[The following work is for the distribution and entertainment of EMXC 
members only. Any further distribution of this work without the author's 
consent is in violation of federal law.
   Please contact the EMXC host, Karen Enriquez (XFC SciNut@aol.com), 
if you have recieved this work from anywhere other than the above group 
without the author's permission.]

Provisos:  All the characters mentioned here are property of their
respective creators...I'm just borrowing them for a while.  E-mail me at I
Mulder I@aol.com with any comments or questions...flames will be answered
by Men In Black coming by your house.  Enjoy!

The Brotherhood: Part 1
(recieved 9/30/95)

"Next on Close Sightings: a rash of UFO's in northern Washington D.
C....maybe they've got a better budget package than Congress. After these
messages."  The show's theme music came up as the psuedo anchor busily
shuffled blank sheets of paper on his desk.  All of his copy came from the
teleprompter in the desktop; the paper was just to reassure the viewing
public that he had it all written down, which lent everything the air of
credibility.

"And...we're clear."  The floor director signalled and a flurry of makeup
artists and technicians descended on the set, looking more than a little
like a race-car pit crew.  

Carl Kolchak sat back in his chair as LaDonna, his makeup girl, worked
busily making his face look not too perfect; craggy and  weathered, but
wise and kind.  The craggy and weathered wasn't hard to do.  He'd spent
many years bottom-feeding in journalism because of his penchant for stuff
that even tabloids wouldn't print.  That and Captain Black Jack's Finest
had taken him out of the lineup for a few years.  But the weird, the
strange, the paranormal was making a comeback, and so had Kolchak.  The
producer of "Close Sightings" remembered some of Carl's stuff from the old
days and had insisted on him for the anchor.  Kolchak, who was working as
an editor at a weekly giveaway classified paper, was more than happy for
the opportunity.  It was a perfect marriage of weirdness and cynicism, of
obsession and professional zeal, a marriage maybe not made in heaven, but
certainly otherwordly.  

The set cleared at the thirty second bell.  "We're back in five...four..."
The floor director counted off the last three seconds and pointed to
Carl.  He read his intro to the Washington D. C. UFO piece, and then the
booth rolled the taped report from there.  Kolchak watched with half an
eye; there was enough cocaine in Washington D. C. that he was surprised
they didn't see aliens running the elevators or lobbying.  

A scene blipped across the monitor; the reporter was voice-overing a shot
of UFO's flying in formation over the Washington Memorial, and then over
the Pentagon.  They showed the UFO shot, then cut away to file footage of
the Pentagon taken from an aerial view, as if seen by the alien craft. 
The final shot of UFOs was flying over a building that Kolchak didn't
recognize.  His interest was peaked now...he looked at the monitor
intently.  

"The sightings in Washington D. C. seem to be concetrated on the Pentagon,
the Memorial and the Scottish Rite Masonic Temple, which is the lodge of
the fraternity's leading members."  The shot cut away again, to Shriners
riding their mini-motorcars.  "Perhaps the aliens want to join the
parade....this is Ken Takada, for Close Sightings."  

The director signalled Kolchak through his earpiece.  Carl read his copy,
acting bluff and making inserted disclaimer comments about the story, and
then introducing the next one.  But in his mind, he could only ask: Why
not the White House?  Why the Pentagon?  Why national monuments?  Why
goofy fraternities?

OCTOBER 6
LONE GUNMEN'S OFFICES

Special Agent Fox Mulder stopped at the door and punched in the code on
the keypad--11221963.  The door latch popped quietly.  As he and Scully
stepped inside, a voice came over a speaker in the wall by the door.  

"Hey Mulder...did you bring your juicy partner with you?"  

Scully stepped over to the intercom and tabbed the "Talk" key.  "Yes he
did, Frohicke."  

The intercom was silent for a long moment.  "Sorry, Scully...no offense
intended."

Mulder grinned at Scully.  "You might just get Frohicke through puberty
yet."

Dana rolled her eyes.  "God forbid."

They walked down a hall to a large, dim office.  The Lone Gunmen's
headquarters looked like a Radio Shack, a library, a newsroom, a computer
control center and a bunker, all rolled into one.  Byers was rattling a
keyboard at high speed, leaning into a computer monitor, his face lit up
in the ghost light.  

Mulder stopped behind him, reading over his shoulder.  "Stealing plans for
new technology?"

Byers answered without looking up.  "Nope...arguing with some nitwit who
believes that the new Star Trek is better than the old show."  

"Thanks for coming today, Mulder."  Langly called from across the room and
went to the point.  What they had in technology they lacked in social
graces.  "We've come across something that's your style, and right here in
our own backyard.  What do you know about the UFO / occult connection?"

Scully muttered "Oh God" under her breath.  

