====o=====================================================o===== "Passages in Memory" (revised) by Mary Ruth Keller E-mail: mrkeller@eclipse.net =====o=====================================================o===== Part II - Inventory (Disclaimed in Prologue) -----o-------------------------------------------------o----- Second Servant: Madam, he hath not slept to-night: commanded None should come at him. Paulina: Not so hot, good sir: I come to bring him sleep. 'Tis such as you, that creep like shadows by him, and do sigh At each his needless heavings, such as you Nourish the cause of his awakening: I Do come with words as medicinal as true, Honest as either, to purge him of that humor That presses him from sleep. The Winter's Tale -----o-------------------------------------------------o----- Scully Residence Norfolk, VA Friday, January 31, 1997 9:37 am Leaning on the door frame, Mulder watched Scully dig in the medicine cabinet. The bedroom she had been given shared a walk- through bath with the one her Mother was using. Through the far door, he could see that Margaret had brought the pictures of all four of her children and her husband to arrange on the drop-leaf nightstand by her bed. His partner's room was furnished more sparely than the other, since it had been little John's, prior to his Aunt's arrival. One of the cherry ladderback chairs from the dining room set had been pressed into guest service for the duration, and stood just inside the hall door. Margaret had pushed the other nightstand from her room in for her daughter, and positioned it under a small, uncurtained window. The dark green chenille spread covering the narrow single bed Margaret had rented and set up for Scully, contrasted sharply with the folded patchwork quilt and the zoo creature wallpaper. Purple giraffes with pink spots, red and yellow striped zebras, pale blue smiling lions and orange chimpanzees chased each other in neverending circles around the room, through a forest of palms and banyans. He had wondered how long it would be before the animals would disappear under the characters from "Reboot," or whatever other kid's show was all the rage today. Mulder reached out to touch his partner's arm. "Would it be easier if I told them?" She stopped to focus on him. Scully was gratified by his consideration, but she knew she could not use their friendship as a crutch when it came to her brothers. "It would for me, Mulder, but that's not fair to you." She stared into the room behind him, studying the green vine pattern running across the vinyl flooring. "Val and Mom should hear this from me." Seeking reassurance and support, she looked up at her partner. Hr nodded. "I understand, Scully; some things are for family to do." He rested one hand on her shoulder. "But I know you and Charlie aren't close..." Gritting her teeth, she grasped the edge of the sink cabinet with both hands. "That's why I have to be the one to tell them. I have to convince them it isn't personal between Charles and myself." She reached for his wrist, pushing back the rolled-up sleeve. "Let me take those bandages off so you can shower." Blinking, he tried to force a jest to form in his brain, but found he was too numb from sleeplessness to do more than unbutton the shirt and pull it off as they walked back into the bedroom. He settled on the bed, so she dragged the chair over to face him. Scully snipped and rolled, exposing the still-healing burn and bites on his arms and chest. At her silent command, he flexed and rotated his wrist and arm, watching for her nod of approval at his current stage of recovery. Climbing onto the mattress, Scully crawled around until she was kneeling behind him to remove the gauze on his right shoulder. As she probed the gunshot wound, he grunted, so she queried, "That hurt?" He swiveled carefully to speak behind him. "A little. It's mainly sore. So?" She patted his left shoulder. "You'll be all right. No infections, no nerve damage to your hands. This will probably be the last time I have to swaddle you up, Mulder. What did you lift that was heavy?" As she touched the entry wound lightly, he struggled to remember, his forehead deeply crinkled. Mulder felt her weight shift as she leaned against his back, and he focused on the red smear on the finger she held in front of his face. "What?" She spoke the word gently in his ear, her tone one of concern, not accusation. He sighed. "Mrs. Beddowes needed some help moving in a new television." Cringing, he waited for the lecture. But she had moved until she was sitting beside him. "Well, at least it wasn't running across the roofs of buildings, chasing lights in the sky, Constable Fraser." Smirking, he leaned into her face. "Ah, you can't resist a man in uniform, even if it is red serge, can you, Scully?" She pointed across in front of his nose at the bathroom door. He shook his head, firmly grasping the straightened arm. "Your turn." Resigned, she unbuttoned and removed her wool suit jacket, draping it over the back of the chair before she sank onto the rattan seat. She watched him cut the tape and unwrap her hand and arms carefully before he growled at the weepy holes in her wrist. "You should be the one to talk. What did you have to move to find *it*?" She pursed her lips. "Charlie didn't want anyone to know. I had to ..." They moved together so she could whisper the location in his ear. His face darkened as he balled her bandages up with his, carried them to the bathroom, and tossed them, hard, into trash can. "So you shifted all that before calling me for my help?" As he sat across from her, he held her chin to keep her eyes focused on him. "Two-way street, Scully. Don't make me worry about you more than I already do." She reached up to hold his elbow. "Sorry, Mulder. I'm too used to ..." He frowned. "Pushing yourself on my behalf." He dropped his hands to rest on his knees. "I've watched you grit your teeth and struggle to keep up with me when I charge off on something. I appreciate and admire that courage, Scully, but it's time you stopped, so I'm not running off after lights in the sky, not anymore. We can't afford for either of us to wear down or come apart, not with all we have to face now." Straightening, he touched her shoulder. "Take it easy for a while, I'll be out shortly." The rush of events over the last few months had settled into her body as a deep ache, that she ignored most of the time. But, today, after another night with no sleep, she felt nothing but numbness, so she nodded. Her assent obtained, he pulled a pair of sweatpants from a Thalheimer's bag. Scully could feel her weariness tugging at her shoulders, but her mind was still churning. Now that Mulder was free of fear for his Mother, and certain he would find his Sister, he was centering his prodigious energies on their partnership and the expanded Section. Shoving her shoes off her feet onto the floor, Scully dropped into the pillows, cocooning the quilt around her chin. When he checked her with a quick glance before he entered the bathroom, she sent him a small smile that he returned with a lift of his eyebrows. --o-0-o-- Mulder rested against the cold yellow tiles and let the hot water pound down on his back, relieving the pain/itch in his shoulder. They were trying to take better care of each other now, but he could read their deep-set fatigue in the thin face of his partner, and in the lines he saw on his own, every morning while shaving. If the evidence in the basement indicated what they thought it did, the Shadows were recruiting more forces among the military, but to what end? Had the old men carried around so much knowledge in their heads that the new Group was forced to rebuild as it rediscovered what had been lost? Or had the invasion the Smoking Man told his Mother about suddenly assumed new urgency? He wanted to talk this over with Scully, so he finished quickly with his ablutions. --o-0-o-- Interstate 95 Friday, 11:37 am State Trooper William Rice sighed and swallowed the last of his cold coffee. The muscular sandy-haired man tossed the styrofoam cup in the trash before climbing behind the wheel of his brown cruiser. He had just been called to work a double shift, and he wasn't too pleased at the prospect. He would have to phone the babysitter, to make arrangements to keep his girl another few hours, until Carol could leave work. But that would be after he called in the fire, and checked for survivors. He pulled off onto the side of the road, stepped out and sighed again, the flashing lights on the roof bar reflecting in his sunglasses. From his vehicle, he could tell the flames had engulfed the cabin of the semi, and the entirety of a large sedan. Wrinkling his nose at the stench, he opened the trunk to retrieve flares and cones for blocking the road. Rice waved to the Fredericksburg police as they arrived, with three fire trucks, an ambulance, and a hazmat unit immediately behind them. After set-up, the fire crew began applying foam to the blaze. Down in a ravine, it looked like a black van was upright and resting against a guard rail. He trotted down the hill and peered