Chapter 15: Night Vision

4:00 p.m., The Condo

The condo was two stories. On the top floor, three bedrooms, one reasonably spacious, two quite small. The bottom floor had a modest living room which was only distinct from the dining room in that the living room was carpeted and the dining room was not. The kitchen was small, but airy and efficient, a little counter separating it from the dining area. A little balcony upstairs off the master bedroom hung over a large patio. Scully had found the laundry facilities off of the patio, but with the relentlessly moderate temperature and excessive sunshine she’d grown used to living in San Diego in her childhood, she didn’t think doing laundry on the patio would really be a hardship. And the small hot tub sitting on the concrete, framed by high fences all around, was definitely a plus. It was pretty and bright, but very plain.

By the time Mulder and Scully had arrived, all the furniture was in, they had bookshelves going up in both small bedrooms, but no desks. A table and chairs in the dining area, the sectional separating the living room from the dining area, an entertainment center, but no television. The bedroom actually had a bit of floorspace once the bed was in it, and both dressers, but it was not expansive, and there were no nightstands. After Krycek and Langly left in the van, Mulder, Skinner and Scully took the moving truck over to the nearby mall to pick up the missing pieces. Skinner offered to sit in back, but Scully just climbed in and sat in the middle of the front seat.

“I feel like we’re going to be shopping for weeks, and then, poof, we’ll leave it all behind,” said Scully, as they drove away from the condo.

Skinner laughed. “Which would be terrible if you were having to pay for everything out of your salary... but I don’t think that whoever owns this place is going to have much difficulty renting it furnished, here.”

“I still can’t get my mind around it.” Mulder cranked the passenger window open, and rested his elbow. “Krycek, all those kids... You guys here.” He put his other arm around Scully’s shoulders, and she scooted a little closer.

Skinner said, “I still can’t believe you guys got married. That must been one hell of a road trip.” A moment later, he asked no one in particular, “How the hell is that going to work when you get back? I may well need to reassign one of you...”

Scully looked up at Mulder. “We’ll worry about that when this is over. Depending on what happens in the next few weeks... I suspect, if necessary you will find some other intrepid souls to take it on.”

Mulder gazed out the window. Finally he said, “I think if we are successful, the X-files will be the least of our concerns. Aliens or no aliens.”

Skinner pondered how to say what he was going to say next. He finally just said, “The evidence thus far seems to be making aliens seem more and more plausible.” He took a deep breath, let it out, then said, “Krycek gave us a...convincing explanation about what has been happening, and why.”

Scully shook her head, “And you believed him?”

Skinner frowned. “I will never pretend that I think he’s telling the whole truth. I’m not sure he’s capable of telling the whole truth. But most of his lies that I know about have been lies of omission or interpretation. The truth he tells seems to have more to do with what he rationalizes than what actually happens. That said, he has trusted us in ways that lead me to believe that whatever other motives he has, when it comes down to it, he doesn’t want the Syndicate to achieve their primary goal any more than we do.”

“What did he say that goal is?” Mulder asked.

“To save their sorry asses when the revolution comes. In this case, by working with alien entities to pave the way for a colonizing force.” Skinner laughed. “I know. It’s crazy. But it explains... almost everything. The faceless men, the ones who burned the abductees on the bridge, according to Krycek they seem to be rebels, trying to prevent the colonization of Earth.” His face grew more serious. “Your children... have been part of the attempt to help colonization along. Which is why Krycek thinks they may be in grave danger.”

Skinner parked the truck, but none of them moved to get out. Scully stared at the interior of the truck roof. Finally she said, “Assuming this is true, it seems ironic to be wanting to protect what the rebels want to destroy. But how could I not?” *Can I look in the face of another child and let him die?*

Mulder blinked hard, leaned over, rested his lips against her hair. He closed his eyes. “We will do the best we can. Until we find them, and know exactly what they’re doing to them... we just have no idea how to proceed.”

She turned toward him, reached her hand up to his neck, leaned into him.

Skinner watched them for a minute, then said, gently, “When you two are done with that, we should probably get in there and pick up the stuff you need before the place closes.”

