NEW STORY: "Archaea" (16/31)
Mary Ruth Keller
==================================================================
Archaea by Mary Ruth Keller <mke...@universe.digex.net> (16/31)
TITLE: "Archaea"
AUTHOR: Mary Ruth Keller
EMAIL ADDRESS: mke...@universe.digex.net
DISTRIBUTION STATEMENT: Release to x-files-fanfic, but not to the
ATXC group, or the archives. I'll take care of that myself.
SPOILER WARNING: Any episode prior to the Third Season "Syzygy"
RATING: PG-13 for violence
CONTENT WARNING: Nasty actual science, Pendrell, the Lone Gunmen
CLASSIFICATION: X - an X-file investigation with the Conspiracy
intertwined
SUMMARY: Mulder and Scully investigate a potentially deadly
microscopic life-form recovered from volcanics in Washington
State. But when their seemingly straightforward case comes to the
attention of the Consortium and an unexpected group of outsiders,
they must use all the resources at their disposal to safeguard it
from falling into the wrong hands.
DISCLAIMER: The characters and situations of the television
program, "The X-Files" are the creation and property of Chris
Carter, Fox Broadcasting, and Ten-Thirteen Productions, and have
been used without permission. No copyright infringement is
intended.
==================================================================
Scully Residence
Annapolis, MD
Saturday, 12:54 am
Margaret Scully lifted the receiver off the phone, then replaced
it. There was one woman who would understand her dilemma, one only
who could offer advice, but was it right to call her? Was it right
to take a family matter outside the tight circle of Scully women
and men? She slid her address book out from under the single
volume of Maryland Yellow Pages before leaving her spotless
kitchen.
<You've already called Fox.> But he was as thickly interconnected
as any of them, moreso, if she could ever revive her fondest hopes
for her baby girl. And then there was this old man with the acrid
cigarettes, that both Fox and Dana had so carefully shielded her
from. She'd hidden in the bathroom, listening to him compare her
to Caligula's mother and Nero's grandmother.
<Remember the trip to Yale.> In desperation one summer, when Bill
was stationed in Rhode Island, she had packed four squirming
children in her Suburban for a sightseeing trip. They had stopped
at Yale's gallery, where she had fallen in love with a Benjamin
West oil painting displayed there, showing a woman carrying the
ashes of her dead husband back to Rome. The image had stuck her as
an icon of wifely devotion to duty, but, at the time, she had no
idea it was a portent of her life to come.
<Ancient Chimney.> Yes, if she could speak to anyone, it was
Caroline Lowenberg. Margaret settled on the couch in her living
room, the new cel phone her daughter had insisted she buy, and
that she suspected Dana's partner was partially funding, in her
lap. Flipping through ruled pages in the black book, she smiled at
a tiny ball of fluff grunting and circling instinctively on the
cushion beside her. One ring, then another.
"Lowenberg residence."
"Max? Max, this is..."
"Margaret! Wonderful to hear from you! How are you?" She heard a
creak as the white-haired man settled into what she assumed was a
rattan chair.
"I'm fine, Max. I have a new grandson, you know." As she talked,
she scratched the Pomeranian under his chin.
"So I've heard. Your daughter wrote the kindest thank-you note
after she and Mulder borrowed the Miami house in February. You're
welcome to use it at any time as well, you know." Margaret smiled.
"Thank you. Dana and Fox both needed that extra week down there.
They were just worn down to nubs when they left Norfolk. Is,
is..." She paused, listening to a muffled discussion between
husband and wife, then to the phone exchanging hands.
"Margaret, is that you?"
"Yes, hello, Caroline."
"Max sends his apologies, he has a visitor." Margaret shifted.
"Oh, I'll call back." A bright laugh.
"Nonsense. He's gone and embroiled himself in some local politics,
and you know the Greeks when it comes to that. A city council
meeting is treated with the same emotion and intensity as if it
were the Super Bowl and the World Series, all rolled into one."
Both women smiled. "It'll go on for at least two hours. What's on
your mind?" Margaret hugged herself.
<Right to the point, as usual.> "It's Dana, Caroline, or rather,
something Bill and Charles have decided about Dana."
"Oh, dear."
"They want her to leave the Bureau." A long sigh.
"All for her own good, of course."
"Naturally. And to safeguard the family." An image of herself and
her multi-generational red-haired brood, scattered around the
rocky, sun-washed grounds of a sprawling Mediterranean residence
was squelched quickly.
"I'm so sorry, Margaret. Dana's worried and unhappy, no doubt."
