EMXC 1st Year fanfic- October 1, 1994 thru October 1, 1995
Archived: 10/01/95
==============================================================


Gene X
by:
Brian M. Suyat
ArchCorp@aol.com
(01/03/95)

__This story is based on the characters and situations created by Chris
Charter, Ten Thirteen Productions and the Fox Broadcasting Company. No
infringement of copyright is intended.__



Tuesday, 1:47 AM, Auburn, WA.

     Two figures duck through branches and bushes, keeping out of the
moonlight.  They draw to a halt just shy of a clearing and a roving
spotlight.  Their destination rises ahead, a modest two-story office
building.  Most of the office lights are out, but the bottom floor remains
active.  A security fences marks the perimeter.  There is a good 50 meter
run from the clearing to the fence, another 100 meters to the compound.
     "My teeth ache," grumbles the shorter one.
     "Hush up, its only the security fence.  Don't worry about it."
     The first digs into the pockets of his black fatigues.  He pulls out a
black instrument with one LED and a small dial indicator.  When he pushes a
button, the needle clicks to the high end.
     "Jesus," he cries.  "There's enough charge to stick a ten pound cat to
a twelve foot ceiling."
     The larger one, his gloved hand wrapped around a compact crossbow,
needles him with the weapon.  The scowl reminds Junior to shut up.  He
rolls up the sleeve of his turtle-neck to reveal a large red tattoo on the
underside of his arm, a large, thick circle with an 'X' inside of it.  Next
to the tattoo a watch ticks consistently toward 1:50.
     A loud thud fills the air.  The sulfur lamps dim, and emergency
halogens come on.  The four perimeter guards scramble closer to the
building.  Another loud noise, this time a growing hum, befuddles the
guards.  Soon, the halogens pop and the compound is put into darkness.
     All the time, Junior busily takes readings and makes notes.  Now, Thug
grabs his shirt and tugs him to the fence.  Of balance, Junior fumbles to
set his starlight goggles and check the dial. 
     "No charge," Junior confirms.
     Thug quickly clips an opening in the fence, and they rush to the
southwest corner.  Junior checks the dim glow of his GPS module, and points
straight up.  Thug readies his crossbow.
     In an unexpected move, he shoves Junior and lands on top of him. 
Beams of light dance around over them, but they disappear around the
corner.
     Junior wipes dirt from his goggles as Thug puts a crossbow bolt
through the gap between roof and gutter.  He climbs to the second window
and easily pops it open.  Inside, he searches for a firm point to tie the
line.
     Outside, the guards continue their sweep.  Junior gets more fidgety
and thinks he hears a barking dog them coming around the corner. The left
side of his face still hurts from where Thug fell on him.  He works it
around checking for broken bones.  Luckily he holds tight to his mouth as
Thug started to drag him up the side of the wall.  He would have let out a
yelp otherwise.
     Thug looks deep into Junior's eyes.  "Stop goofing around."  Hot
breath steams Juniors contact lenses.
     Thug then helps Junior in the room by tossing him to the far wall. 
"Get to work."
     Now the other side of Junior's face hurts.  He refrains from goofing
with it.  Instead he fumbles into another of his pockets to pull out a
small box. It too has a single LED that lights when activated.  He attaches
a flexible antenna to it. Out of a breast pocket, Junior pulls a floppy
disk.  Its tangled cord wraps around his hand and he has to shake it free. 
He inserts the disk part into a floppy drive, the cord end he inserts into
the box.
     Thug reenters the room, but makes no comment.  He glances at his watch
and looks around.  His gloved hands now hold a 9mm pistol.
     Junior bumps his head while searching around under the desk.  He lets
out a yelp, and get a kick as a reminder not to do it again.  His hands
search the neatly arranged cords until he comes to the power strip
carefully mounted to the wall.  He punches the 'on' button, but that LED
does not light up.  He traces the cord to the outlet and pulls it out.
     Finding the releases with his free hand, Junior unclasps his belt, and
it falls to the floor with a dull thud.  The plug end goes into a
receptacle on the belt and then the power strip's LED turns on.  A smile
appears on Junior's face.
     Looking behind him, he doesn't see Thug.  His smile drops to concern. 
The GPS shows that their ride is arriving right on schedule, but his ticket
has disappeared.
     A beep on the computer reassures him that they are in business.
     Gunshots down the hall alert him to utter wrongness.  Thug is bounding
toward him in staggering steps, chips are being peeled away from the walls
by gunfire.  Thug lifts Junior up with both hands as he takes another slug
in the back of his kevlar coat.  Two steps take them to the window, a third
big one takes them into the air.  Thug's left hand grips the rope while his
right makes sure that Junior does not fly to far.  Thug's grip manages to
control their decent, but he looses it as the rope tears through his glove
and into his flesh.  They drop the last four feet.  and roll toward the
building.  Thug grabs a fully-loaded weapon from his leg holster and fires
blindly up to the window.
     Guards are running toward the southwest corner, but several canisters
of smoke fly across their path and stun them.
     A Hummer bursts through the barricade, its bright lights blinding the
guards.  Seemingly out of control, the Hummer weaves through the smoke to
the southwest corner.  Thug and Junior waste no time jumping into the
vehicle as it careens out the way it came.