They broke apart abruptly, slightly embarrassed, and Mulder popped the door open. He hopped down, then reached a hand up for Scully, who ignored him and stepped out without trouble. She gave him a small smile, then headed into the store.

Mulder was about to follow when Skinner caught his elbow. Once the doors had closed behind Scully, Skinner said under his breath, “I hope you know what you’re doing. And I hope you’re taking it as seriously as she must be. Can you tell me why it became so urgent?”

Mulder laughed, and answered quietly, “It was my idea.” He closed his eyes, sighed. “I really didn’t want to be something she would have to confess to later.”

Skinner shook his head, chuckling. “That is a damnfool reason to get married.”

A flash of annoyance, then Mulder said, “Yes, but it’s an excellent excuse.” He smiled. “The reason... Is falling in love with her for five and a half years enough? Thinking about the future, I just couldn’t imagine being with anyone else.”

He was surprised when Skinner clapped him on the back and gave him a one-armed hug. “Just take care of yourself. For her sake as much as yours. And if you hurt her, I’ll personally find you and kick your ass.”

Mulder laughed, then looked at Skinner with a bemused expression. “Why, Walter, I didn’t know you cared.”

Skinner stepped up onto the curb and put his hand on the store entrance, then paused and looked back at Mulder. “Then you’re a hell of a lot dumber than you look. Do you really think I’d go a week without shaving and take a cross country road trip with the Three Stooges and Boris if I didn’t give a damn about both of you?”

Mulder gave Skinner his cheekiest grin, and said, “I think I’d pay to see that movie.”