inside, through the shattered front windshield. Three odd-looking men were slowly reviving. "You folks all right?" The bearded one rubbed his head. "Yes, we are, thanks." Langly searched around for his glasses, exclaiming at the broken frame, while Frohike tried the engine, grinning when the motor started. The officer persisted, "Did you see the accident?" The men looked at each other and shrugged. Byers climbed shakily out of the van to stand and face Rice. "Not really. The car to our right crested the hill at the same time we did, and we had to swerve to avoid a tanker truck ourselves, which is how we ended up down here. I guess the sedan wasn't able to stop in time, was it?" Rice scribbled on his pad before checking the other two men. "Is what he says how you two saw it?" Frohike nodded. "I was driving, so I was mostly concerned with where we were, relative to the other truck." Langly pinched the right circle of his frames around the lens. "I was in back, so I didn't see anything." Tucking the sunglasses in his pocket, Rice cocked his head. "You boys wouldn't be hiding anything from me, would you?" "No, Sir," a three-part chorus sang in unison. The officer lifted an eyebrow as he flipped to a new page in the notebook. "All right then, let me have your names and addresses so you can be on your way." The trooper guided Byers back in the van with a touch on his elbow. --o-0-o-- Scully Home Norfolk, VA Friday, 10:18 am "Hey." Reacting to the warmth of his hand on hers, Scully awoke. Her partner's spiky hair dripped, sending little rivulets down his bare chest to darken the waistband of the new sweats. The sight brought amused light to her eyes. "Sorry, Mulder, you can't turn me to stone, no matter what you try in the Cosmetology Department." One corner of his mouth twitched, but his eyes were intense, so she sat up while he slid the ladderback chair over, waiting for him to voice his concerns. "Scully, what if the Shadows know or have found something out about the alien invasion my Mom told me was coming? Could they be recruiting for that?" Chewing her lip, she worked through the evidence she had seen that supported his hypothesis. Finally, she nodded once and lifted her eyes to his. "Mulder, you may think I'm fevered or possessed when I say this, but..." He leaned forward. "Maybe." He shook his head. "I think you may be right, Mulder, because your idea answers the question that has been nagging at me ever since your sister supposedly came back." Now, he focused on her fully, and the Hunter's eyes drew the explanation out of her. "It's the same query you'll hear from any scientist or two year old: 'Why?'." After she tucked her feet under herself, she reached over to tap his hand, once, then again. "First, I'd like to apologize for some of the things I've said when we've discussed, no, *fought about* this, before. You're probably not aware of the depth of my fears, but after Missy died, I wanted to run back to the security of what was known and understood. When you were in the boxcar, I almost lost you because I didn't want to admit there might be a *reason* for all the tests on humans." She tried to clasp her hands in her lap, but winced and placed them flat on her legs instead. Concerned, he grasped her wrist. "Scully, if you need to sleep, we can ..." Her chin firm, she shook her head. "It was more comforting to think we were dealing with some cruel attempt to torture our society's unwanted than to think it might be more. I still think that's true with the homeless virus, since Broadway seemed to be testing purely for profit. But, all the times we've crossed paths with the Shadows, it's been clear that the stakes are far greater than whether you find your sister, Mulder." She paused to study his face. Still holding her wrist, he shifted to a more comfortable position on the hard seat. When she saw he had remained eager and bright-eyed, she continued, "Since we found the D'Amato notebooks, I've been reviewing them, and our cases, trying to make sense of it all. But, no matter what I came up with, I still can't pull all we've seen together into one coherent picture. I've tried to square it all as just human atrocities against other humans, but that's not right. The test subjects are not the estranged or the underprivileged; they're just normal men and women." He slid forward. "So, you've finally come to agree with me, that the alien abductions are real?" Pursing her lips, she shook her head. "I've never agreed that all the probing and testing was by aliens, partly because, there's no reason for it." As he began to splutter, she slid to the edge of the bed and leaned into his face. "Please, hear me out, Mulder. A civilization would have to be very advanced to marshall the energy and resources necessary to build ships to traverse interstellar space. Once they had that, if they could solve those problems, what could they gain by poking Joe Six-packs' or Jane Housewife's reproductive organs?" As she shrugged and settled back, Mulder expelled a breath. "Scully, maybe the whole purpose of their exploration is that they've lost the ability to have offspring!" She rubbed her eyes. "But if they were having trouble reproducing, and their lifespan was similar to ours, they couldn't survive through the years to reach Earth! If they were that long-lived, their DNA would be as different from ours as ours are from that of a damsel fly! And even if that were their agenda, why us? There are other life forms on this planet that have multiple offspring far more frequently than we do." He leaned back. "But, Doctor Ivanov suggested the aliens may be robots, so lifespan wouldn't be a problem. They could just fly from one star to the next, collecting samples of the sentient life-forms on the planets they encounter." She shook her head. "None of the supposed abductees ever report seeing anything except humans on those spaceships. Why? Why Homo Sapiens? Gorillas and chimps are almost identical to us, genetically speaking. Furthermore, depending on how self-awareness is defined, a good case can be made for the cetaceans and the elephants." He crossed his arms. "I don't see how this discussion is productive, Scully. We've been over this too many times, you and I, and we've always ended up at each other's throats. We should just drop it, right now." Her shoulders drooped. "No, Mulder, your idea of an invasion *is* productive. Don't you see, preparation to resist one is at least a *logical* explanation for all the covert activity and cover-ups; it ties together many of the things we've witnessed and experienced." She tipped her head. "The evidence from the MJ documents and the leper colony says, at the very minimum, that there were tests and experiments on humans for years and years." She looped her hair behind her ear. He clenched his fists. "But that would mean you're admitting the government has known they were coming all that time." She settled back against the wall. "Mulder, why are you surprised? Don't we know each other well enough by now? Why should I continue to deny the validity of the accumulation of evidence we have seen? I'm a Physicist; it violates the principles on which science is based to cling to incorrect or outmoded ideas in the face of overwhelming data to the contrary. There is so much your idea explains neatly. Take, just to name a few examples: whatever it was the Japanese had in that boxcar, what was done to me, and the report we just gave the Gunmen. Given those, I think I can safely say that someone with deep pockets and heavy security believes they must prepare for something exceptionally powerful and advanced headed our way." He threw up his hands. "But the videotape, Scully. They clearly had an alien on that table. Nothing on earth has green blood." She nodded. "I agree." His eyes narrowed. "Nothing does." Both eyebrows shot up on his forehead. "But, how do we know that we were watching a blood transfusion in progress? Why couldn't that have been a test to see how a subject's body behaves with something other than blood in its system? Do you know what tests are performed on animals in the name of medicine and psychology? It isn't only animals. We know..." She glanced out the window. "We know that..." She swallowed. Understanding her discomfort, he leaned forward and continued for her. "The Nazi butchers tried similar experiments in the Camps." Her eyes deeply sympathetic, she nodded. "I'm sorry, Mulder." He shook his head. "It's okay, Scully. So, if you don't think what we saw on the videotape was alien, what do you think it was?" Mulder leaned against the horizontal slats between the seat's uprights, tipping the chair onto its back legs. Grateful he hadn't stormed out of the room, she touched his knee. "A genetically engineered super-soldier, Mulder." Exasperated, he stood, ignoring the slap of the chair as it hit the carpet. "Scully, when we were arguing in Klemper's greenhouse, you wouldn't admit..." Now she struggled to her feet as well, righting the upended furniture. "That genetic experiments were underway?" He stood over her, nodding, worried by her deeply shadowed