Wednesday, 9:18 AM, Washington DC

     Agent Scully weaves her way through the a bull pen of other agents. 
All hurrying from one place to another.  At her elbow Field Agent Roberts
trails.
     "So, are we still on for tonight?"  He queries.
     Shouldering her purse and slipping to the left she misses an older
agent leading an entourage of cadets.  Roberts is trapped as a seemingly
unending trail of youngsters separates the couple.
     Scully calls behind her, "I'll catch you later, I'm already late."
     Special Agent Mulder tosses a case file to her side of the desks as
she enters.  "You almost missed the morning briefing," he prods.
     "Your friend the wire tap specialist asked me for coffee."
     "I thought that it would be good for him to get out and see other
people."
     As dry as possible, "Thanks, Mulder.  I'm surprised you hadn't broken
it off with him long ago."  She picks up the folder absently.
     "Agent Roberts shares my, uh, search for what's out there."
     "That's because all the women on this planet have dumped him."
     "From what I hear, you haven't actually confirmed that figure yet." 
Mulder may enjoy this banter, but his persistence hurries the conversation
to the next case.
     "Look, Mulder, I admit I'm late this morning, and its been rough
already.  Can we credit this Q&A to the case and you just get right to the
point?"  She sifts through the headlines, but notices no pattern yet.
     Mulder smiles in acquiescence.  "Sure, Scully, all you have to do is
ask."  He dims the lights and turns on the projector.  "This is Brandt L.
Jannes."  A picture of a young male is projected onto the far, blank wall. 
Jannes is small for a fifteen-year-old.  He has a bright face and glasses. 
He is staring intently at a chess board as if willing the pieces into
position.
     "What happened, did a ghost steal his bicycle?"
     "Are you up for more banter?"  Mulder retorts.  Scully rolls her eyes,
but remains quiet and attentive.
     Mulder skips through six slides of kids ranging in age from 11 - 16. 
The last one is of a sixteen year old.  He is a strong fellow with a mean
look, built like a professional linebacker, Scully believes him to have a
serious glandular problem.
     "This one, only known as 'Joey', doesn't really fit the mold, but for
sure," Mulder clicks to a picture of them as a group visiting a science
museum, "we are looking at a gang of high tech thieves."
     Scully looks intently at a small twelve year old girl with reddish
hair.  Not too much unlike her own picture at that age.  A gang of
children.  "What does this have to do with us?  How are they connected to
the Files?"  He still hasn't gotten to the point, and it wearies her.
     "They steal them."
     A moment goes by as Mulder's simple answer weaves its way through the
air and into Scully's hearing.
     "Doesn't look like anything is missing here."  Scully comments with
glee and motioning about the room.  She is going to get the upper hand at
some point this morning.
     "How observant."  Mulder clicks through more slides.  "California, New
York, Texas, and last night Washington."  He stops on a slide of a modest
two story office building.
     "Here?"
     "No, state." Mulder answers.  "The place where its much gloomier than
the post cards depict."
     "Just last night?  How did you fit that one in so fast?"
     "I saw it on CNN, they think its a Neo-Nazi group."  He pauses for
effect.  "I thought about calling you, but it was pretty late."
     "Then I guess I should have called you.  I would have had an excuse
out of my tryst with Roberts."
     An outright smile drifts onto Mulder's expression.  He manages to
contain it and get back to business.  "These were all data storage sites of
one type or another."
     "How do you know they were after your Files, they could be after any
of the Bureau's secrets."
     "There are a number of places like this around the country.  Some big
and some pretty small.  All have an inordinate amount of security for their
size, policy, but they don't hold anything of much secrecy.  What you can
get out of these places has already been published in Scientific American,
Omni and Wired.  Its the kind of data no one much cares about."
     Realizing where this might be going, Scully interjects, "And you think
the bureau doesn't care about your Files?"
     "Doesn't matter what the Bureau thinks, these kids do care about them.
 If they wanted useless data, they could tap our mainframe.  No, they are
looking for something specific, and I have it."


Thursday, 8:19 AM, PNW Memory

     "And then they left through the gate, but my people say they were too
quick and precise to stop them."  Security Lieutenant Amanda Edwards
explains as she led Agents Mulder and Scully to the southwest corner
office.  Lt. Edwards is small but built powerful.  She carries a large
sidearm, wears armor, and never takes off her sunglasses.
     Mulder trailed behind a little too closely, twice getting nicked by
that thin, black nightstick.  "How did they manage to get to the archival
files below from way up here?" he asked.
     "The techies are still working on that one.  In theory, all the
computers are LANned by physical wires,"  She looked thoughtful, as if
preparing to sound silly.  "but that night the power was cut.  There was no
juice to run the hardware.  The power came up unexpectedly, and we
immediately yanked the transmitter here and cut the terminal off.  So, we
still aren't sure how or when they actually pulled the Files."
     She hands a small, black project box with a single LED to Mulder and
points to a cable running across the floor.  The casing had been hacked
away and the wires split and frayed as if cut by a dull boot knife.
     Lt. Edwards continues, "We thought it was caught in time, but deep
memory probes reveal that files in alt.files.x were accessed."
     "What was the time stamp on the access?" Mulder asks.
     "The LAN clock went out with the power, they don't know when they were
accessed, but since no one researches your records, Agent Mulder, they
figure.."
     Silent until now, Scully interjects, "What else seems to have been
tampered with."
     Lt. Edwards turns to Scully, "Commonly used files, we're not sure.  It
is reasonably certain that no other limited access data was retrieved
recently."
     Mulder approaches the computer, examining it closely.  "Does this
thing still work?"
     "Yes, it suffered no damage, but its not connected to the LAN."
     "Have you examined these, uh, artifacts?"  Scully asked, referring to
the gadgets that stole precious FBI secrets.
     "That is a battery pack, used to boot up and run the computer,
apparently they accounted for us trying to pull the plug on it."
     Seemingly oblivious to the rest of the conversation, Mulder crawls
under the desk searching for loose wires.
     "And this?"
     "We figure that's a GPS, uh Global Positioning System."
     "Who do you think it positions?"
     "This room for sure, or rather a disk we found in that box.  A pirated
copy of 'Doom'."  Noticing Scully's quizzical expression Lt. Edwards adds,
"Its a very violent video game, quite addicting."  Edwards adds after a
pause too long, "So I am told."
     Scully nods comprehension to get to her next question, "What else?"
     "It's specifically tuned to a couple of very unique signals"
     "How unique?"
     Embarrassed, Edwards replies, "We don't even know why this disk sets
it off."
     At this time, Mulder decides to make his exit from underneath the
computer desk.  He bumps his head in the process and manages to shove the
two women out of his way by crawling back into them.
     "Agent Mulder, are you all right?" Edwards queries.
     Smiling, "Yeah, sure, I'm fine."  He is rubbing his head and absently
searching his pockets.  "Scully will you do me a favor?"  He produces a
floppy disk from his long trench coat.  "Take this to some computer and
print out last week's budgetary analysis?"
     "Mulder, I don't..." but Scully stops as she sees protesting would
only prolong the agony of suspense.  Taking the disk dejectedly, she looks
to Edwards for help.
     "Oh, there is a computer and laser printer down in this office." 
Edwards leads Scully down the hall.  Scully stops at the door to turn at
Mulder, but he only gives a winning smile and starts tapping at the
keyboard.
     Mulder leans back in the chair, puts his feet up, and steeples his
fingers.  His mind drifts through the many images he has picked up in his
life.  A complex filing system, product of a photographic memory, sorts the
images and places them in proper Fox Mulder order.  He runs a quick
regression exercise to deal with the flood.  Last year, the academy,
Oxford, high school.  That report on primates in the seventh grade is still
as clear as daylight.  He spent most of the night before tracing and
meticulously coloring his cover drawing to match the encyclopedia.  He
couldn't quite find the right shade of brown among Samantha's old crayons.
     Samantha, his little sister, gone, left all her toys behind.  He
remembers, with perfect clarity, her frightened face.  He tries harder to
go back to happier times, when he and Samantha were together.  Those
memories are not so clear.  He vaguely remembers a birthday party, either
his or Samantha's, kids there.  Happy, they were happy he was sure of it,
even though he couldn't make out all of the smiling faces.
     "Mulder, I got that report for you."
     Reality snaps into focus as Scully returns, still annoyed, with a
stack of papers twenty some odd pages thick.  "Thanks, Scully."  He pulls
the top page off and examines it thoughtfully.
     "Mulder, what is it this time?"  Scully's curiosity barely overshadows
her annoyance.
     Mulder points to the upper left hand corner of the page, where you can
see the time of printout.