Mulder ignored her.  "There are some theories that EBEs are really
supernatural beings, spirit guides, whatever you want to call them.  The
thinking is that all major religions were inspired by aliens, who are
considered gods and worshipped."

"Clarke's Theorem" Frohicke muttered as he worked on a circuit board with
a pair of tweezers and a jeweller's loupe.  

"Cargo cult" was Byers' contribution.  

"Exactly.  But there is one religion that stands outside the traditional
mainstream of religion that has characteristics from all the great
cultures of the world, all of whom base their beliefs on teachings
visitors from above."  Langly clicked a slide projector on; the Scottish
Rite Temple in Washington D. C. appeared on the screen.  "What do you know
about Freemasonry?"

"A bunch of old guys with secret handshakes and funny hats?"  Mulder asked.

"Exactly what they want you to think.  They decieve even their own members
until they reach the 33rd degree, at which point they are initiated to the
true purpose of Masonry--that of bringing light into the world."  Langly
clicked the slide projector again.  A well-known senator's face came up. 
"One of the most powerful men in the Senate is also a 33rd degree Mason. 
He's currently on a fact-finding mission...which is to say he's really
quietly spending time in a posh mental hospital in Southern California. 
The last place he went before his breakdown was to the House of the
Temple...all he can do now is repeat "Them...them...them" and scream
occasionally."  Langly clicked through more slides, each one of a
government official.  "Secretary of State...33rd degree Mason.  Speaker of
the House...Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff...Vice President...the
list goes on.  They're all 33rd degree Masons, and they were all at the
House of the Temple the night the good Senator lost his cookies.  They'd
been meeting there every night for a week...and they've continued meeting
there nightly since."

Mulder leaned back in his chair.  "Maybe they're planning a spaghetti
supper."

"Nope...that's the Knights of Columbus."  Langly said, without breaking
stride.  The other gunmen snorted laughter without looking up.  "You've no
doubt noticed the upswing in UFO activity over the fair city.  It seems to
be centered around three places:  the Pentagon, the Washington Memorial
and the Scottish Rite House of the Temple."

Scully spoke up.  "So you're saying that America is controlled by
Freemasons, and now they're using UFOs to do the job?"  

Langly put his clicker down.  "Do you have a dollar bill?"

Dana dug in her purse.  "These demonstrations are sure expensive."  She
handed him a one.  

Langly held it up by the ends, front forward, like a magician about to do
a trick.  "Who is on the front of the bill, Agent Scully?"

"George Washington.  Everybody knows that."  This got another snort from
the Gunmen.  She looked at Mulder, who grinned and shrugged his
shoulders.  

"That's what they want you to think.  This is actually a portrait of Adam
Weishaupt, founder of the Bavarian Illuminati, a deep Masonic organization
that was probably responsible for the founding of the United States of
America."  Langly flipped the bill over, back side facing out.  "See the
symbols?  The all-seeing eye?  Very old Masonic symbol...and the Latin
text: Novus Ordo Seclorum.  It means 'New World Order', which is what the
Masons have been planning for centuries.  They needed an place of almost
inexhaustible wealth to achieve that goal, and they found America...the
New World."  

"Okay, so the guys that sponsor Cub Scout packs are really trying to take
the world over, and now they're using UFOs?"  Mulder asked, with a rare
note of skepticism in his voice.

Langly handed Scully's single back.  "Have you ever wondered why they want
to unify the world, Mulder?  They want the world as one so they can hand it
over to the aliens."  

Scully coughed.  "I'll meet you in the car, Mulder."  She left down the
hall.

Langly went on, undisturbed.  "Think of the Masons as middle management, a
kind of regency of the planet.  They control the world for their true
superiors, the EBEs.  Think of the implications for them.  We believe
they've been summoning the aliens through some sort of ritual.  If that's
true, then that is conclusive proof of contact with other life forms, and
they know how to do it, and can do it at will.  This is bigger than
anything, Mulder."

Mulder stared, quiet for a minute.  "So guys in aprons can contact aliens
when we can't do it with the best satellite technology ever?"

Byers spoke up, leaving the computer for a minute and joining the
conversation.  "Maybe they're ignoring the signals because they know whose
contact to respond to."

"So you think that if I break into a middle-aged frat house, I'll find out
where the aliens are coming from and why they're here?"

"That's pretty much it.  We thought you'd like it."  Langly turned off the
slide projector, taking the room from dimly lit to murky dimness.  

Mulder sat for a minute, contemplating.  "Scully's gonna love this one."

"Hey, tell her she can hang with me if she gets bored...I've been taking
lambada lessons."  Frohicke offered.

"She'll love that even more" Mulder called back over his shoulder as he
headed for the door.

(continued)