eyes. "I meant then, in 1951." She swayed slightly, so he cupped her elbow as she settled on the chair. She waited until he had sprawled across the bed, facing her, then she continued, "Now with the advances in medicine, it's perfectly possible." He frowned. "So you think the classified experiments to recombine human DNA are ahead of what is otherwise available?" She sighed. "The medical procedures involved have been in use, in research, for about twenty years. It wouldn't take a great leap in technology to begin cataloging the human genome, just time and money." He rubbed his face. "Which our adversaries have obviously had." "If they had that data base we saw and could manipulate human genetic materials at will, then consider the possibilities, which brings me back to the 'why' question. We wouldn't need the super- soldiers they seem to be trying to create just to fight Soviets; we had atomic weapons and Mutual Assured Destruction to keep a balance of power with them." His eyes glowing, he shifted upright on the bed and took her by her shoulders. "Scully, am I hearing you say what I think you are?" Breaking his grasp, she rose, slid the chair away and hugged herself, unable to meet his eyes, speaking quietly to the wall behind him instead. "Yes, Mulder, you are. Based on what we have seen over the past five years, I am hypothesizing that about fifty years ago, some group with power and authority found evidence they believed pointed to the possibility of a future invasion of Earth. In addition, I postulate that this same group, or its successors, have been trying to develop defensive capabilities against such an attack. Their actions may be responsible for the woman who claimed to be your sister, the Eves, and the problems I've had as a result of my disappearance." He gasped, reaching out to hold her. "Thank you, Scully." She closed her eyes and gripped his arms before he could enfold her in them. "However, that doesn't mean I accept that the alien abduction stories are true, Mulder. I think we can both agree that what happened to you and to Sam was not a typical UFO encounter." She turned to look over for his nod before she began pacing. He dipped his head once. "My problem with those is two-fold. One, they are so terribly similar to 'recovered' stories of abuse from very early childhood, Aboriginal visions quests, and the accounts of Witches' Sabbaths gathered by the Inquisition, all of which were induced. I have to wonder if they aren't related somehow." They were both seeking common ground here, not a fight, so she stood in front of him, rocking slightly, waiting for his response. He leaned towards her. "I know, Scully. I've studied all that stuff myself, and our new Skeptic has promised to hand over more reading material for my insomniac nights. It's been tough, trying to piece together my Mom's memories and what I worked out with my hypnotherapist." She sat beside him, resting her hand on his. "I think that's because he didn't try hard enough, Mulder. I think you were hypnotized when Sam was taken, and given false memories to replace your real ones, either out of compassion, or to cover the kidnappers' identities, just as the old man indicated." When he began to turn away, she grasped his shoulder, softening her tone. "These are the same reasons you believe explain why I can't remember. But they took her, and I think it might be connected to aliens, only not the way you were programmed to think." He focused on her intently. "Deep Throat told me 'they have been here for a very long time'." She shrugged. "What does that marvelous cryptic statement mean, and who are they? How many are 'they'? One, two, twelve, one hundred and forty four thousand?" She moved closer. "Mulder, I saw the Pilot morph before my eyes and that creature who was supposed to be your sister dissolve before witnesses, so I can't deny that something not exactly human is loose here." Scully pressed her hand against the mattress, supporting herself as she continued to present her case. He reached towards her, but dropped his hand when he realized she wasn't finished. She focused on his eyes, her own gleaming intently. "But you need to ask yourself these questions. If they were already here in large numbers, given the technology they would have to possess to make the journey, why wouldn't they have succeeded in conquering us already? If it was one or two just watching, wouldn't they be able to do a better job of staying out of sight?" Her cautious probing drove him to his feet. "What's your point, Scully?" She rose and stood by his side, watching his jaw flex and relax. "My point is my other problem with typical abduction stories." He huffed. "It's too close to what happened to you?" She shook her head. "It was never that, Mulder. Where is the independent corroboration of the UFO, like radar blips or sightings by telescopes?" He threw up his hands. "Gone, covered up, collected by the government, don't you see?" At her nod, he stopped, frowning in his confusion. "You *do* see?" "Exactly, Mulder. As powerful as the Shadows are, they can't cover up evidence if an observer thinks he is witnessing something else, and treats the data as such. There are too many professionals and amateurs watching the sky all over the world, trying to be the first to witness a new astronomical phenomenon so he or she can put his or her name on it. They can't be everywhere at once." They stared at each other, one looking down, the other up. "But?" "But, for these typical abductions, very few are accompanied by reports of objects moving in the sky at the same time, and in the same place." She watched him redden. "*But*, if, *if*, there is an invasion fleet on the way to earth, it should be trackable at night." Shaking his head, he stepped away. "I don't follow you, Scully." She sagged back into the chair. "Maybe we're both too wiped out to make much sense. Let me start over on this." Waiting, Mulder watched his partner close her eyes and frown in concentration. Finally, she shook her head. "Okay, we'll try this approach." She rested her chin in both of her hands, with her elbows on her knees, so he lowered himself to the floor, crossing his legs as he sat. "How did the astronomers search for the planet Pluto?" He pursed his lips. "They looked for a dark spot that blocked starlight in specific portions of the heavens following the orbit the planet was predicted to occupy. But no one's looking for planet X anymore." She dropped her arms into her lap. "However, they are actively looking for comets as we speak, Mulder, and they use similar techniques. Where do comets come from?" He rubbed his face. "The Oort Cloud, beyond the orbit of Pluto." At her nod, he thought carefully. "And you suspect that one of the comet hunters would be the first to spot something large moving towards Earth from outside the Solar System?" She lifted one corner of her mouth. "Yes, I do." He cocked his head. "But what if they're moving faster than the speed of light?" She stared at her hands for a moment before meeting his eyes. "Are we talking Cochrane Drives here, Mulder?" She arched a red eyebrow at him, watching him grin back. "If something *could* exceed relativistic limitations, it should still have an effect on the electromagnetic waves passing through it, either by distorting the spectrum or by translating the apparent source. There are an infinity of possibilities, but, it has to make a mark on the known universe; it won't just magically appear and disappear." He tried to link his arms around his now raised knees, winced at the pressure the action placed on his burn, and moved over to the bed instead. "So if there's really a fleet, despite the Shadows' activities, it should be detectable with existing resources." He sat in silence. "But how will we know that?" She shrugged. "Monitor the astronomy groups on the Net? Send out carefully worded requests for information? Give Frohike some reason to surf the Web besides to download fake nudes of film stars?" Scully sniffed. "I'm sorry, Mulder, but I really need to shower." He was staggered, both by the magnitude of the problems, and by the fact that his Skeptical partner was considering his theory so seriously. But, after the drive and the search, he was also numb, so he yawned. "Yeah. I'll just check out for a bit." As she collected her clothes, she turned to look back at him. Her partner had stretched out on the bed, the damaged shoulder keeping him off the almost healed rib. "Mulder?" He tipped his head so he could see her without moving. "If I were you, I wouldn't work myself up over this idea. I'd be, and you should be too, praying to whatever it is you have the faintest trace of belief in, that I'm wrong, and that this is all a flight of fancy." He sobered. "Right. It wouldn't be 'Independence Day.' Anything that can traverse interstellar distances won't be stopped by lap- top viruses or F-16's." Scully jumped as she inadvertently bumped the door frame with her hand. --o-0-o-- FBI Lab J. Edgar Hoover Building Washington, DC Friday, 11:47 am While standing behind her right shoulder, 'Charlie' smirked and tapped 'Ace' on her left arm. The brunette chuckled and whirled to face him, smiling. "Drew! I knew it was you by your breathing! What fearsome beast brings you down to the murky depths? I could have met you back in my office on the sixth floor." He grinned back. "'Finn' is being watched, and we can't figure out who is doing it. Have you seen anyone strange lurking around your place?" She shrugged. "No, I haven't. What about you?" He shook his head. "Well, then maybe his cat-burglar days are numbered. Could it be because of his," she speculated as she leaned over, "art thefts?" 