          5:58 AM

     "Scully, what happens to your alarm clock when the lights go out?"
     "Mulder, I hope this is going somewhere."  She looks at him
expectantly.  Fearing the worst, she answers him, "It turns off, of
course."
     "What time is it when the lights come back on?"
     "It would flash 12 midnight.  Just like your VCR."  Scully answers,
just a little pleased with her small victory so far.
     Ignoring her jibe, Mulder continues, "So, when the power went out, all
the computers lost their time, right?"  The rhetorical question allows
Mulder to plod on, "then the thieves put power to this computer and the
clock resets.  Moments later, guards come in, foil the robbery chase the
villains out."
     "Yes, that fits the report so far."
     "They somehow get away in the smoke and confusion just before the
power comes back on and ALL the clocks reset.  And by this, they would have
reset at," Mulder checks his digital watch reading it at 08:27, "about 2:30
in the morning."
     "Mulder, you had me print out a twenty-seven page report so you could
check the time on the computers?"  Exasperated, she tosses the other twenty
six pages on an unused desk.  "Why didn't you just ask?"
     "I did," Mulder calmly replies turning the screen to Scully.

          C:\> time

          Current time is  6:29:46.14a
          Enter new time:

          C:\>

     "Seems that this computer turned on just before 2:00 AM.  It was
running for a good half an hour, and no one noticed."


Thursday 1:24 PM, Bellvue

     "Was this Ghetts a friend of yours in the Bureau?"  Scully asks.
     They had driven into the Seattle area.  Mulder had figured he might be
able to get some local information from an old acquaintance.  Scully was
still not sure where this whole case was going, but that was nothing new.
     "He and I went to the same, uh, school at one time."
     Scully wasn't really listening to Mulder's replies and his stories of
a boarding school for reclusive, yet gifted young children.  Instead she
drifts thinking about this case.  Why were their Files being stolen?  How
do they do it?  And, what made Mulder care so much?
     This was really a security matter.  The files belonged to them, Mulder
and Scully in some way, but, to tell the truth, this whole case was a
matter for a different department.  Surely, there were some suspicious
circumstances, yet that's why it was a mystery.  If there were no mystery,
the culprits would be behind bars and the case closed.
     Mulder was looking for something.  More likely, he had already found
something and hadn't yet told her the whole thing.  Stealing Files would be
a very personal matter for Mulder.  You'd have to be a lot like Mulder to
risk so much for, what?
     "They helped us deal with our abilities and to socialize.  It was a
great help to people like us?"  Mulder was finishing his stories about his
youth.
     Scully became aware he had been talking, and that she had probably
missed something.  "What, Mulder?"
     "Scully are you OK?"
     "Yeah, I'm OK.  I, uh, what were you saying about kids like you?"
     "Oh, that.  Its nothing really, ancient history.  I didn't mean to
bore you."
     "No, I," but Scully hesitated.  She wondered what it was really like
to be like Mulder.  Ahead of the game somehow.  What would it be like to
know more than one Fox Mulder type person?
     "Ah, we're here."  Mulder pulls into a parking tunnel that lead below
the University of Washington.  They find a parking space somewhere
underneath the main courtyard, Red Square.  A staircase opens up directly
into the heart of the campus.
     Two rollerbladers and a group of mountain bikers whisk past them.  All
too quick to ask for directions.  Out of one of the libraries, a young coed
breaks into the sunlight.  She has long blonde hair tied back in a
ponytail.  She is quite engrossed in whatever reading assignment she had
just picked up, but passes close enough to for Scully to get her attention.
     "Um, excuse me, where do you find the computer sciences buildings?"
     The girl looks up to greet them with a smile.  Despite her light hair,
her eyes are very dark, with very little white to them.  She is quite young
for a college student, easily mistaken for a teenager.  The girl looks them
over, and, upon deciding that they do indeed require assistance, points to
the main library.
     "You see that building with the scholars who look like gargoyles?" 
She paused to see if they find humor in that.  Mulder did, but Scully was
squinting.  "Well, you go down and around it to the left.  Go straight. 
They look like a 70's retro-futuristic office building.  You can't miss
them."
     When she saw that they had accepted the directions as fact, she
slipped away. The area wasn't too crowded between classes, but she somehow
vanished before Scully had a chance to thank her.  Mulder was already
heading off to seek out the retro-future.


