Per 
Concrete and steel are powerful things.
Even when they cannot stop physical threats, they can lend a sense of safety to those who need it the most just by existing. In their whole careers, a sizable fraction of the Foundation's employees never actually had to interact with a real anomaly, but there was always a noticable atmosphere of tension around the sites. The effect was somewhat lessened for newer personnel by the constant reassuring presence of the high-tech locks and reinforced doors that were so prevalent in most sites, and there was a commonly held belief among many of the greener employees that nobody could realistically breach a Foundation site.
More senior researchers and scientists, however, knew for a fact that they were correct. Nobody could breach a Foundation site, and had at least eleven times, according to official records.
To the casual observer, the man was just another faceless suit, probably someone from Ethics come down to complain about the usual; strange procedures written by a disgruntled researcher or an unexplained increase in D-Class requisitions. Most let their eyes slide off him as he passed checkpoints and security gates without breaking his stride.
It's not as though he was exactly dressed for the part. The white lab coat was absent, replaced by a fog-gray button-down, and no one on the Committee would ever have been able to pull off a hat. The effect was similar to seeing a very distant relative at a family reunion. He was certainly unfamiliar, yet he carried with him such a sense of belonging, no one thought to ask who he was.
When questioned later by Foundation security, the researcher who let him use her computer was sure he had given her a good reason for needing it, but she couldn't seem to remember what it was.
With access to the layout of the site, the man who definitely belonged in Site-19 quickly found the room he was looking for. After a bit of small talk, a field researcher on his lunch break gave him the access codes for the wing. The researcher smiled while he divulged Foundation secrets, and complimented the man's tie.
Nobody stood in front of the containment chamber that didn't exist, the remnants of flaking paint on the panel above reading "055" in blocky yellow text. He noted with surprise that his heart rate had increased, and his hands had become slightly damp with sweat. Nobody was never nervous, but he was having a hard time convincing himself of that at the moment.
He input the relevant code in a nearby console, and with a slightly inappropriate lack of fanfare, the containment door's locks disengaged with a dull clang. Nobody pushed against the door's steel bulk, and the it slowly swung inward, revealing a small chamber beyond, lit dimly by a single bare bulb in the ceiling. A wave of warm, stale air breezed past him. The chamber had obviously been long forgotten by the Foundation, but it was hardly surprising. He stepped inside, and the door swung shut behind him. The locks clamped down.
Nobody walked toward the center of the room, and looked at the object in residence. He saw nothing, and removed his worn gray hat.
"Hello. It's good to talk to you again."
He stood silently for a moment.
"I'm sorry it's been so long, there were other matters that needed my attention," said Nobody, "But I hope you knew I would come back eventually."
He waited patiently. After several minutes, it became clear nothing would answer. Nobody listened, hands clasped behind his back.
"I know. I wish I could. But this is where you must stay. It's for your own safety," he looked uncomfortable for a moment, when nothing objected, but then regained his composure, "Yes, I know, but I assure you, the alternative would be much worse. The others are unpredictable. They might try to use you as a weapon, or even kill you. At least in here, you won't be harmed. And you haven't been, correct? They treat you well?"
Another pause. Then nothing. Then Nobody, "Good."
He glanced uncomfortably at the cement walls.
"The Foundation has never been much for decor. Perhaps I'll see my way toward getting you a potted plant or something. Liven the place up," He trained his gaze back on nothing, "What about food? Have you felt hungry? Thirsty?"
There was nothing to answer his question.
Nobody sighed, "I thought not. Do let me know if that changes."
The man in gray stood silently in the room with nothing in it for several moments. He heard nothing.
"I'm sorry, the answer is the same as it's always been. I've searched for her everywhere I am able. But I think she is beyond even my reach."
Nothing asked him a question.
"I'm not entirely sure," he said somberly, "My theory is you and I got off lucky."
Nothing doubted him on that point.
"No, I am quite serious," said Nobody. His gray eyes seemed to grow somehow older as he recalled memories long-buried.
"You remember where we were each standing, don't you? She got hit more intensely than either of us."
Nobody paused, trying to find the right words.
"I haven't given up, you know," said Nobody, "I never stopped looking. I scoured the earth as well as I could. Until four years ago. I still can't remember her name, but… I found her family. Her great grandchildren. A man and a woman. I think you would have liked them. The man passed away last year, but the woman owns a home in Nebraska with her husband. She showed me some of her old family albums after we had dinner. Do you know what I saw in there?"
Had he been able, Nobody might have felt his eyes threaten to form tears, but as it was, he simply stared at nothing, his lips drawn tight and his eyes cold.
"She's gone. Missing from every photo. Not the granddaughter, her. Whatever happened, it blanked her from everything. Her granddaughter told me she never knew her great grandmother. Her grandchildren told me she was never around much when they were little, and they couldn't even remember what she looked like when I asked."
The words hung in the chamber.
Nobody continued, "I am at least Nobody. You are at least nothing. But I think, with such a high dosage… I think she just… isn't."
For several moments there was silence. Then he heard nothing.
"I'm sorry. But you need to accept the possibility that I won't be able-"
Nothing interrupted him.
"No!" Nobody shouted. He blinked, regaining his composure. "I can't do that. You know it doesn't work that way. I'm sorry."
The man in gray stood in silence for several minutes. Silence was all that nothing offered. Nobody replaced his fedora, and made his way back to the door. It had been designed so that nobody would be able to open it from the inside, so he did. He looked back into the chamber.
"I will be back, you know. And for what it's worth, I will still look. Not forever. But for now."
Nobody left the chamber, and left nothing behind.