'Charlie' huddled close to her. "Possibly. Are you sure you haven't seen anyone around your place?" She patted his arm, the contact sending shivers up his spine. "I can take care of myself, you know." Speechless, he nodded. "Have you seen my latest special?" Grinning, she held out a finger, waiting while he focused on the thin wafer balanced on the tip. "It has its own internal CPU and memory, and when attached properly, draws its power from the phone itself. All the user needs to do is slip it inside a telephone receiver. There, it will monitor and record all calls, as well as the conversations in the room. If it is placed on either speaker in the hand-piece, it will remotely download data and receive instructions over the phone lines." Charlie beamed. "What will you think of next, kid?" She bounced on her seat, blushing at his praise. "I'm meeting 'Finn' so he can take this one to his interview with Matheson this afternoon. Want to come along?" His face fell. "No, thanks, I just heard from Luther. I have to drive down to Stafford to meet with him; they messed up the tail on the Gunmen, and two of our guys are dead." Sobering, 'Ace' shook her head. "It just keeps getting worse, doesn't it, Drew?" He patted her shoulder. "We never thought it would be easy, but we'll do a better job running things then the Old Men were, don't worry." Turning back to her lab bench, she slipped the wafer in a clear anti-static bag. Before he left, he mussed her hair, but her focus had returned to her work. She waved absently over her shoulder when she heard the door open. --o-0-o-- Scully Home Norfolk, VA Friday, 11:37 am Scully stepped out of the shower, pulled on her sweats and a short-sleeved light blue T-shirt, then rolled up the cuffs so they would clear the bites. Her concerns that the low-fat diet she was on would retard her skin's recovery had been alleviated by observing Mulder's progress on a daily basis. His rate of healing was nearly identical to her own. As she glanced in the mirror, she smiled at the reflection of the silk-screened design on the front. Just last week, she had custom-ordered this, a big-eyed, contented penguin with a bulging stomach, sitting with its webbed feet splayed out before it. When she opened the door, she saw him supine on her bed, his arms at his sides, and one bare foot sticking above the leg it was across and resting on. A casual observer would have concluded by the closed eyes and limp posture that he was asleep, but she knew that, prompted by their earlier conversation, his mind was racing from one possibility to another. As she sat on the edge of the mattress, the box springs creaked. He opened one hazel eye, then rolled upright, concerned she was massaging her left shoulder. "Let me take care of you first, Scully." He gingerly grasped her wrist and moved her right arm until it rested across his large hands. He rubbed the gunshot wound lightly with his thumb. "How does it feel?" She shook her head. "I hate the admit this, but since Val's not equipped like I usually am, and since I was out of gauze before I left DC, neither of us can take care of the other until I make a supply run." He closed his hands around her arm. "But does it still bother you?" She nodded. "I hope between Fortner and the testimony of his employees, Halberstam's put away for good, Mulder." He frowned. Reading his expression as discomfort over the old memories their previous case had dredged up, she soothed, "Perhaps you won't have to go down there and be put on the spot again." He shrugged. "Whatever it takes, Scully. I don't feel like I'm such a failure as a human being anymore, not like I did at his first trial." She lifted her arm to rest her hand on his shoulder, her face forming into the purring expression that usually preceded a joke. "You're not, and you should never feel that way about yourself. Admittedly, your behavior and theories sometimes makes me wonder whether I shouldn't sample *you* for alien DNA, but you're no failure, Mulder." Chuckling, he gently grasped her wrist and lowered their hands into his lap, where he ran his fingers over the holes on her arm once before releasing her. "Thanks, I *think*. So, how long do you think it will take?" "Hum?" She slid off the bed, sat in the chair, and reached into her bag for her shoes. "How long do you think it will take to find out if there's an army headed our way?" Scully looked over as she pushed her feet partially into the black walking shoes, then down at the laces before she tried to tie them. As she grasped the heel, the flexing and twisting cramped her bitten hand, so she stopped to cradle it in her lap for a moment. Frowning, her partner slid to the end of the bed, lifted her foot onto his knees, and continued for her. She considered protesting, but, more interested in sharing her thoughts and ideas, chose to continue their discussion from earlier. "Well, the universe is vast, Mulder, about forty billion light-years across, and we haven't seen any indication of intelligent life from the stars close to us." He glanced up at her green-blue eyes. "Yeah. Billions and billions of light-years, and no patterned radio sources such as we've been sending out since 'The Green Hornet' and 'The Lone Ranger'. We haven't heard anyone broadcasting to the semi-evolved life-forms that the secret is to..." Smiling, they spoke together. "Bang the rocks together, guys." He set her foot down and hoisted the other, adjusting the tongue and sliding the shoe onto her heel. She frowned. "After Chiapas and for different reasons, I'm sure, neither of us really accepts the idea of 'Ancient Astronauts'." He nodded. "So we're left with the reverse SETI problem. They have to know we're intelligent by our transmissions of 'My Mother the Car' or 'Peyton Place' and decide to check us out or eliminate us based on those messages." She lifted one corner of her mouth at the thought. "Right. Although, if they're out there listening, I'd prefer to think they were receiving 'Playhouse 90' and 'The Ernie Kovaks Show' myself." He placed the foot, in its laced shoe, on the carpet, before balancing his weight on his hands, pressing down on the mattress on either side of him. She rose slowly. "In either case, they'd be no further than 65 light-years away. He crossed with her to the door. "But the ones who are here, what about them?" She glanced up at him. "As I mentioned earlier, we don't really know how many are here, but they'd have to be working mostly on their own." Mulder nodded, shifting his weight to lean against the wall. "That's one of the benefits of living in the unfashionable arm of the Milky Way, Scully, no interstellar traffic jams. Do you want me to come with you on this medical run?" Her eyes traced the droop in his shoulders. "No. I could have spared us this if I had thought about supplies in Lynnhaven, rather than looking at clothes, but all I was thinking of was carrying around enough bags so *it* would be camouflaged." She went to her briefcase for her cel phone, carrying away her suit jacket, which had been folded neatly on the floor. "It's too early for the Gunmen to have returned home, but if we might conflict, I'll let the phone ring six times before I expect an answer, okay?" His eyes narrowed. "You're sure you want to go alone?" She tucked the unit inside her jacket. "Yes. Besides, someone has to watch out for Val and my Mom, now that there are two 'men' around the house, Mulder." He sent her on her way with a lopsided grin and a toss of his head. "Okay." He returned to the window by the bed, waiting until she left. Afterward, he watched for a car following her, but when he saw none, settled back on the bed with a sigh. Briefly, he considered crawling under more covers than the quilt before he drifted off again, the variegated padding only warming his feet and legs. He pushed himself off the pillows, and dug the unit out of his jacket pocket to rest it on the bedside table. --o-0-o-- Senator Matheson's Office Washington, DC Friday, 1:03 pm Senator Richard Matheson lifted a blue folder off the table, then with his arm extended, crossed the room to greet his candidate, "Mister Lindhauer, welcome! Have a seat, please." The two men made themselves comfortable on the facing sofas in the front part of the office. The Senator mentally compared his limber, well-muscled physique with the long, spare frame of the blond man across from him. "Thank you for agreeing to consider me, Sir." Matheson waved his hand. "Nonsense. You have connections to Wall Street, and