     The sign on the door said Willis Ghetts, Ph.D.  Mulder opened it after
being waiting for a reply to his knock.
     "Hey, its Snaps!"  Dr. Ghetts called out.
     "Hello, Clicker."  Mulder offers his hand and they shake like old
friends, patting each others arm in a friendly male ritual.
     "Clicker, this is my partner, Agent Dana Scully."  Mulder pulls Scully
into the room and half pushes her to meet his friend.
     She offered a timid smile.  "Pleased to meet you Dr. Ghetts.  You have
a nice place around here."  she motions out the window where you could just
about make out the sun glimmering off of the water if you looked at the
reflection in the darkened widows across the quad.
     "Thank you, Agent Scully.  It's nice to be appreciated."  He offers
them chairs and returns to his behind the desk.  Ghetts is a broad
shouldered man.  His dark hair is speckled with gray, and his face is quite
wrinkled.  He folds large hands on the top of his desk and beams at the two
agents.  A broad, teeth showing smile pasted on his face.  "So, what has my
old pal, Snaps, been dragging you into lately?"
     "Well, Agent Mul-der," Scully emphasizes the pronunciation of her
partner's name, "has an interesting way of keeping me on my toes.  He has a
very open viewpoint."
     "Yes, so did we all.  But Mulder was always the talker.  Kind of the
ring-leader, you know?"
     Mulder breaks in with, "I think we can leave Agent Scully out of the
old times review."
     Scully looks at him like she wouldn't mind knowing a little more about
her peculiar partner.  She holds her gaze until it is clear to Mulder that
they would indeed have to go over this at a later time.  Mulder breaks the
look by turning to Ghetts and changing the subject to work.
     Mulder pulls out a small file folder and removes photographs of the
children.  "Have you ever seen any of these kids before?"
     Ghetts takes three of the pictures and holds them up to the light.  He
frowns a bit in concentration.  Waiting a sufficient time to show interest
he replies, "you know I don't have your prowess with faces, but I can be
pretty sure that I do not recognize anyone here."
     "Are you sure?"
     "Well, as sure as I can be.  Where do you think I might have had
chance to meet them?  My students usually come from a more mature
demographic, you know."
     "They are from The School," Mulder places a heavy emphasis on
'school'.
     Scully is noticeably more surprised than Ghetts at this revelation. 
She shoots Mulder another look that he tries to avoid but can't help but
understand.  It very clearly stated that a trip into Mulder's past is most
definitely scheduled for later in the day.  Especially the parts about
these kids, his school and how he fits them all together.
     Ghetts becomes more sure of himself.  "Nope, I can honestly say, I
have never met these kids.  If they are from the school, I hope they get as
much out of it as we did."  A broad smile returns to his face as he looks
at Mulder.
     Mulder has changed his expression to a less revealing business
countenance.  He plods on with more questions about what Ghetts might know
of the school's curriculum these days and what activities he may know of in
the area.  He also manages to give enough hints about his past to keep
Scully quiet for the time being.
     Oh, there will be hell to pay later, but for now, Ghetts is only
confirming what Mulder already is sure of.  Ghetts manages to convince the
agents that he doesn't have any information for them at this time.  If any
came up, he would most surely pass it along to them.  They plan to get
together later that night as he has to rush off to class.  Mulder agrees
saying he would call to confirm a restaurant for dinner.  A quick mental
note is created to cancel that idea later on.
     Mulder thanks the professor for his time, and wishes him a good
afternoon.  Scully and he had much more work to do.


     "I don't get?" Scully looks at Mulder questioningly. "What is it with
the nicknames?"  The two were walking back through Red Square to the
parking lot, the sun setting over evergreens.
     Mulder smiles, but not at Scully, more at fact that he and Ghetts
still couldn't  call each other by their proper names.  "Well, at the
school, every kid had a nickname of sorts.  You earned it by some of the
things you could do."
     Scully nodded in acknowledgment, but really didn't get the picture.
     "Ghetts got his because he was always good at math stuff.  Applied
math, Calculus and all that."
     "And you got your because of your ability to recall things as if by
photograph?"  Scully found the idea slightly distasteful.  "And the
teachers allowed this?"
     "They thought it was a good way for people to accept their gifts.  So
that they would not fear themselves or each other."
     "And you don't see anything wrong with it, even now?"  Scully was
trying to pin him down, but she did not yet know why.
     Mulder, sensing her uneasiness, shook it off, "Well, it was a long
time ago, we were kids.  Now, its just a part of us."
     Scully had planned her attack well so that she could get this whole
thing straight.  After her mildly curious question, she goes for the real
thing.
     "All right, Mulder, tell me all that you haven't been telling me." 
Scully stops short of the underground staircase.
     "Why is it always such a big secret?"  This was the most annoyed she
would allow herself to get, it had better be enough.
     "What do you want to know, Scully.?"  Mulder is bad at playing
innocent, and poor acting was just enough to make Scully twice as annoyed.
     "Look, we're partners.  I know you do things a little differently and
I accept that.  But it seems this time you have been keeping me totally out
of the scene.  This time you really do know something.  There are no
hunches here are you still won't let me know."  Scully pauses to take a
deep breath before belting out, "WHAT'S GOING ON?"
     Unfazed by her vehemence, Mulder calmly reaches into his coat pockets
and pulls out a floppy disk.  Scully looks at him with something nearing
rage in her eyes.  She won't print out a budget just to tread water again. 
He holds up his left hand as if to restrain her.  "Here is a listing of all
the children.  Can you run a check on their medical records?"  Scully makes
no move to take the disk.  Her breathing is ragged and her fists clench and
unclench in hypnotic rhythm.
     "Please."  Mulder knows a smile would be out of order.  He makes a
thin line with his lips showing that he might smile.
     Scully reaches for the disk slowly.  At the last minute, she lunges
for Mulder's paisley tie a pulls his face mere inches from her own.  An icy
gaze locks Mulder in position.
     "I... hate... you."  The words are spaced evenly and spoken with
precision.
     She snatches the disk out of his hand and turns on a heel.  Special
Agent Fox Mulder is left stooping in the middle of Red Square at the
University of Washington in Seattle.