Scully pulled the door open from the inside, and asked with a tinge of annoyance, “Are you guys coming?”

~~~

4:30 p.m. Calderon’s Lab

This time, when Krycek keyed himself in the front door of Calderon’s lab, the doctor was standing by the guard’s desk, fidgeting. He handed Krycek a disk, and said, “It’s all on there, Entropy encryption.” Then he looked around like someone might jump out from under the carpet, and whispered, “Is it true?”

Krycek gave an ambiguous half-nod.

If Calderon had been human, he would have been sweating. But he just seemed to twitch a little around the edge, as he leaned close, and said, “I’m trying to decide when to enact the contingency plan.”

Krycek raised his eyebrows. *Tread carefully.* “I understand there is more than one plan in place. How about you tell me what you’re thinking about doing, and I’ll tell you if it’s time or not.”

The doctor looked frightened. “More than one? But...”

Krycek reached out, put his hand on the clone’s elbow. “I’ve been apprised of several. I need to know which one they shared with you.”

He handed Calderon’s disk to Langly. “If you would go get that ready for me?”

Langly took the disk, trying not to look confused, and went back to the car.

The doctor looked at the security guard, then led Krycek back, through the lab and into a dark room filled with metal doors. A dull roar from large ventilation fans filled the space. The doctor said, “The plan I’ve been told is to retrieve the experiments from their caregivers, bring them here, and eliminate any who are unlikely to fulfill the experiment. If I am not instructed otherwise, I am to eliminate the rest after 3 days. Normally I wouldn’t do that without an express order, but I heard...”

“What did you hear?” Krycek asked, dripping impatience

“I heard that the others have come. The enemy. That they are burning everyone and everything in their path.”

Krycek sighed. “As far as I know, you are not in their path. But if you hear any more rumors, you need to call me. I will let you know when it is time to enact that contingency plan.” He paused. “By the way, we may need to make a very quiet exit from this project. Do you have a method of reverting the experiments to normal humans, should my associates decide that extreme measures would be too--shall we say---dramatic?” *Dance softly.*

The doctor frowned. “I hadn’t thought about it... the death rate has been high. There are not many experimental subjects who have survived thus far. We do have a number ripening now, but we are weeks to months away from having new ones to work with.”

Krycek snapped, “Your high death rate has started to call unwanted attention to the project. I want you to spend some time in the next few days thinking about just how you might extricate us from this... potential publicity... without further damage. If I am reading the situation correctly, from what I’ve read so far, you will need to keep your options open.”

“It would be complex. We work very hard to change their cells, their bodies to survive and incorporate the new material. So many failures... I thought we were getting somewhere with our first subject in the DS line, 38 months and progress, but treatment was stopped at such a bad time. We have to fight so hard to reach that balance, where alien and human can coexist. But throw that off, even a few treatments, and the new material grows like a cancer, out of balance, a parasite rather than a symbiote, and the resultant disarray in the subject’s thermoregulation and immune system... the results are usually fatal. I call it xenoplasmosis: tissue infection and inflammation from the more powerful extraterrestrial material. To reverse what we have done... It is easier to add material in than take it out.” Calderon stopped. “I don’t understand why they would want to stop it?”

“We have other research avenues which may prove more fruitful, and there has been discussion of needing your cohort’s talents elsewhere. We still need secrecy, and having a larger number of death right now would be... rather inconvenient to our attempts to cover up the truth. I happen to know that some very persistent people have latched onto your project as a turning point for their efforts to expose the conspiracy. It would appear that our best way to discredit them, at this juncture, would be to make them look like fools when they connect the dots between your little urchins.”

The doctor looked at one of the doors. “I might have an idea about that, but I’m not sure...” He through the dark room, to the opposite end, and pulled a pair of heavy gloves off a hook on the wall. When he pulled the door he’d been looking at open, Krycek shivered. The doctor apologized. “I’m sorry, we have to keep this room at cryo temperatures.”

He reached up onto a high shelf, and brought down a little rack holding a series of metal tubes, each about a half centimeter across.

He pulled two of the tubes out of the rack, leaving about 20 behind, and then backed out of the freezer. “These are samples of the base protein. If I can link the counterpart to this protein molecule here to a molecular probe...” The doctor smiled. “Yes, see, what we do... we can’t make a direct link, chromosome to chromosome, because there’s a different base pair involved. Do you know what mitochondria are?”

Krycek thought he did, but gestured for the man to continue. “Mitochondria are the energy factories of the cell. They’re symbiotic, have their own DNA, but their function is inextricably linked to the function of the rest of the cell. There are a number of complex processes which happen there, which convert the air humans breathe and the food they eat into energy. They are a fundamental part of how humans convert oxygen into something their cells can use. We are creating something that is essentially an augmentation of that system, a new symbiotic structure with alien DNA, while simultaneously working to create a secondary immune system. Theoretically, if we get it right, the subject will be able to heal very quickly, to avoid illness, and to tolerate a variety of atmospheric changes. But these kinds of changes... if the immune changes happen too fast, the mitochondrial adjustments can’t happen, and the secondary immune system produces toxins that the body just can’t handle. If the mitochondrial adjustments go wrong at all, stray active protein molecules and branched DNA wreak havoc on the developing cells. We have to use the secondary immune system to disable one part of the primary immune system, and the body does not like that change, and we’ll see a cascade of failures. Just when we think we’ve got it right, we run into random chance mutations that throw everything out of whack.