we Democrats don't want to be seen as unfriendly to Big Business, not this term. Senator Randall wrote you a glowing recommendation, and I want to maintain good relations with my Esteemed Colleague from Texas." He smiled. "For the next four years, we servants of the people, regardless of which side of the aisle we occupy, have some serious business to attend to." He glanced down at a blue folder on the table between them. "When will you start with us? Next week?" Lindhauer nodded. "That would be fine, Sir. I've moved to the Hill, so you can call me at any time, day or night." "Good. I look forward to seeing you then." Another aide appeared in the door. "Sir?" "Yes?" "The students from the new handicapped school are waiting in your outer office, and the photographer just arrived." Matheson nodded and turned to Lindhauer. "If you will excuse me." "Of course, Sir." He caught sight of the clear crystal decanter on the side table. "May I have some water before I go?" Distracted by the children in wheelchairs, Matheson shrugged. "Certainly." Lindhauer waited until the door closed before lifting the nonstatic bag out of his pocket. --o-0-o-- Scully Home Norfolk, VA Friday, 1:27 pm Little John Scully raised his wooden train off the living room carpet, but dropped it as the sound of a second shower rumbled through the ceiling. When it ceased, he moved closer to the stairs, attempting to listen to the quiet conversation between his aunt and her part-ner, or Fox, as Gamma called him. He recognized Aunt Dana's quick, precise steps, but hid behind the sofa, waiting until he heard the outside door close and the part-ner's car engine turn over. He sat, his eyes wide, wondering about the strange dark-haired man he had seen only briefly with her. They had been in the basement, but now she was gone, so he slipped out of the living room. He knew how to creep silently around grown- ups, and Mommy and Gamma had talked so much about the part-ner he was curious. One step at a time, he pulled himself up the stairs, and padded to his room. He slowly turned the knob on the door and peered at the bed. In the same laborious manner as his ascent, the toddler climbed down, calling for his Mother. When the Pomeranian yapped at the commotion, Margaret, drying her hands on the dishtowel she had been using, stepped from the kitchen into the hallway. "What is it, John-John?" She tucked one corner of the terrycloth in the waistband of her khakis. "Mommy's at the hospital with Daddy." Picking the boy up, she balanced him on her hip, as she had four children and nearly as many grandchildren before him. Trotting over to sit at her feet, the Pomeranian wagged his tail at his playmate, high overhead. "It's *Fox*." The child's legs swung as he struggled with the colliding images. "He's *naked*!" Margaret failed to conceal a small grin. "No, John, I doubt that." She, too, had heard the running water and had waved her daughter off, so she had a fairly good idea of why the boy would think his Aunt's partner was undressed. "You run along and play. I'll check on Fox." The toddler's eyes grew wide. "He's on the bed! They're not married!" She set him on his feet and lifted one of his rubber balls off the floor. "He's probably taking a nap, just like you do when you're tired. Aunt Dana and Uncle Fox were working in the basement all night long. Why don't you play with the doggie for a while? You throw the ball and he'll chase it for you, watch!" She rolled the green and purple striped sphere down the corridor. The little canine, who had struggled up and down the stairs after the child, obliged happily. John followed the Pomeranian as fast as his short legs would go. Margaret smiled. After climbing the stairs she knocked softly, but the wooden door, shrunken in winter's dry air, was loose enough that the latch slid out of the frame. It swung open. The bruising on his side had nearly completely faded, but the gashing and tearing in his shoulder and arm, as well as the burn, shocked her. "Oh, Fox." Margaret's hand flew to her mouth. She crossed to the bed and bent over her daughter's battered partner, speaking his name once. Groggily, Mulder reached for the cel phone and held it to his ear, opening his eyes only upon hearing the dial tone after he punched the answer button. "Oh, Mrs. Scully, hi." He grimaced as he sat up. Margaret settled at the foot of the bed. "I'm sorry." She patted his knee. "I didn't realize how bad it was for you and Dana until I saw you just now." Chastened, Mulder pushed himself off the mattress, retrieving and donning his navy canvas shirt before settling into the ladderback chair. He responded in the coarse, flat voice of one awakened from a deep, needed sleep. "It's not so bad." He tried to smooth his hair down with both hands, but the spikes kept popping back up. "We're okay, just tired." Margaret crossed to the front window Mulder had watched Scully leave through, speaking without turning to him. "I've heard that from both of you more times than I should have these past few weeks. If I can be honest with you," she persisted, spinning around, "I think you're both working too close to the edge right now." He forced himself to his feet. "There's too much happening for us to stop, Mrs. Scully. I wish we could take a long break, but we don't dare." She walked over to him, gripping his waist with both her hands. "I'm not nagging, Fox, but I *am* worried. I care what happens to both of you, you know." He nodded, still lost in sleep and too tired to speak anymore. When Margaret linked her arms around his back, Mulder enclosed her shoulders with his own, leaning heavily against his partner's Mother before he could stop himself. "You startled little John-John, you know." Stepping away, he sagged onto the mattress and rubbed his stubbly chin. "Sorry, didn't mean to hare out the little guy." He glanced at the white band of skin around his wrist. "How long has Scully been gone?" She frowned. "I don't know. Why?" Sliding off the bed, he reached for his cel phone, and tapped the first speed dial button. Two rings, and, relieved, he resumed his seat as she answered. "Scully." "It's me. You okay?" "Sure, Mulder. I M-ay B-e E-ast I-n N-o G-ood T-ime A-lthough I L- eft E-arl's D-oor open." "Okay. Just drive carefully." "Right." He terminated the call, hugging himself and pacing. Margaret walked over to stop him with a hand on his arm. "What is it, Fox?" He focused on her face. "She's being followed, Mrs. Scully." Mulder rubbed his eyes. Margaret shuddered. "What has Charlie gotten himself into?" Restless for his partner's safety, he shrugged. They headed into the hall, Margaret wanting to check on her grandson, and Mulder leaping down the stairs to station himself by the front window in the living room. When he heard his car pull into the driveway, he crossed the carpet to open the door for her, guiding her inside when she was within arm's reach. "You okay?" She nodded, looking from his face over to her Mother's as the older woman entered, clutching John by the hand. "Mom? We may have to head back to DC later on today, but, please, try to convince Charlie not to attend those meetings he had announcements for." "Why?" She looked to her partner for support. He nodded, stepping close to her. She pushed her hair behind her ear. "We've been investigating some of the groups sponsoring the meetings, and while they claim to be concerned for the welfare of America, they have another, more dangerous agenda in mind." Margaret crossed her arms. "Is this something you and Fox have worked out, Dana? Just because you and Charlie have never seen eye to eye on anything ..." Mulder shook his head, watching the little boy peek at him from behind his grandmother's legs. "No. It's a free country, Mrs. Scully. We'd like to see it stay that way. There's a special FBI task force still investigating Oklahoma City and looking closely at those groups. The Miami Police have tied the man who," he explained as he looked down at his partner, "hurt Scully, back to them as well." As he spoke, Margaret noticed the protective way he closed the distance between himself and her daughter without touching her. "All right, I will." She frowned at their drawn faces. "Enough of this. You two can't be Steed and Emma if you fall asleep standing up. I *will* start nagging if you don't scoot upstairs and rest before you leave." --o-0-o-- "Think she'll talk to Charlie?" Scully cut the gauze and laid the scissors beside her on the bed. She had settled him in the chair to give her easy access to his shoulder. "My Mom always does what she promises. How long before we hear from the Gunmen?" He shrugged. "The way Frohike drives? It should have been an hour ago." At her nod, Mulder held out the other arm. After she had wrapped it, the cel phone buzzed from the side table. They both waited, counting the rings according to a simple prearranged code that would foil any would-be eavesdroppers. Three rings. Mulder and Scully glanced at each other. A pause, then three more rings. Another pause. Two rings. Scully worked in silence, finishing off the other arm and the shoulder