Thursday, 5:12 PM, Interstate 5, Seattle

     Agent Mulder hadn't expected to be on the freeway at this time.  He
had really gotten lost after separating from Scully earlier in the day.  At
one time he was near Fisherman's Wharf, then the next thing he knew he was
tooling onto the express lane of the freeway.  He had just caught a glimpse
of the Boeing test strip, and nothing else interesting.  His only hope is
to get to the Zoo exit.  That might lead to where he wants to go.
     The radio had been acting up lately.  He couldn't find a channel that
wasn't playing some type of grunge rock, revolutionary, counter-culture
music.  He had given up and settled on a talk radio channel about psychics
and UFO sightings.
     "And there was this blinding white light," a woman on the radio was
saying.  "It was like a light that I had never seen before, but I wasn't
afraid, even though I knew I should be."
     Mulder looked directly at the radio to speak a single word, "Fake."
     His motion to change the channel was interrupted by a high squeal.  A
tremendous amount of feedback belched forth from the tiny speaker in the
dash.  He fell unconscious before reaching the volume.

     Mulder awoke strapped to a table. He was clothed in a white robe.  He
looked around him, but the entire room was white. Out of the corner of one
eye, he spied his real clothes in a heap on the floor.  Above him, a large
probing light loomed.  A light hum indicated that it indeed was moving
toward him.
     An grumbling voice echoed from somewhere inside the chamber.  "Do not
be afraid Mr. Mulder, we will not harm you."
     Sweat began dripping into his eyes.  An intense fear gripped him, and
he struggled with the bindings.  His teeth clenched and he bit his tongue. 
The taste of blood gave him strength.
     "Please, do not struggle," the voice urged.
     Mulder did not heed.  He began yelling obscenities as he wrenched his
body from side to side.
     "Mr. Mulder, we are your friends.  Please, just look into the light. 
Do not be afraid, we are here to help you.  To help you understand."
     Mulder forced himself to calm down, taking deep breaths.  He looked
directly into the light.  Through clenched teeth, he breathed, "Fake."

     "When I came to, it was like no time had passed," the lady on the
radio continued.
     Mulder looked about him.  There was a three car length gap ahead of
him that was already being filled by four cars.  The car behind him blared
its horn incessantly.  His watch proclaimed it to be 5:16 PM.  Mulder spun
around in his seat to check the back.  Nothing was there.  On the
dashboard, though, a small LED blinked quietly from a black project box
with flexible antenna.


Thursday, 10:04 PM, Downtown Seattle

     Scully poured over the laptop computer.  She had burned up the last
four hours on the phone with the network computers in Washington D. C. and
wherever else they stored the country's medical files.
     She had taken a taxi back to the extravagant hotel room that the two
partners shared.  Normally, this situation would not be the case, but there
was an inordinate number of conventions going on in the city this week. 
The two were forced to share a truly overpriced suite with an uncountable
number of amenities.
     Scully had, at first, parked herself in the reading alcove with a pulp
novel she picked up at the airport.  It was her determination that there
would be no researching while she was in this mood.  In fact, the first
thing upon entering the room was to toss the disk Mulder had given her into
the fireplace.  It was a symbolic gesture of course as the gas was not
turned on.
     It then occurred to her that she would have to be doing something when
Mulder got back.  Otherwise, they would have to talk.  That would be
difficult since Scully wasn't speaking to Mulder anymore this day.
     Just after seven that night.  Mulder quietly slipped in the front,
double doors.  He saw Scully diligently typing away in a plush chair next
to the fireplace.  Feeling hungry, he ordered enough food for all of his
cousins, but went to bed before it arrived.
     He came out of the room now walking around in bare feet and tussled
hair.  His tie hung loosely in a very non-Mulder way.  A sorry attempt at
getting sympathy thought Scully.  It surely won't work.  Mulder picked
through the cold leftovers.  Finding a chicken leg of interest, he flopped
into a chair to watch the city lights.
     Scully reviewed what she had learned.  The records showed that this
school Mulder made vague references to was a school for highly gifted
children.  It was founded in the east, but soon spread nationally.  Its
charge was to help gifted children deal with their abilities and socialize.
 The clientele was not limited to the intellectually advanced.  Gifted
could mean any paranormal ability be it mental, physical or awareness.
     Paranormal, it hadn't said that specifically, but that is what it
pointed to.  Scully thought that extra-normal would have a more scientific
ring to it, so she placed that into her report instead.  Still, she had
thought it.
     The medical reports revealed just what types of extra-normal abilities
this gang supposedly had.  Brandt Jannes, AKA Junior, is quite adept at
electrical devices.  Joey, AKA Thug, is physically endowed with abnormally
dense muscle tissue.  Liza is an artist, Napoleon is a strategist.  Ginger
has a very active metabolism and imagination.  Often changing her hair
color as often as she changes clothes.  There is no clear description as to
what makes North a part of the school.  It does make some mention that she
spent a substantial amount of time in isolated treatment facilities.
     Scully looks over at Mulder.  He is lost in thought.  His eyes are
open, but his eye lids are fluttering.  Looked like REM, but he was wide
awake, or so it seemed.  She did not feel so bothered by him anymore. 
Maybe he just felt the pressure of closely examining his old school.  There
surely was something he was holding back.  Maybe for good reason.
     Without warning, Mulder speaks to his partner, "I was abducted by
aliens today."
     Scully reeled.  This was it, she decided.  I will calmly walk over,
get my coat then get the hell to the airport as fast as possible.  Mulder
can play out his fantasies alone from now on.
     Mulder turned to Scully.  She hadn't yet moved.  Agent Scully was
frozen, staring at him.  He looked directly at her so she knew he was
serious.  "It was fake."
     "Mulder, I have tried to be patient, I have tried to see things your
way."  Scully showed signs of weakening.  She couldn't take much more of
the enigma call Mulder.
     Mulder tries to make things right by explaining, "It was the kids,
they are trying to get to me.  I mean, they are calling me out.  Stealing
the Files, leading me to Ghetts, the abduction..."
     "Yes, what about this abduction?" Scully asks with disgust.
     "I told you, it was fake, set up by the kids."
     "To what end?  What are they looking for?"
     "That's what I would like to know," admits Mulder.  "Are you up for a
show tomorrow night?"
     "Mulder, for the life of me, I will never understand your
transitions."
     Mulder proffers two tickets as a means of explanation.