“That’s why we have to 100 eggs to get three term pregnancies, and why fully half of the pregnancies that come to term produce subjects that cannot survive outside the womb. The combination of immune and genetic effects has caused many cancers, we even had one subject whose native immune system would not tolerate the fluid we use to carry our molecular probes, and died of anaphylaxis. We’ve been quadding every embryo in hopes that when we have a success, we can duplicate our results, but thus far, we only have half a dozen subjects who’ve survived to the age of three years, and we’ve had several die even at that point.

“I’ve destroyed most of the embryos whose siblings have died, except in cases where the death seemed avoidable, where the subjects managed to survive for at least two years. I’m planning on starting those lines over. It may well be that this is easier to do with adults, simply because they are not at such a fragile state of development, but for obvious reasons, the sentimental among our associates would like a protocol for allowing their offspring to live. As far as I know, the adult process still destroys fertility in the subjects, part of the reason our associates have been harvesting their gametes first before attempting the hybridization treatements. We had a string of relative successes with one process last year, and I’m hoping to be able to apply that research to our most promising embryo line. The advantage of working with fetuses is that we can create bigger effects with smaller causes.”

Krycek asked. “Quadding?”

The doctor nodded. “Simple, really. Primitive technology. After fertilization, once the zygote reaches 8 cells, we chemically strip the zona pellucida, divide the cells into two-cell clusters, separate them and provide a synthetic zona pellucida. Soon, we have four embryos. It is a good way to make sure that if something exogenous to the organism causes a problem in an otherwise promising situation, we can start over. It’s in my report.”

Krycek nodded. “At this juncture it would be unwise for you to implant any more embryos. Do not destroy the ones you have, they may prove useful at a later date. But I would recommend that you take steps to reduce the ability of the enemy to follow the trail, should we be unable to complete one of the contingency plans in time. Do take some time to look at the alternative my associates have requested. Call me if you find a possible solution.”

“Should I assume that I should NOT test the solution on his pet line?”

Krycek nodded. “I’m sure you have some other... less politically charged option for your tests. He favored that line for reasons which are still valid, even if he’s out of the picture. You do have others.”

“Definitely. In fact, there is one subject who appears to be starting on a path which has often led to xenoplasmosis in the past. She would be an ideal candidate. She’ll die anyway if we don’t. Mostly, they all do.” The doctor did not seem terribly perturbed by this.

“By the way... the promising embryos you mentioned...”

“One is in that line, yes. She was one of our first to live past a year, and I had high hopes for her until her caregiver interfered. I understand that he had them taken care of, but it was too late by then. I would have been terribly upset if we had not had a backup.”

Krycek found himself shuddering, and rubbed his arms to pretend it was just cold. It surprised him, really. But he supposed that even he had his limits, and this doctor who seemed to see human children as interchangeable lab rats... *Going soft. Dammit. Just keep the man talking.* He asked, casually, “So do you keep your embryos and gametes at the same location?”

The doctor nodded. “Easier that way. Nothing strange in that lab about putting two and two together, or freezing the result.”

*Idiot. Putting your eggs in a basket.* “That does sound convenient. Are the other facilities working with the same germ lines?”

The doctor nodded. “Some of them. There are two other projects working with one of our pairings. His pet pairing, in fact. I asked him about it, he just said something about not putting all his eggs in one basket.”

“Do you know which facilities?” Krycek asked.

“No, he wouldn’t tell me. I did ask. Thought he was going to skewer me right then and there. He said that if I knew, there wouldn’t be any point.” Calderon frowned a little at the memory. “Should I use the same number to reach you?”

Krycek nodded. “Is there anything else you think I should know, for my evaluation?”

The doctor looked down at the thick gloves he was wearing. “Oh, yes. This protein. I think that if I can create a binding molecule, I can “tag” all examples of this particular protein, then release molecular probes to find and dismantle the structures based on it. It would be impossible, except that the molecular structure of the changes we make is so unique. I am not certain how well the subjects will tolerate the massive systemic change, but since a few of our subjects who are still alive are ailing, there’s no real disadvantage to trying it on them. I do hope I can continue with my original research, though. We were so close.”

Krycek forced a smile. “I hope your research bears good fruit, Doctor. I appreciate your thoroughness. May I take a sample of the protein for my staff?”

The doctor nodded. “But you should really take a molecular probe unit. The protein won’t be any good without it, and the technology is not widespread.”

Calderon led Krycek to the lab, where he assembled a cooler filled with components, then put dry ice in. “The protein isn’t as fragile as human ova, but you should get that into a 0 degree freezer in the next 24 hours if you want to be able to work with it longer than a week. I’m including a disk with instructions for the probes. Keep them cool too, it’s heat that helps activate them.”

“Before I forget,” Krycek said, “Do you have a secure phone and a private room?”

The doctor looked worried.

Krycek smiled. “I just need to let my superior know how very helpful you’ve been.”

Calderon relaxed, nodded, and said, “I believe the guard can help you.”

