に中程度の抗精神作用があることが判明)の実験中に発見されました。 その後、アコスタはデスバレーから車で行けるベイカーという町でモーテルの部屋を借り、1971年11月に自殺するまでデスバレーの資産調査を行っていました。アコスタ氏の研究を詳細に記録した日記は、財団が入手しました。

補遺6997.2: 回収された日記からの抜粋

6/30
現在の処方はDMT20mg、ハーマリン100mg、モクシャオイル20mgで、アヤワスカによる幻覚をモクシャが調整してくれるので、3時間ほど塔を見ることができる。目に見えない古代の石塔を調べるのに、幻覚が邪魔をしてはいけない。ティモシー・リアリー、自分の心臓を食べなさい。
覚え書き: 次の街でウェイシンジャー1に電話して、彼にモクシャ・オイルのケアパッケージを送ってもらうように働きかけているファンがいる。私はしばらくここにいるかもしれない。

7/2
タワーは幻覚を起こさない。サイケデリアのような無意味なパターンではなく、はっきりとした、具体的な、鮮明なものだ。現在の理論では、それぞれのビジョンは、ある心の中で、あるランダムな時点で集められた記憶なんだ。
Weisinger got me the book from the Library—it says similar pillars, cities of them, exist across the world, remnants of the "Oblitus". The last memorials of an ancient civilization wiped out by its own weapons2. I remember the line from Shelley, "look on my works ye mighty…"
the west circular panel has to be a control mechanism; the symbols are buttons. System for retrieving the stored data. Somewhere in there, amongst all the random memories, is something of VALUE.

7/16
the letter says Bunny Hopkins and his platoon got ambushed, 6 killed. I remember when the poor bastard got shipped out, he was practically sobbing, wiping those big coke bottle glasses of his, saying it must've been a mistake he got drafted, the letter must've been for someone else.
we go on about peace and love but where does that get us? Kent State, just more blood spilled and more blame laid on us. The shouting, picketing, sit-ins, WHERE does that get us? Where did all that sobbing and running get Bunny? Vietnam ate him alive, with no body to bury, glasses sunk in the jungle muck.
all that about man being loving? Our nature—to kill, to pick up the broken jawbone and crush the skull of the rival ape.

7/17
the Oblitus had it right. weapons of the mind, spreading as a killing idea.
is that what the tower holds? the weapon that killed them, or something like that, hidden within it? it may take years to brute-force it, sifting through however much information is in there, but I don't have anything better to do. My friend is dead, like so many others I knew, and all I want is for everything to burn, and I along with it.

11/8
I've seen a dozen civilizations die. Did you know that the world bloomed all over with flowers every time it happened? Colors like I'd never seen, and the air thick with sweetness. There were beautiful memories—I remember one where I think I was a father, holding my son as we watched an eclipse, and a hush growing as the sun went dark. But the ones I remember the most were the wars. In the trenches of the Somme, I hummed a lullaby as a friend held my hand and the morphine took away the pain, and at Mylae I buried the Roman dead, because even though I was a friend of Carthage, they deserved to return to their ancestors.
there is no weapon.
the tower is a repository of memory, without distinction or discrimination. I am sure that if I waited long enough, I'd come across every memory I ever had, preserved like a fly in amber. I have died a thousand times in a thousand wars, and received just as many gifts of compassion.

11/10
I've been thinking about Bunny again. All of those Romans and Greeks he used to read and talk about. There was one book, De Rerum Natura, On The Nature Of Things, that he gave me before shipping out. I dug it out of the suitcase and began reading. The author says that death is like a vessel shattering, its contents falling everywhere. The dead don't suffer, because they're gone, scattered in the deepest of sleeps. It's a good idea. I hope it's true, and Bunny's just asleep now.
All those memories are weighing on me. I'm barely ninety pounds, haven't slept in days because when I do, all I see are the memories. Or dreaming of Bunny, gunned down or bleeding in a trap. I might take a walk tomorrow morning. Because I know that if I keep going on, I'll go mad.
Yesterday I found a plaque, buried in the sand—it must have been attached to the tower at some point. I transcribed its inscription, and I think what it says makes a lot of sense.

Addendum 6997.3
On the 11th of November, park rangers discovered Raoul Acosta on a plateau near Zabriskie Point, having committed suicide by gunshot. He carried a note in his pocket, believed to be the inscription of the aforementioned plaque, which has been transcribed below. A metal plaque was recorded amongst the possessions in Acosta's motel room by the San Bernardino County Sheriff's Department, but its location is currently unknown.

Forgetting is a necessity. The scientist who experiments on a laboratory mouse must forget that it lives or suffers. The soldier who must kill, first kills the humanity of their foe. The tyrant, building an empire, must forget that joy or compassion exists, and tell themselves that the suffering of those under their care is just another obstacle.
The Oblitus knew this. That is why this tower exists, built to remember their culture even as they died. It precedes us, and we are the heirs to its purpose.
We may die in the darkness, shattering into lifeless atoms, and this may be rationalized as being for the greater good, or as punishment, or as a reward. Human nature is a strange thing. We teach ourselves that man is but a monster, to be disciplined and caged, and build great things from this foundation. But this foundation is a lie, or at least is not the whole truth.
That there is more than one side to man will seem like a monstrous abnormality to those used to seeing the nature of things in a simpler way. That is the abnormality we protect. Our duty: to memorialize, not only your crimes, but the true nature of man, at any cost.
We will remember you.

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