          Seattle Civic Center
          Peter Pan
          5:00 PM

     Scully takes the tickets and looks at them with much more than idle
curiosity.  The pieces are all here.  She just can't put them together. 
Her earlier hypothesis that Mulder had put them together seems to be
incorrect now.  However he had assembled this case, it wasn't correct.  She
had to do it, Scully was determined to figure this one out from scratch. 
More because it would gain her some bit of understanding about Mulder.
     Mulder watches as Scully drift into her own thoughts.  Scully's
skepticism about the paranormal would be a big block to her understanding
of this case.  He wasn't sure of it all himself.  It was like putting a
puzzle together but missing an all important corner piece to help define
the edges.
     A beep at the computer told Scully that a search had just been
completed.  Mulder walked over to see just what she had been doing.  Now
that they were speaking again, he could get a feel for what she had found
out.
     To Mulder's surprise, Scully ignores the computer's plea and stands up
stretching.  "I am going to bed.  Look at this in the morning.  I'm tired."
 They both know that 'tired' was an understatement.  Scully strides off to
her side of the suite and closes the bedroom door with a soft click.
     Mulder strains to hear if she has any more to add to the case, but not
a sound more can be determined.  He looks at the computer screen.  Reads
through the medical files.  It all correlated to the information that he
had gathered from other sources.  The medical records had the same holes,
too.  Seems that whoever is running this group is quite thorough.  Most
likely some kind of help from some force greater than two agents sharing a
plush suite in downtown Seattle.
     Yet, someone out there was going to a great deal of trouble to make
sure that he was involved in the whole plot.  Probably the only one who
would believe and pursue the evidence.  The group was taking a great chance
to be foiled.  They tried and failed to turn him around with that abduction
scheme.  Did they think that stunt could fool him?  It just confirmed that
Mulder had a role in the plan.  What was the plan?  He looks into his coat
pocket and begins an examination of the black box found in his car.



Friday, 7:00 AM

     Scully sits chewing on a piece of crunchy bacon.  Mulder had again
taken the liberty of ordering way too much food.  She pokes about the eggs
but settles on hash browns.  She pours orange juice for herself and a glass
of tomato juice for Mulder.
     Mulder, at this time, was singing in the shower.  A nameless tune with
lots of "and... hum, mm, huh, huh.. and she.. mm-mm, uh-huh." verses in it.
     Scully clears an area for the laptop and proceeds to check over all
that data that should have come in last night.  To her surprise, she found
even more information than she had imagined.  Apparently, Mulder left some
of his files out for her to see.  There was a file proclaiming itself to be
'Official Property of Sedgewood School for the Gifted'.  She sifted through
it, and found it revealed no clear answers.  There was some mention of
curriculum and referred specifically to the gang they were currently
pursuing.  On a hunch, Scully ran a search for the word pattern 'Mulder,
Fox'.  Yes, always the thorough agent, Mulder had included information
about himself.  Scully frowned a bit on examining it.  She notices
something that had not been apparent before.
     Mulder walks into the common area, his hair hadn't been combed yet,
but he is already fixing a drab tie.  He notices Scully at the table and
asks, "Did they remember my melon balls?"
     "Mulder,"  Scully looked right at him, "at what age were most kids
inducted into the school."
     "Well, Scully, good morning to you too."
     Scully held her eyes to his.  "It will be if I win the next argument."
     The point was taken by Mulder.  "They arrived at many ages. 
Paranormal abilities usually show up at adolescence."
     "I'm not asking about paranormal abilities or adolescence.  What age
were most of the kids at your school."
     "By the time I got there, most of the kids my age had been there for
around five years.  But its not like I had a hard time with my abilities. 
The stress at that time made me more reclusive.  The doctors and analysts
were more aware of what was happening then.  I probably would never have
gone to the school otherwise."
     Scully had forced her point, yet Mulder didn't know it.  She reveled
in it for a moment.  "Mulder, I am going to say that definitely you would
not have been invited to the school if your sister had not disappeared."
     "Look, I know the school's methods of recruitment were varied, but are
you suggesting that UFO sightings were part of the selection process?"
     "Mulder, it's time you look at the facts.  Not the UFO part, but the
trauma of the situation."
     She turns the computer around so that he could read it.  "All of the
psych profiles suggest some sort of phobia or paranoia.  Fear of being left
alone, distrust, fear in particular of their own abilities.  There was some
cause for these fears, and that same cause is the catalyst for their
extra-normal abilities.  I wasn't sure until I found your files and
profiles." 
     Scully's steady gaze belied a deep sense of seriousness.  "The classic
signs of extra-normal ability, or at least how the school classifies a good
student, did not manifest themselves until the disappearance of your
sister. Extreme trauma causes a fundamental change in the bodies
physiology.  This 'school' as you call it, targets those who have been
traumatized and who have a propensity to become more than average
afterwards."
     "Scully, I can't believe I am hearing this from you.  You are saying
that aliens made me what I am today."  Mulder was almost delighted.  It
seemed Scully had shaken some of her skepticism.
     "Mulder, no.  I am saying that the school is exploiting the children's
traumas.  Their nicknames, the curriculum, the socialization.  It's all
designed to make you believe you are more than average.  And through that
teaching you become more.  More driven, more able," she pauses to catch her
breath.  Softly she adds,  "and more paranoid."
     Mulder looks back at her.  He paces around the room some.  "If this is
how you try to explain my erratic behavior..."
     "Mulder, your erratic behavior is how I came up with this."
     Mulder looks out the large picture window, and spies the Space Needle.
 "Scully, what if they became less secretive about what makes these kids
special?  What if they were told that aliens were responsible?  To better
impress the children how special they are."
     "You know better than I.  They would begin to harbor greater
resentment and fear for the extraterrestrial."
     "Xenophobia."  The word escaped Mulder like a whisper.  "In their own
minds, they would hate aliens and have the power to destroy them."
     Both were standing and pacing about the room.  The pieces were falling
together, and it was much more diabolical than they ever assumed.
     "They are going to contact aliens in order to destroy them.  That's
why they needed me.  They couldn't remember that feeling.  They are going
to transmit me.  My genuine admiration, fears or whatever.  I am going to
be the bait."
     "What?!"  Scully found this to be delusional.  Maybe she had crossed
over too much and given Mulder too much to work with.  He could have
snapped.
     "Liza is a telepath."  Mulder spied a look from Scully.  "OK, they
plan to use images from my head to bait aliens to earth in order to destroy
said aliens."  He looks at Scully for corroboration.
     "They can't use their own minds, they're filled with fear and hatred. 
They know how badly I want to believe, how much I would give to meet
extraterrestrials.  My thoughts are pure compared to them."
     "Mulder, I admit I set up the profile, but you have taken it beyond
what I believe to be plausible."
     "Look, Scully, I don't care if it is true, plausible or none of the
above.  These kids believe they are paranormal and they believe it is
possible to contact aliens.  Whatever their half-baked plan is, its likely
to be extremely reckless and endangering to the population.  Their previous
capers show a high level of planning and a disregard for anonymity or for
innocent bystanders."
       Mulder picks his coat off of the large couch in the room.  "Besides,
I've been invited to the homecoming."