quickly. As Mulder wrapped and bandaged her, she yawned. "You can use Val's bed, if you like, Mulder, but Mom's right. We should sleep before we start out. We'll probably talk ourselves into heading right for the Gunmen's when we return to DC." Nodding, he dropped the supplies back in her bag and yawned as well. "See you." He listed slightly as he crossed to the door, trying to think up a more appropriate exit line, but failing. Scully waited, but all she heard was the click of the door latching across the hall. --o-0-o-- Scully Home Norfolk, Virginia Friday, 4:58 pm "Scully." The buttons on the cel phone felt strange, and as she awakened, she realized she had answered her partner's, rather than her own. "For your own safety, Agent Scully, turn the document over to me." As she pushed herself off the mattress, she growled at the cool voice on the phone. "And what document might that be?" "Don't be coy; you haven't had the same practice as your partner. We both know what report I mean." Scully looped her hair behind her ear. "We don't have any files that would be of special interest to you." She slid off the bed, heading for the door, wanting to waken Mulder for this. "But you do, Agent Scully." As she opened the door to Val's room, she saw him stirring, and when she caught one red-rimmed eye, Scully mouthed 'X' at Mulder. He held out his hand for the phone, so she passed it over, while dropping onto the edge of her brother's bed. "What do you want with us?" He curled over his bent knees while she watched. "Greetings, Agent Mulder. As I was suggesting to your partner, you *must* turn the report in your possession over to me. This information is of more than academic interest, and I warn you, it has caused the death of several. Don't add yours to it." He rolled his eyes at her. "Your concern touches my heart. I wish you had possessed such warm feelings for me on Christmas. But, we don't have it." "*Agent* *Mulder*! Now is not the time for lies! The time will come when my warnings will cease if you do not take them seriously!" Enraged, Mulder terminated the call, snarling at the darkened display. "Right. Why do you always come at your convenience, not mine, then?" Scully stood beside her partner. "We should head back now." He nodded. "The guys have had the chance to work *it* over, Scully. Besides, the longer we stay here, the more danger we place your family in. I'm afraid we've made targets of ourselves." Crossing back over to her bedroom, they changed out of the sweats they used for sleeping. In the barest nod to propriety, Scully stepped into the bathroom with her khakis and a thick red cotton sweater, while Mulder clipped tags and pulled on stiff new denim. When he was ready, he tapped the door once, and she emerged. Neither was much concerned with appearances, only with expediency. --o-0-o-- I-64 Approaching Richmond, Virginia Friday, 7:03 pm "Mulder?" He glanced over at his partner. "Hum?" "We can't just vanish this time." He passed a Winnebago before replying, "I know. As much as it bothers me, we need to tell Skinner and Matheson about this before we head out." She studied his sober face carefully. "I expected an argument." He shook his head. "No, not on this. I have to think about marshalling our resources for the future, not just the problem of the moment. Skinner covered for us on the Homeless Case, and, in many ways, the expanded Section is due to Matheson's influence." Scully was startled. "How do you know that?" He sighed. "It would take that kind of pull to suddenly promote us from being the FBI's most unwanted to a semi-independent Section. We both know he's seen to it that Skinner's far more visible than he was before Chiapas." She stared at her lap. "The success we had with the Homeless Case was all the justification he needed, then." She crossed her arms. "So it was always all politics, not our success rate or our investigative skills." He puzzled over her statements, then shook his head. "Hey, Scully, don't think you didn't earn it; you did, if anything, just for putting up with me all these years." They locked eyes. "But, I'm determined to make the most of it. Look what we've accomplished once we started working together closely. If we can build a successful team with our two new agents, then we may be respectable enough to stay out of the Basement come the next election." He arched one eyebrow. "Besides, four desks down there will really cramp my shooting style." She chewed her lip. "You still think putting Nichols and Rosen below will make them bond?" He shifted in his seat, wondering at her reluctance. "You don't? It worked for us, and you only shot me once." She lifted her chin. "Well, it's worth a try, anyway. But McConnell said Randall wanted to dismantle major government operations this term. He implied in parts of the FBI, Mulder." "I don't think he'll come after the X-files, even though he may have promised the folks back in Amarillo he would eliminate the Bureau, just so they would pay his way to DC. The plans to expand overseas have made it out of the Justice Committee. I could always declare Vlad the Impaler a case so we can check out Bucharest, Scully." The Look would have peeled paint. Mulder smirked, mentally holding up a white placard with 10.0 in bold black letters on it. "*Mulderrrr*." He concentrated on the broken white line as he rated the intensity and menace in the barely audible growl. "Well, perhaps you're right. Or maybe figuring out how the government makes a decision is an X-File in and of itself." He grinned at her joke. "Nah. Chaos theory, pure and simple." "No wonder it's broken. So, which of us tells Skinner?" "RHIP, Scully, your turn. He grilled me about the Section yesterday." "Okay, what are we telling them?" They exchanged a glance. "Just that we have a classified document we suspect contains information about covert government activities, and that certain organizations aren't very happy that we do." She dropped her voice into her teasing purr. "Well, considering what happened the last time you two 'talked' about our possession of sensitive files, I should probably *volunteer*." "*Sculleeee*." She focused on her hands. "And if he asks for more?" They spoke together. "We're looking into it." Grinning, each thought how good it felt to be clicking like this, while he steered the Camry into the exit lane. --o-0-o-- Skinner Home Falls Church Friday, 9:37 pm After Mulder parked the Toyota on the street, the partners walked up the driveway to the home Walter Skinner shared with his wife. It was she who answered the knock, then stepped back to usher them in. Before Sharon indicated they should turn, Scully glanced down the entrance hall, catching a glimpse into the dining room. The house was what she expected from an ex-Marine, tastefully furnished with sturdy, clean-lined walnut tables and subdued tans and greens in the upholstery and drapes. On the walls were brightly colored silk fish banners. While she didn't remember her Father mentioning such decorations from his time in Vietnam, they were certainly reminiscent of that lush green country. The Assistant Director rose as they entered the living room. Having just stoked the flames in the rust and white sandstone fireplace that was the centerpiece of the main room, he was replacing a poker in the stand. Mulder was only used to seeing his boss on the job, so the jeans, Rockports, and plaid flannel shirt were a surprise, but only for a moment. Their boss focused on his partner as he walked over to them. "Agent Scully! Agent Mulder indicated you might be away for quite some time. How is your brother?" "He'll be fine, Sir." After waving them toward one of the sofas, Sharon took her husband's hand. "I should be back from my run in about an hour, Walter." After his gesture of assent, they exchanged the perfunctory kiss and small smile of a long-married couple. Scully stopped and turned at her words. "If you wouldn't mind, Sir, we would like..." The four left the house. After they watched the slender, graceful brunette disappear around the corner, Skinner turned to his subordinates. "Agent Scully?" She glanced at the ground before replying, "We may have found a government document that explains some of what happened to me, Sir." Narrowing his eyes, he studied first one face, then the other. "Is this one of your little escapades, Agent Mulder?" Scully shook her head. "No, Sir, it was found by someone my brother commanded." She quickly filled him in. Focusing his full attention on her, he listened. "So where is it now? In a bank vault?" He glared at Mulder. "Or do those three ..." The tall agent found himself responding. "Yes, Sir. They brought it back earlier today, and we wanted to touch base with you before we headed over to tell Senator Matheson about it." Skinner shook his head. "Don't bother. He's probably still at his office, so I'll phone him after you two leave." He began to turn, but called back over his shoulder. "Good Luck, and whatever you have planned, just give me a general itinerary before you take off." They returned to Mulder's car, driving away as the front door opened, and a shaft of light spilled out into the night. --o-0-o-- West Chase Apartments Laurel, Maryland Friday, 9:27 pm In the illumination from behind her, 'Ace' could make out the face of her friend, and smiled as she greeted him. "Drew! What brings you to Maryland? Stepping inside her apartment, 'Charlie' surveyed the interior. Every flat surface in his colleague's efficiency was covered with electronics or computers, either assembled or undergoing upgrades. His eyes finally came to rest on what he considered this dwelling's most attractive feature, its occupant, and he grinned. "A lovely lady who shouldn't be spending her Friday nights all alone. Whatcha-up-to?" Frowning, she padded back to her dining room table. "Just setting up this dual Pentium motherboard so I can run it with two others. I've had an idea for a new encryption algorithm, but the code I've written cries out for parallel operations, so I thought I'd try something simple first." She pulled out a chair for him, then moved the plastic off the open chassis as they talked. "So how come Mister Bigshot isn't out on a hot date himself?" She grinned at him before twisting her shoulder-length hair in a loose knot to keep it out of her face. "Oh, you know how it goes, sometimes you get lucky, sometimes you don't." 