~~~

6:21 p.m.

Langly was frowning at the screen of a laptop when Krycek finally climbed into the car. “I haven’t been able to break the encryption yet.”

“Let me try,” Krycek said.

After about 5 minutes of pecking in long alphanumeric sequences, he handed the thing back to Langly.

“Please tell me that you already had the key....” Langly said.

“Yes, I did. Had to call an associate to get it, but once you understand the basic concept, it’s not too hard to remember.” Krycek smiled.

“Did you get more information? You were gone a long time...” Langly was starting to read the encrypted file.

“Like taking candy from a baby. Or in this case, taking terrifyingly advanced technology from one of the most frighteningly callous individuals I’ve ever met.” Krycek pointed to the back seat. “Think we can get that iced tonight?”

Langly frowned. “You think he’s callous and frightening? That’s.... that’s unnerving.”

Krycek shook his head. “Just take us back already. Scully is going to need to take a look at that stuff.”

He looked at his prosthesis. “You know, he never once referred to them as children or babies. Always subjects. I don’t think that they or their parents meant anything to him at all. I’m not sentimental, but when I’ve killed, I’ve known I was killing a person.”

Langly glanced at Krycek, surprised. “You keep that up, the Blue Fairy is going to turn you into a real boy.”

Krycek ignored that, and Langly drove them back to get the van.

~~~

7:00 p.m. The Condo

Langly backed the van almost up to the door. It was almost completely dark, so Krycek dared the dash to the condo door. Inside, they found Skinner, Frohike, and Byers on one side of the sectional, Scully curled up against Mulder on the other side of the sectional. A movie was playing on a 27 inch television (although everyone seemed to be ignoring it), several open pizza boxes were spread across the new coffee table, and a small forest of empty beer bottles seemed to have sprouted from two end tables.

Skinner was laughing, and Byers looked vaguely scandalized.

Langly grinned. “What did we miss?” He sat down in the corner of the sectional.

Frohike pointed. “He... Martin... Was telling us about how he sweet-talked the priest into ‘renewing their vows.’”

Skinner shook his head. “That man could sell snow to an Eskimo if he thought the guy was too hot.”

Langly said, “Is that wise? Talking about that, here?”

Frohike shrugged. “I’ve been over every single inch of this place today, inside, outside, had a scope in the wall even. That,” he said, pointing at the television, “is putting out a significant amount of white noise. I can’t guarantee the safety of this place tomorrow, but right now, it’s as clean as I can make it.”

Krycek set the cooler down among the pizza boxes. “Thought you might want to see what my crack investigative skills turned up.”

Scully unfolded herself and put her feet on the floor, leaning forward to look.

Mulder leaned after her, and fell over on the couch behind her. He looked not unhappy with that perspective, and didn’t bother getting back up. He just wrapped an arm around her waist while she opened the cooler.

“What is it?” she asked, pointing at the metal vial.

“Well, I’m hoping it’s something you can work with. It’s a protein, the good doctor thought it could be used to create something he called a binding marker. That other thing there is a kit that he said could control molecular probes.” Krycek kept his voice mild.

“Molecular probes. What? Nanobots?” Frohike asked.

Krycek shrugged. “Something like that. Nanobots, Nanites, whatever you want to call them.”

Scully frowned. “That’s years ahead of where we are right now.”

“It’s not from us,” Krycek said. “And the sooner you get over the idea that we are the be-all and end-all of technology on the planet, the easier this is going to be. It’s Ay-lee-in. And it’s what you need to remove the alien structures Doctor C has been inserting into your kids’ cells. He said he included instructions. Oh, and the good doctor dropped another little bombshell. Do you know what quadding is, in context of embryo manipulation?”

She nodded. “It’s like artificial twinning, only more so. They divide the cells and create identical embryos. Identical twins, essentially. Of the cloning techniques currently in use, it’s the one that is successful the most, because you don’t lose telomeres to the same degree you would if you tried taking adult somatic cell nuclei and moving them to an egg. But human cloning...” She shook her head.

Krycek nodded. “Well, apparently he was not terribly upset when they lost one of their most promising subjects earlier this year. Because whenever they make an embryo, they quad it. So he was getting ready to take the extra embryos out of cold storage and develop them with the new and improved process. Apparently he was fine with losing his subject because he had a replacement.”

She closed her eyes, rocked back as Mulder sat up and caught her.

Mulder, furious, said, “You can’t replace a child. Even a clone... an exact replica is not going to be a replacement, but a twinned sibling. It can’t bring Emily back.”

“I know that. And you know that. But the doctor is not human. Hell, he’s a clone himself, and they seem to view themselves as mostly interchangeable. And he looks at his project with a level of scientific detachment that even I find repellent. But what it does tell us is that if you can access and remove the genetic material, you will not only be recovering ova and sperm cells, you will be recovering embryos. If my math is right, he’s still got twelve embryos frozen, at least. And they’re embryos we know managed to implant before.”

Scully opened her eyes. “Just because they implanted fresh doesn’t mean they’ll do it frozen.”

Krycek shrugged. “It’s better than nothing if you want a baby that bad.”

She blinked, bit her lip and willed the angry tears to not spill. “Krycek, I appreciate what you’ve been doing. But my desire for children is not what this is about right now. You helped them rape me medically, and I don’t care if it was your job, it was still you, and if and when we sort this out, you haven’t betrayed us, again, I might, maybe start thinking about forgiveness.”

She took a deep breath, trembling. “I just found out that because of what happened to me, what you helped them do to me, 27 of my possible children have been born and died, without my ever getting to touch or know them. I just found out I have two children on the way I may never get to meet, a little boy that the system may decide I can’t have, all of them sick, and I’m just not ready to have you give me advice about what I should and shouldn’t want.”

She continued, “You say you want to fight the aliens, that you want to fight the syndicate. You appear to want to help us. Right at this moment, you are going to have to understand that the fact that I’m not putting a gun to your head right now is about as close as I can get to being friendly. Have some pizza. But shut up about me wanting a baby.” She stood up, closed the cooler. Then said, much calmer, “How long do I have before this has to be at nitrogen temps?”

“Not nitrogen. Zero degrees is fine, and the freezer here is fine overnight.” Krycek responded automatically to the question, picked up a piece of pizza. He seemed to have ignored the rest of her outburst.

“Thank you,” she said, and took the cooler to the kitchen.

Mulder looked at Krycek. “Is there anything else?”

Krycek shrugged, chewing his pizza. He swallowed, then said, “I need to open the files so you can read them. Other than that, no.”

Langly opened the laptop, hooked a card reader into it, and then pushed the whole shebang at Krycek. “Do it. Copy the unencrypted files out to a memory card.”

Pinching the crust of his pizza with his artificial hand, Krycek started typing.

After a few minutes, Skinner nudged Mulder, looked over at the kitchen. Mulder frowned, then realization dawned, and he went to find Scully.