Friday, 4:30 PM, Seattle Center

     Scully and Mulder hang around the carnival games, near a large food
pavilion.  They are dressed as normal tourists in jeans and T-shirts from
Settle.  Scully's says, "Washington seasonal calendar:  Summer, warm rain, 
Winter, cold rain."
     Mulder is wearing a light wind breaker because it looked like it just
might rain.
     A large man crosses the pathways towards the Space Needle structure. 
Mulder nudges Scully.  They both recognize him as Dr. Willis Ghetts. 
Scully tosses her cotton candy as they trot to catch him.
     "Dr. Ghetts," Mulder calls out.  "I didn't know you were invited to
the party."  He and Scully flank the doctor, each grabbing an arm.
     "I am glad you are here, Snaps."  Ghetts cheerfully replies.  He is
not upset at their rough handling of his person.
     "One of us is."  Mulder steers the threesome to an out of the way spot
near a maintenance shed under the structure.  "Tell me what you are going
to do.  Where are the others?"
     "Snaps, you know as well as I, this is very important for the sake of
all the world. We are the chosen.  And that was their worst mistake.  They
left us behind, but we fooled them.  We amounted to more than a match.  We
will make the world safe for all.  Don't you see?  You can be a part of it.
 You are the new breed, we will not be oppressed anymore."
     Scully could not hide her concern.  "Doctor, you are deluding
yourself.  Please, tell us your plan.  We don't want anyone to get hurt."
     "We don't either."  Ghetts replies.  "We will make it safe."
     A Hummer bursts through he crowd.  It weaves around obstacles and
barely misses a number of pedestrians.  The driver veers to the left
putting the vehicle on a course directly at the agents and the doctor. 
Scully pulls Ghetts with her to the left.  Mulder slips right and draws his
weapon.
     A haze of bullets forces him to dive for cover as the Hummer passes by
him.  It screeches to a halt next to the base of the Space Needle.  Mulder
jumps up and aims his gun at the vehicle doors.  The first person out will
be targeted.
     A dizzy feeling fills Mulder's ears as he is swiftly lifted from the
ground and tossed into a bush.
     From his upside-down position, Mulder manages to fire three rounds at
the assailant.  Thug does not seem to mind, and grabs Mulder's arm before
the forth round can be spent.
     Mulder kicks a leg at Thug's knee.  This brings the large teenager
down a little closer, an elbow to the large nose of Thug cracks some bones
and causes his eyes to water.  Mulder rolls out from underneath as the
brute falls into the bushes.  Mulder puts a cuff on one large arm and slips
the free cuff between the teen's legs and cuffs a belt loop.  The
humiliating position should hold him for now.
     Ghetts pushes himself free of Scully's grasp and runs to aid the
Hummer occupants.  Five youngsters are busily unloading a variety of
electronic equipment all packaged in black boxes with red LEDs.  A small
boy runs to a major footing and attaches a number of cables with large
gripper jaws.
     Scully retrieves her weapon from a leg holster.  Holding the gun
before her, she approaches the group.  She calls out to them to stop, but
they are on an agenda of their own.  Junior scampers back to the group and
unveils a box with some switches on it.  Scully calls once more for him to
stop.  Junior looks at her and smiles.  He puts his hands in the air and
steps toward her.
     Another boy is crouched behind the panels.  When he knows the agent to
be occupied, he reaches over the box and hits all the switches he can find.
 Scully fires at the boy and the panel.  It is too late.  A loud hum fills
the air as power is freed from three of the boxes.  The Space needle lights
up with a bluish glow.  Scully steadies her aim at the power sources, but
cannot seem to pull the trigger.  She looks into the eyes of a girl.      
Another girl she vaguely recognizes from the University rushes up to take
her weapon.  Scully has plenty of time to think that this girl didn't have
red hair and olive skin last time they met.
     It is as if the world is in slow motion, but the girls are moving at
full speed.
     Mulder cries out, but he is only able to move one small step at a
time.  He watches as lightning arcs up from the Space Needle to the sky. 
People all around are running away.  Crowds are stunned into position.
     Junior and Ghetts work a computer console.  The others work around
getting to their tasks.  Somehow, one of the girls is able to free Thug and
he carries some large boxes to the maintenance elevator.  Power has gone
out everywhere else but here.
     Through determination, Mulder is able to get close enough to the
Hummer to touch it.  When he does, he is able to walk normally.  Ghetts
looks at him and smiles his broad smile.  "I knew you couldn't help but
join us."
     Dimly, Mulder looks about at the frightened people.  They look much
less than human.  Scully is frozen still trying to fire a weapon she no
longer has.  Mulder wants to help her, but he still is not thinking
clearly.
     Liza grabs his hand and he feels a rush of images again.  He tries to
turn them off, but it is too compelling.  All the way back, back to
Samantha.  He feels the image drawn from him, extracted from his being.
     "Don't worry," he hears.  "We will take away the hurt.  Make it work
for us."
     The pain is his head is unbearable.  "My sister," he breathes through
clenched teeth.  "That's my sister."
     The clouds begin to roll together.  They form a cohesive image in the
sky.  Lightning arcs to and from the structure.  Almost in Morse code.  The
screen before Ghetts flashes alphanumerics that he seems to understand. 
Junior adjusts knobs and dials in response to Ghetts' translations.
     "Almost here," Mulder hears Ghetts, though his ears are filled with
indescribable noise.  "Liza get that image, they must know we are true to
them.  Get them closer."
     Mulder feels his mind being ripped apart.  the colors are melting into
one another.  Soon there will be no recollection of his sister or his life
before her loss.  He fights to keep that memory.  He fights to keep a
memory that isn't tainted by an external power.  That isn't tainted by an
extraterrestrial power.  He fights to keep his sister, which is his only
wish.
     Mulder places his left hand on his forehead to stop the pain.  Liza
steps closer to place her hands there too.  An outburst of hate and fear
allows Mulder to slap the young girl across the face with the back of his
hand.  She sprawls to the ground unconscious.
     Mulder turns to the two at the computer console.  They are busy and do
not notice his freedom.  Mulder begins to advance on them but he is
immediately engulfed in blue fire.  An unseen force throws him back into
the stiff Scully.
     In the sky, he sees the clouds lighten and loosen.  There is no more
lightning, then there is no more light.