"Your boy is looking out for her, Caroline, but she'll only tell
us she's fine, and we all know better. My sons believe they're
protecting the next generation of Scullys this way, but I know
things are beyond that, now."
"I was afraid it would come to this. Let me think about the
situation, talk it over with Max, alright?"
"Of course, Caroline. Oh, I believe I met an old friend of yours
yesterday, a smoker?" A gasp.
"Margaret, this is very serious. If he's still alive, there's no
telling what can happen." There were rustling sounds. "I'm afraid
Max and Mister Demetrias will just have to put off the
philosophical debates for a while."
"Oh." A cold knot of fear formed in Margaret Scully's stomach.
"But don't worry. We'll figure something out. I know how his mind
works, what schemes he may be hatching. I'll call you as soon as I
come up with something, alright?"
"Yes. Thank you, Caroline. I'm not quite so worried now." She set
the unit on the side table before tucking the Pomeranian under her
chin. "What are we going to do, Mister Fuzz?" His only advice was
a contented snuffle as he nosed his way under her collar, and she
found herself smiling.
"I wish it was that easy."
--o-0-o--
Apartment Complex
Laurel, Maryland
Saturday, 11:24 am
"Hey!" After opening her door, 'Ace' hugged the figure outside.
Her face changed from a broad smile of delight to a curious frown.
"You taken up smoking, Drew?" Stepping back, she rubbed his mound
of a stomach. "I don't want you to change anything about you. I
love you just the way you are." Patting her back as they walked
further into her living room together, he kissed her ear before
whispering.
"Lisa, he's alive." Stepping away, she fixed him in her
penetrating gaze.
"Mister Coal Factory came to see you?" A nod. "Why?" She grasped
his hand. "How are you still alive?" He draped an arm over her
shoulder to pull her against him.
"He wants access, Lisa, in exchange for his knowledge." She
dropped into one of her living room chairs.
"Do you trust him?" 'Charlie' shrugged.
"You know what we were taught. But he won't let the work go under.
He suggested we check up on what Mulder and Scully are into."
Nodding, she moved across into her den, which was as crammed with
computers as her old efficiency had been. There, she activated the
screen on her SGI.
"Right. They're off to the Cascades, chasing some bug they've
found. It eats glass, apparently." 'Charlie' began pacing.
"Glass? What could be so important about that?" She shrugged.
"Don't know. But, I was reading this message from 'Andrew' just
before you arrived. Apparently, the shape-shifter has been flying
all over the country, stopping at storage lockers. He either
doesn't know, or doesn't care, that we've been tailing him."
'Charlie' sat beside her.
"I don't like this. We know what kills these 'visitors'. We
shouldn't just be monitoring their actions, we should eliminate
them, once and for all. If he gets the chance to return to his
planet..." She sighed.
"That's what the Resolution was for. 'Finn' and 'Andrew' know
that. We can't really use their genetic structure for anything,
it's too different from our own. We need to talk to them, to work
out a new strategy for the aliens." She kissed his ear. "Oh, and
you'd better shower. You still smell like him; with that sensitive
nose of his, 'Finn' will pick up on it right away." She tipped her
head. "I presume you don't want them to know?" He kissed her back,
holding her tightly.
"Do you think they would believe me?" He began walking towards the
bathroom, then swiveled to hold one arm out to her, waiting until
she settled under it. "Join me?" Resting her head on his shoulder,
she chuckled.
"Maybe. I have to download some data from the Gunmen's network
first." Laughing out loud, he kissed the crown of her dark curls.
"You've finally beaten the little troll?" As he mussed her hair,
she shrugged.
"For now. But it's only a slight window of opportunity." 'Ace'
waved her hand at the bathroom. "Go!"
--o-0-o--
Desolation Peak
Ross Lake National Recreation Area
Saturday, 12:27 pm
Donna Whiteman wriggled free of Dallas' body, smiling as he
drowsily pawed at her waist.
"You are insatiable." He kissed her on the nose.
"It's the mountains, babe. I'm inspired." They both jumped as the
ground moved, then Donna pulled on the grass at the edge of the
blanket.
"Did you feel that, Dal?" Tugging on his jeans, he glanced down
the slope.
"If it had been just a little bit earlier, I would have said you
can really make the earth move, O-Donna, but I don't think so."
She was dressing quickly as well. "This slope is barely holding.
Let's get out of here." Fear propelling them, they dressed and
made their way down the path quickly. She clutched his hand.
"I'd hate to be caught up here if one of the hillsides slumped
away, Dal." She shuddered. "All that water, locked up as snow from
the winter. The slopes are steep enough through here as it is, and
trees can't hold the soil in under all weather conditions." He
hugged her.