~~~

Scully leaned against the edge of the hot tub, standing on the patio, head down, gripping the cover to the hot tub as if it was the only thing keeping her upright. At first, Mulder thought she might be crying, but when he bent over to look, her eyes were just closed, no tears.

“‘Sup?” he asked, quietly.

She brought her head up slowly, a half smile not quite masking the tension around her eyes. “Just needed a little space in my head. Fucking Krycek.” She answered just loud enough that he could hear her.

He snorted. “I hope not.”

She rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. I just... I can’t get my mind around him. He’s handing this to us on a silver platter, and that scares me.”

Mulder sat down next to her. “If you were happy to see him, I’d be checking you for injection sites.”

“I just... I’m supposed to hear everything he’s telling me, and then go to work? I’m supposed to carry on with this ruse and go pretend to want to adopt, when I’m pretty damn sure that the children I’m trying to adopt are my own? I just don’t know if I can go make nice with the neighbors. I just...” She shook her head, looked down again, pulled her volume back down. “I don’t know how to pretend I’m not reeling.”

“I know you.” He reached over, put his left hand over her right. “I know that you’ve always managed to do what you need to do, when you need to do it, come hell or high water or bad men with guns. I know this is hard. It’s hard for me and I can’t even imagine how hard this must be for you right now. But the one thing I do know is that you are not alone in this, and that there will be a time for us to rage... but that we both will do what we need to do in order to get this job done.”

She turned, stood, and he reached for her. She buried her face in his chest, arms curled, and he put a hand up against her neck.

After a few minutes, the sliding door shifted, and Skinner poked his head out. “You two okay?”

She stepped back reflexively, then relaxed back against Mulder.