'Ace' picked up a #0 Phillips screwdriver before bending over, and the shrunken grey wool sweater gaped at the waist, away from the jeans faded almost to white. 'Charlie' glanced quickly at her skin, then swiveled his chair and brought his face near hers. His closeness unnoticed, 'Ace' winced. "Yeowch!" She bent her head forward and rubbed her neck. "This table is just too low to be a good work surface, but it's where I have the best light. It kills my neck to double over like this." He grasped her shoulder. "Hey, take a break. You can't work all the time." 'Charlie' stood behind her. 'Here, straighten up and drop your chin forward on your ... chest." He began massaging her neck, eliciting a deep sigh. "You are really the sweetest guy, Drew. I wish there were a thousand like you." He was glad she was facing away from him, so she couldn't see him flush with pleasure at her words. Just then, one of the computers started beeping, and she lifted her head. "Someone's calling Matheson." They walked to one of the machines on the living room sofa, and watched words scroll by as Skinner relayed Mulder's and Scully's message to the Senator. When the call finished, the two Shadows stared at each other. "Drew, we'll need to alert 'Finn' and 'Andrew'." 'Charlie' nodded. "We'll have to decide whether to send in a team for the document or not. I think we can still call up the black units from Quantico if we need to. It's time we stopped fooling around. If Mulder and Scully put this up on the Net, we run the risk of exposing everything." The pair grew solemn as they focused on each other's faces. --o-0-o-- Office of the Lone Gunmen Alexandria, Virginia Friday, 10:23 pm "You guys look terrible! What happened to you?" Mulder dropped his hand to Scully's back, ushering her into the front room, both relieved to have the long drive over. Langly regarded them woefully. He had repaired his frames with a loop of fine wire, threading it through holes he had drilled on either side of the break and twisting it shut at the top. "The van almost bought it, Doc. Some of those government types must want the report, bad. We were chased by three fleet sedans up '95." Frohike, his face swollen and purpled on the right cheek where it had contacted the steering wheel, nodded. "We would have been away clean had they not encountered a full gasoline tanker." Mulder was deeply concerned. "I didn't want you guys to be hurt working on this. We left the Scullys to try to keep them safe, but I should have thought ..." Byers stepped forward. "No problem, Mulder. This is as important to us as it is to you." He had pressed two dishtowels into service for a sling, but held the partially restored document in his free hand. "This makes for very interesting reading, I assure you. If you can verify some of the details in here, it would be more devastating to the Shadows than MJ probably was." He opened it to one of the pages that had been completely blacked out. "It seems Iowa and West Virginia were central collection points, and test subjects deemed sufficiently undamaged were usually shipped to the West Coast for relocation." Taking the report from him, Mulder flipped through the document. "Does it say where?" The bearded Gunman shrugged. "I still have about fifty pages to go. Langly had started it, but with his headache, he didn't need to spend his Friday night sniffing acetone. I expect to be finished in the next few hours, if you'd like to stay." Both agents nodded. Scully put her hands on her hips. "Have any of you seen a doctor?" They grinned. Mulder leaned over her shoulder. "They are now, Wendy. Still glad you flew away with me to the Lost Forest?" She rolled her eyes. "Okay, one at a time. Byers, you first. I need to determine if this a sprain or whether you've dislocated your shoulder." When Frohike drooped visibly, she glared at him. "I'll take care of you next, just hang on." As Langly and Mulder smirked at each other, Scully guided Byers over to the kitchen and began untying his sling. "Mulder, would you pull my bag out of the trunk?" Nodding, he turned to pass through the vestibule. --o-0-o-- Capitol Hill Washington, DC Friday, 11:12 pm At the ringing of the doorbell, Lindhauer trotted down the stairs of his new row house, stepping over the still-packed boxes from his move, and flicking on the exterior light. Through the peephole, he saw 'Charlie' and 'Ace' outside, so he unlocked the door, nodding a greeting as they entered hurriedly. "What's news?" As 'Ace' took a seat on the couch, 'Charlie' stood guard by the door. "We've called 'Andrew', and he should be here shortly. But that wire you planted in Matheson's office had already proven its worth." "Oh?" Lindhauer looked over to 'Ace'. "How?" She met his eyes. "We know Mulder and Scully have the report. I surmise from the conversation they've already turned it over to the Gunmen for analysis, which means that shortly, they will be deciding to put it up on the Web, or something else equally foolhardy." Lindhauer began pacing. "We can't let this work be exposed, not without a good cover story. The Old Men were caught flat-footed by the release of the D'Amato notebooks, so we need to think." 'Charlie' nodded. "That's why 'Andrew' is late. Black Lung had instructed us to work over all the old remaining materials after MJ was hacked, and he's bringing a few copycat documents with him for us to decide which to release to the clueless media before our adversaries have that opportunity." At a knock, three heads turned towards the door. Lindhauer let it bounce off the stop, revealing McConnell standing without, a thick black satchel in his hand. 'Charlie' grinned. "I was just filling 'Finn' in on the plan. What do you have?" McConnell plopped the bag into a leather armchair. "Well, we can choose from evacuation plans in the case of either nuclear attack, thousand-year floods, or, and this is clever, massive simultaneous west and east coast earthquakes. All are written to be nearly identical to the real report." When 'Ace' began laughing, 'Charlie' smiled at the sound. "What's so funny?" She grinned back. "Oh, I think we should go for the simultaneous earthquake scenario." The three men focused on her, but it was 'Charlie' who took a seat close beside her, leaning back to accommodate his expansive belly. "Why?" She shifted over to reestablish her own space. "Because it might actually make the East Coast take the threat of a major earthquake seriously. We're overdue, you know." Lindhauer stood in front of her, sucking in his stomach to swell his chest. "You mean it's not a joke?" Oblivious to 'Charlie's' disapproving glance, McConnell settled on her free side. "Not at all. We were taught the best way to hide the truth is among a pack of lies, and if we use the earthquake, then there is truth either way. The East Coast suffers from magnitude eights about every one hundred years, the last having happened in Charleston, South Carolina just before the turn of the century." 'Ace' nodded. "So, it is a legitimate concern, but the media are all such idiots, they'll start interviewing different experts, and write up conflicting stories, all of which will camouflage the report if the FBI does let it go." 'Charlie' slid over closer to her. "Besides, nuclear holocaust isn't much of a threat anymore, and no one worries about flooding in February. But earthquakes will catch everyone's attention. So, we are agreed then, we release this," he summarized, holding up the report, "and preempt whatever Mulder and Scully do, rather than wait for damage control." 