"We'll be fine, don't worry, there are three dams to control water
flow in the area. The water will never get too high, it'll just
run more coffee-makers down in Seattle, right? Besides, by
tomorrow, we'll be well south of here."
--o-0-o--
Gate at Delta Terminal
Sea-Tac International Airport
Seattle, Washington
Saturday, 2:13 pm
"Sir?" Mulder sighed as he felt a hand grasp his shoulder. "Sir?"
Opening his eyes, his first sight was his partner's face, soft in
repose. He would have preferred to linger on the gentleness she
usually hid behind her Agent and Doctor mask, but the hand and
voice were insistent. "Sir, we've landed." He glanced around at
the nearly empty plane, waiting for the other presence to leave,
before lightly brushing his partner's cheek with his fingertips.
"Hey, sleepyhead." There was a flicker behind the eyelids.
"I'm awake." He watched her grope on the fold-down tray for her
notes, her eyes still firmly shut.
"I have them, Scully." She accepted the pages, and the partners
stumbled from the plane, dragging suit-bags and laptops that
seemed heavier than before.
--o-0-o--
Main Terminal
Sea-Tac International Airport
Seattle, Washington
Saturday, 2:19 pm
After pocketing his cel phone, the square-jawed man slid a padded
envelope, covered in the same blocky symbols he glimpsed at the
warehouse, out of the locker. <The navigational processor. How did
they know, on a brief foray inside a vessel one hundred years
younger than anything they could have possibly encountered, which
two pieces to remove to ground me forever?>
Throwing a couple of furtive glances over his shoulders, he paused
as he spotted a tall, dark-haired man, with a petite, red-haired
woman, emerging from the Concourse B. <I'd better keep track of
those two.> Tucking the packet and the silver box back inside the
locker, he began tailing them, keeping a discrete distance.
--o-0-o--
Avis Rental Lot
Sea-Tac International Airport
Seattle, Washington
Saturday, 2:47 pm
Glancing at his watch again, Mulder huffed at the delay in the
mechanic's return. Their Cherokee had a flat rear tire, and the
insufferable, *greasy* little man sent to change it had been away
for nearly a quarter of an hour. As Scully watched her partner's
frantic pacing, his fists on his hips, she cast about for a
subject that would soothe his nerves.
"How long was I out, Mulder?" He crossed his arms, then smirked.
"Hum? The rest of the flight." She winced.
"Oh. Sorry. Did you come up with anything while I was gone?" He
turned to scan the mechanics' trailer at the rear of the rental
lot.
"Not really. I was just trying to use your Kindred idea to explain
how the Colony knew all that information about Sam." After he
spotted their laggard attendant emerging, he flashed a lopsided
grin at her. "I want to be the last to stop your theorizing, Agent
Scully, but I don't understand how they came up with that uniform
image to project that they claimed was her. It would be easy if we
accepted the common dictum of the UFO community that the
government is in cahoots with the aliens, but that doesn't square
with what we've found out." She nodded, waiting beside him as the
coverall-clad man hurriedly mounted the tire, sloppily affixing
the nuts and hubcap.
"Don't want to keep busy people like you waiting!" Nodding while
he moved away from them, he rushed back to the ringing telephone.
Scully couldn't tell whether his tone was helpful, casual or
caustic, before her partner was by the door, offering a hand into
the passenger seat. As they drove to the exit, she switched
subjects, then continued.
"Like I said earlier, I don't have to always say, no, no, anymore.
Nichols remains totally unconvinced that a colony of aliens or a
government conspiracy is even possible..." Mulder nodded.
"Despite his persistent support for anything paranormal. Our
resident astronomer will tie the rest of us down to any and all
evidence available."
"Speaking of evidence, the Kindred-Colony and the Bounty Hunter
were all seeking to escape the attention of the US government,
with good reason. That submarine you met the Bounty Hunter on was
probably sent to blow his ship up, not enter into diplomatic
negotiations. The Colony only came to us in absolute desperation,
but that they found us so easily was the first clue, to me, that
the Kindred and Colony were one and the same." He eased the
vehicle into the right-most lane.
"Hum. They knew who we were because we dropped in for dinner. Then
there's Deep Throat's UN assassination resolution." Scully pursed
her lips.
"The aliens seem perfectly capable of adapting our technology to
their own purposes. How many UFO groups know about how Sam
disappeared?"
"What? Besides the Gunmen? NICAP, for one. And they do have data
bases on the Web. So you think the Colony checked us out for the
details, anyway. But the women's appearances weren't that far off
my vision of Sam." Running her finger along a route on the map,
she shrugged.