Mulder said, quietly, “I’m not sure ‘okay’ is in the vocabulary right now. But we’re... dealing. You?”

Skinner stepped onto the patio, closed the door. “My beard itches. And that man in there keeps dropping bombshells that are hurting people I care about, and I can’t even shoot him to make myself feel better. On the other hand, I haven’t had to sign a form in over a week, so there is an upside.” Skinner looked at them, smiled a little. “Then again, with all this crap that keeps happening, if it had to happen, better it be when you two can be there for each other this way... it could be worse.”

Scully looked up at Mulder, then leaned against him again. “Yes, it really could. That’s... terrifying.”

Suddenly three faces appeared behind Skinner. “We partyin’ in the hot tub?” asked Frohike.

Langly noticed Mulder and Scully, and said, “Awwww.”

Byers elbowed both of them. “Let’s give them their moment. Do we have anything else that needs doing?”

Frohike held up a slice of pizza. Langly held up a beer.

Skinner looked at them, then back at Mulder and Scully, then said, “You three get packed up. We’re going to leave these two in peace.”

A few minutes later, they followed Skinner and the Gunmen back in.

Krycek looked up from the laptop. “Done.”

Langly pulled the memory card out of the reader, handed it to Scully. “Careful with that. It’s one of those things you really don’t want Them finding.”

She nodded. “Thank you.”

Mulder said, “Well, guys, it’s been good, but I think you’ll understand if we need a little time.” He looked pointedly at the door.

“Right.” Skinner picked up pizza boxes and carried them over to the kitchen. “Pack ‘em up boys.”

A few minutes later, Mulder and Scully stood in the front door, watching as the van and the truck pulled away. She looked up at him. “I can’t believe they came all this way.”