'Ace''s brown curls and McConnell's red ones bobbed. Lindhauer wanted to hold onto whatever leadership he still possessed over the group. "I'll take it to a reporter friend of mine. She's been plying me for some good secret information for a couple of months now." He snorted. He held the door as the others left his row house, McConnell giving him a significant stare as 'Charlie' patted 'Ace' on the back. --o-0-o-- Lone Gunmen's Office Alexandria, Virginia Saturday, February 1, 1997 2:42 am Mulder stopped relentlessly changing channels as his partner slid onto the couch beside him. Seeing her rubbing her eyes, he reached over to grasp her shoulder momentarily. She smiled slightly at him. "Thanks. Byers is done with the report, and we've uploaded the page images to an encrypted file. I really don't know whether we should publish this on the Net or not, Mulder." Most of the past few hours he had been contemplating this exact problem, so he dropped the remote on the cushion. "I been debating that myself, Scully. The Shadows were caught totally off-guard when we threw the D'Amato papers up on the Web, but they've had nearly a entire year to recoup their losses. Even this new group probably expects us to make a similar move, so they've no doubt developed a discrediting strategy that will make us, Skinner, and Matheson look like fools if we do." She tucked her feet under her hips, rubbing her arms to warm them. "Whatever they come up with, you know it will be better than the old weather balloon story." "Right." He studied her face. "What?" She passed him the print-out she had carried in with her and dropped on the couch at her side. "It's this map, Mulder. Whenever I read the list of towns on the Northeast route, I think I remember them, in that order, being called out." He slid closer to her, his finger running along a triple-thickness black line. "As if you were on a train?" She nodded. "I've never taken a passenger train, except for that one time last year with you, so all I can think is that I *was* transported along that route for part of those three months I was missing." Her body clock was revolting against the lateness of the hour and her out of sync sleep schedule, so she yawned again. When her eyes focused on her partner, he had leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees, the map dangling between two fingers. He was frowning at the infomercial spokesman, who was gibbering silently as he waved a wok over a gas burner. Mulder was deep in thought, she knew, not contemplating the 1-800 number on the bottom of the screen, so she touched his arm. He turned to her, passing her the map. "Scully, I know you probably won't think this is a good idea, but I'd like to hypnotize you." She plopped against the upright bolsters, resting her head horizontally on the sofa. "Why? I've been to a professional hypnotherapist, and learned nothing from it." He punched the power button, and the screen faded to black. "I know, but at the time, you were rested and didn't really trust the man, did you?" As she nodded, he threw both arms over the back of the couch. "A hypnotic memory block, such as they gave you, feeds on your strength. The stronger you are, the more secure the block. The weaker, the less. Since you've been remembering in your sleep again for more than two months, it means it is beginning to fail. Right now your circadian rhythms are off, so we might be able to reach through it and bring out some of the memories they stole from you." She rolled her head back and forth on the upholstery. She had not taken the time earlier to shape her hair into professional stiffness, so the loose strands curled in waves. "But, when they worked on you, they gave you drugs, Mulder, and you haven't been able to remember anything you saw at Ellens. Owch!" Since one fiery lock had caught on a zipper tab in the cushion cover, he shifted in place, needing both hands to gently work it free. "Right. They've sealed those few hours off as if they never happened. However, it's likely they didn't give you anything chemical simply because it would have messed up the tests they wanted to perform on you. You've had both nightmares and flashbacks, so I think we have a chance here, if we approach the subject properly. What do you remember from your session with Dr. Pomerantz?" She shrugged. "Only that I was so alone, and that there was no one I could trust, even though they kept telling me it would be all right, and that I could trust them." She sighed. "Sorry." He waved his hand. "No, no, that's all right. If multiple regressions contribute to the creation of false memories, then it's good you didn't recall anything then. It means whatever you remember will be uncontaminated by his suggestions, and it's why I've tried to just listen when you have nightmares." "Between what you've said in your sleep, and the medical evidence from your surgery, I think we have a good idea of some of the procedures they performed on you. Are you willing to give this a try?" He waited, his expression supportive, anxious, and eager, but uniquely Mulder. Scully found herself smiling. "What do we have to lose? Likely as not it will be just a waste of time." He blew out a breath. "Okay, let me talk to the guys. We'll need to close ourselves off for a while." He stepped into the room where the Gunmen were still working. Byers was tapping the screen. "No, Langly, we should add another encryption layer just in case we're hacked again. Right, Frohike?" While the little man nodded, Langly's long hair swished, the motion forcing him to reach up and hold his damaged glasses. "We need to move the binaries to a different file structure, so it becomes total garbage if addressed improperly. Even with the encoding, we should swap bytes, then reencrypt on the Alpha, rather than the Mac. Oh, hey, Mulder." "Is there a room upstairs Scully and I can use for a while?" He frowned at the total silence from his three friends. He rolled his eyes. "The report has triggered some vague memories, so I'd like to try regressing her to get back to her abduction." Frohike grinned. "Had us going there for a minute, Mulder. Yeah, our library should be just the place. It's small and you can set up a couple of chairs." He jerked his head in the direction of the flight of stairs. "At the top and straight back." He looked down at Mulder's shoulder as Scully's face appeared beside him. "Good Luck. I hope you learn something." The two turned and headed to the upper level, their feet pounding out random thumps as they ascended. --o-0-o-- Old Town, Alexandria Saturday, 3:03 am X watched as the light faded from the third floor window. He had to give the Gang of Four credit; they had learned well. One of the fake documents was now in place, so Mulder and Scully could not pull a repeat of last year's surprise. He spun to begin walking down to the Potomac waterfront. As he listened to the soft lapping of the water against the docks and walls, he considered his own position. His old superior was supposedly dead, shot on New Year's Eve. Or was he? It had not been the Gunmen who had been tailing the Gang earlier, even though *they* had thought so, and had set Luther's clowns after them. X walked on, buttoning the wool long coat up to his neck. Out of long habit, he glanced over his shoulder, looking for movement in the darkness, a black on black figure slipping behind him. His shadow was keeping his distance, the amorphous shape molding to the hollows in the wood and stone. He had always believed in the rightness of the Cause, and had even let himself be tested. Proudly, he had given sample after sample of his gametes once his genetic ancestry had been traced to the Masai. As he thought of those tall warriors, he smiled. Yes, they would beat their enemies back, with the resources that had always been available to the human race, brains and hands, as manifested in knowledge and technology. He checked again. However, the last time he had been tested, six years ago, the DNA had shown an abnormality, and he had been asked for no further samples. It was after that he had begun to see the hovering figure behind him, an image from a nightmare given horrible manifestation. Sometimes he saw a face in the shape, and it was always that of one of the great enslavers of humanity, Stalin, Idi Amin, or Rhodes. When the old man Mulder referred to as "Deep Throat" had told him of the FBI Agent's beliefs, X had begun to follow his career, secretly at first. But when Scully had been sent to the Basement, and the Smoking Man had made tracking Mulder his assignment, he had found himself acting as the partners' protector. He wanted to help the X-Files agents in their search, so that they could continue to find answers. A delivery truck waited for him to cross the street, and the crouching thing behind him was gone. He had seen it too many times, in the day, the night, when he was jogging, and when he was walking down the streets of the District, for him to think it just a figment of his imagination. It was good that he had the foresight to spare Charles Scully's life; otherwise, the man's sister would have become his implacable enemy. As close as the two agents were, to injure one was to damage the other, and by sparing her further pain, perhaps he could one day bring the thing behind him to their attention. --o-0-o-- END - PASSAGES IN MEMORY - INVENTORY