Saturday, 4:37 PM, SeaTac Airport

     Scully sits reading a pulp novel, her laptop is safely tucked away in
a travel bag.  She finished her version of the report about an hour ago.
     Mulder sits slowly typing and deliberately typing each word.  His head
still throbs with some unfounded pressure.  It is difficult for him to form
sentences in proper FBI-speak, but he must get this down while the incident
is still fresh in his mind.

     Eye-witnesses at the scene testify that a storm came on quite suddenly
and disappeared just as quickly.  Local authorities see no reason to pursue
a detailed investigation of what they term, 'a common happenstance around
here'.
     McChord Air Force base weather division did record an inordinate
change in pressure in the downtown Seattle area.  They, too, agree that it
is not outside of the weather patterns for the area.  No reports of UFO
sightings or radar evidence thereof are on record.
     Much of the equipment seized at the base of the Space Needle was
either damaged beyond recognition or unidentifiable without further study. 
A team from the university of Washington has volunteered to research the
black boxes more carefully.  I have also requested that some of the local
technical firms get a chance to review the evidence.  The FBI has made no
indications that it should handle investigations beyond the coordinating
level.
     Professor Willis Ghetts remains missing.  A search of his residence
returned no pertinent evidence.  Although, his colleagues in the Computer
Sciences department were not aware that he was such an avid astronomer as
the extensive equipment in his home suggests.  Further investigation into
the background of Dr. Ghetts is strongly suggested.      None of the
suspected Sedgewood School for the Gifted  students could be located at the
scene.  A Hummer matching the description I provided was found just outside
of the downtown area.  It had apparently been stolen last month from a home
in Bellingham.  Sedgewood officially denies any knowledge of the students,
and records that Agent Scully and myself retrieved earlier this week do not
match those provided by the school this morning.
     A full report of the suspected wrongful practices of the Sedgewood
School for the Gifted is pending.  Integral to the report and
recommendation will be the psychological treatment that the School renders
to its students.  Given the obvious precarious state of each students'
psychological predicament.  They are surely susceptible to suggestion and,
possibly, manipulation.  Sedgewood denies these allegations also, but a
further investigation is warranted.
     It is not known whether the children will return to capers in some way
or if they are even in the area.  It is certain that, should they appear
again, it is imperative that they be apprehended.  They are paranoid and
possibly delusional.  They potentially possess powerful and dangerous
paranormal abilities as witnessed by this agent.  The psychosis and
megalomanic tendencies give them a severe disregard for the population they
believe to be protecting.
     It would be prudent to set up observational operations in areas with
similar structures to the Space Needle.  It seems to be an important factor
in their plot to destroy extraterrestrial beings.  Also begin preliminary
background checks on Sedgewood graduates in positions of power.
     As of this date, the File remains open.  This team is to be notified
if any of the above investigations discover new leads.

XF FanFic     X Gen     Brian M. Suyat




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