He chuckled. “Actually, I don’t even really think I’m that surprised. But I’m awfully glad they’re here.”

~~~

9 p.m.

The empty beer bottles were in a paper bag next to the counter. An enormous stack of flattened cardboard boxes covered the surface of the dining room table. Mulder had gone upstairs, to browse the bookshelves in the little room they’d dubbed his office.

Scully sat on the couch downstairs, staring into space. She closed her eyes. *A son.*

She flashed to a little girl, sweaty and dying in her arms.

*A son. Twenty seven didn’t make it. You have a son. YOU have a son. Twenty seven children dead.*

Her eyes opened. She leaned back against the couch, pushed her hips up, dug in her pocket. Hand on plastic case.

Someone had installed a line of hooks next to the door. The fanny sack hung from it. She pulled it down, unzipped the largest compartment. *I have a son. And twenty seven dead babies.*

She pulled out the MessagePad. Slipped the memory card in. Four files. A database (abridged, the boys had said), with a title that actually read, dontread.db. Three text files, charts.txt, scullyd.txt, and contact.txt.

She opened dontread.db first. *Twenty seven. Can’t think about them but have to know how, why, don’t think about it, just understand. I have a son. Do the fucking autopsy.*

The database was frighteningly concise. And woefully low on descriptors. *Make my children, boil their bones into a single line of data. I want to know their lives. But I don’t want to think about it.*

She found herself tallying. Girls. Boys. Died at birth. Died later. This one lived to age 2... did she talk? Was she happy? How much pain? Her eyes kept flicking to the word “healthy” and the words “in utero.” *What the hell is xenoplasmosis anyway?* The last death date... the day after they left Washington D.C. *Could we have saved her if we’d moved faster?*

*I have a little boy. He’s not quite one. He’s healthy, whatever they consider healthy. He’s in foster care. A teenager is pregnant with my child, and she is almost 8 months along. In 6 weeks, give or take, a baby girl will be born, my child. Mulder’s child. And that little girl has less than a 5% chance of survival, if these are to be believed. Another teenager is pregnant with my child, and she is about 5 months pregnant. She doesn’t know yet if it is a boy or a girl, all she knows is that some white man is paying her to birth a baby for some rich white person. She has no idea that her baby is more likely than not to die. My baby. My babies. I’m an FBI agent. I’m not a mother, but I’m already a mother 28 times over and how could my children die without me feeling it every time? How am I going to save my babies? Do I even have a right to them?*

She couldn’t see the screen anymore. The tears flowed silently, blinding, and she just sat, closed her eyes, and let them. *I have a son. I may have a daughter soon. Another baby too. Three children. And I have a chance to save them. I couldn’t save Emily. How many more will I have to let go?*

She felt hands take the MessagePad away. Felt the cushions of the couch shift as he sat down. Felt him gather her to him. “Shhhh,” he whispered, even though she wasn’t making any noise. Then, so close to her ear, “Breathe, sweet Dana.”

She obeyed, hadn’t realized she’d stopped breathing, but it was obvious when she gasped a sob.

He wrapped himself around her. She realized then that he was crying too. She touched his tears.

She whispered, when her breathing was better under control, “Too many. How could I lose so many and not know?”

He rocked, she wasn’t sure if he was rocking her or himself, and he said, “I didn’t even know she was mine. How could I not recognize my own child?”

She reached up, stroked his hair. Said, “It won’t ever be okay, will it?”

He shook his head. “Not that part of it. It’s too huge. How could it ever possibly be okay? But I do know that I love you. That we have three out there we need to find and protect. And we will find him. We’ll find them.”

She rested her head against his chest. “We’re parents. How did that happen?”

He didn’t quite laugh. “I suppose this is one time when talking about the birds and the bees isn’t going to cut it.”

She looked up at him. “Bees?”

“Right. Forget I said that.” A wry look crossed his face. “You know, when it comes down to it, part of me is glad that he didn’t pick some random stranger. I’m not glad that this monstrosity has been perpetrated on us. But when we come out the other side... they’re our children. And that...simplifies things.”

She looked up at him. “What if Krycek is right? What if that bastard is your father?”

Mulder shook his head. “My father died four years ago. If biologically I am connected to that man, it doesn’t make him anything but a sperm donor. I don’t know. I just thought my mother had more sense. She doesn’t seem like someone who would fall for that kind of vicious.”

He bent down, kissed her, then pulled back. “Salty,” he said, and leaned in to kiss her again.

He felt her smile a little. He sat up. “I think,” he said, “that we need to go see if that bed works.”

They climbed the stairs. When they got to the top step, he scooped her into his arms, “I didn’t get to carry you over the threshold. But I can now.” He wanted it to sound silly, but it came out quiet.

She put her head on his shoulder, let him carry her into the bedroom.

She sat down on the foot of the bed, shifted and pulled off her pants, finally said out loud, “I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel right now.”

He came out of the bathroom in his boxers, toothbrush in mouth. “About what?”

She slipped the elastic off the end of her braid, separated it with her fingers. “My brain can’t hold it all. Married. We have a little boy. We lost so many... Fucking Krycek.” She pulled her shirt off, reached back to unhook her bra.

He ducked back into the bathroom, then reappeared naked, sans toothbrush. “I don’t think there’s a rule book for this. I know I’m feeling confused as hell. Worried. Kinda horny.”

She started laughing weakly. “There is that. I just...” She pushed her hair back with both hands, then sat, knees apart, forehead resting on her palms, elbows on her knees. Her hair spread out in waves over her shoulders and back. “My brain is full,” she said, roughly in the direction of his feet. “I don’t know whether to be happy or sad or amazed or devastated. It’s like some bizarre dream, where Skinner is a lumberjack, Ringo is a MIB, Frohike is Sleazy the dwarf, and Byers... well, the missing beard is odd, but he’s still him. And Krycek. Fucking Krycek grew a soul, or has gotten even more twisted than he ever was, and I don’t know which is scarier. And I’ve got 27 dancing babies in my head and I can’t even imagine their faces.”

“Frohike was always Sleazy the dwarf. If this is a dream, I do know there’s one really good part.”

He climbed into the bed, patted the spot next to him. She looked back at him, turned, and crawled in beside him, snuggled in close to his chest, head on his arm.

He realized a few minutes later, that she’d already fallen asleep. *Beat a hasty retreat. I wish I could.*

He lay awake for a long time, thinking about Emily.

~

Continue to Chapter 16