"Reasonable extrapolation from your Mother, Father, and you?" She
leaned forward in the seat. "You're smirking, Mulder." Both dark
eyebrows arched, then he shook his head.
"Yeah. I should have seen this sooner. In the Cold War, the two
sides knew better was each other's government was doing than what
went on in their own. If the Colony were shape-shifters, then it
wouldn't be an extreme possibility that they were passing
themselves off as members of the Consortium occasionally to gain
inside information."
"On Sam? Mulder, this is beginning to sound more like the Dominion
and the Federation all the time." He shrugged.
"So? They claimed they knew where she was, Scully." She cocked an
eyebrow.
"They know she's alive, anyway, Mulder, which is good." He was
stock-still in the seat, so she tugged his arm. "What?" He
blinked.
"Try this finely tuned insanity on, Doctor. Remember that the
pheromones from the Kindred contained human DNA. What if part of
the reproductive strategy that led to the morphing ability
involves being able to incorporate foreign DNA sequences into
their own?" She pointed at an unmarked exit, so Mulder guided the
vehicle onto a single-lane side road. "No problems with all these
radical hunches, Scully?" She shrugged.
"Possibly. It's exactly what happens during gamete fusion." Her
cheek dimpled briefly at his blink of incomprehension.
"Fertilization, Mulder. Until we have more information on that
glowing DNA, you can speculate all you want. It's more likely,
however, that it was the victims' own bodies that were producing
the pheromones. That there are two extra bases to their sequences,
more or less knocks out any alien-human hybridization idea." After
weaving along the narrow alley onto Route 518, he glanced sharply
at her.
"Oh, how?"
"Well, it would be like trying to write Cyrillic with only English
characters, or English with the vowels left out." She studied the
fixed jaw. "We have the evidence, Mulder. We know how few the
changes are between normality and a host of disabilities in
humans. We also know the chimpanzee-human hybrids took years to
come to viability, if they do so at all." He fidgeted, supporting
his left temple with his thumb and forefinger while resting his
elbow on the window ledge.
"But, Scully..." She touched his right arm, draped over the
steering wheel.
"Mulder, I understand. We, as a species, always seek advancement
over stagnation or regression. The idea of alien-human hybrids
sounds alot like children from angels, and is infinitely
preferable to human-chimpanzee troglodytes." He shook his head.
"No, I don't mean the Great Chain of Being." He grasped the base
of the wheel with both hands. "You Darwinians killed that hoary
concept back in the Nineteenth Century. I just keep wondering what
those Purity Control experiments were really about." She lifted
one corner of her mouth.
"I couldn't begin to guess. But they must have known about the
extra bases; they had access to the same materials I had typed."
He chewed his lower lip, his mind racing.
"But should aliens even have DNA?" She waggled her hand.
"It's a fair question, since I wouldn't expect that our bug, if it
is silicon-based, will have any. But, from the evidence, I'd have
to conclude that they evolved on a rocky planet much like
ourselves..."
"Where clay compounds served the same function for them as they
did for the development of life on earth?" She nodded.
"Only, with evolution working differently on each planet, they
came up with six base pairs, rather than four. Exactly." She
glanced at him. "You're frowning, Mulder, what's wrong?"
"We still have no clue as the why the Shape-shifter is so
interested in X." Mulder jerked the wheel sharply to the left, and
Scully pushed on the dashboard with both hands.
"I'd better let you concentrate on the road, or we'll be observing
first-hand the answer to that old Scholastic's question." As the
truck hit another rut, he grunted.
"Right. You're no seamstress, as I recall, so we would check in
without the necessary tools to perform the experiment."
--o-0-o--
Lightning Creek Bridge
East Shore of Ross Lake
Ross Lake National Recreation Area, Washington
Saturday, 3:43 pm
Donna Whitehead stomped along after her fiance, scratched and
sore, the views out over the waterways in summer forgotten. The
two-person suspension bridge he was halfway across swayed in the
wind as she stepped onto the weathered wooden walkway.
"Dal!" She stood, akimbo. "I'm *tired*! Why are we hiking through
lunch? We don't know where we're going." The blond man was just as
fatigued, but the expression she saw on his face when he met her
eyes, was of barely contained terror. She ran to him. "Dal, what's
wrong?" He hugged her, then left one arm around her shoulders to
propel her forward.
"O-Donna, it'll be OK. We just have to keep moving. As long as we
follow the coastline, we'll hit Route 20 eventually." He tugged on
her hand. "I'm tired too, but..." He glanced out at the water,
lapping at the crossbeams of the walkway. <Between Ross Dam and
Diablo Dam, they should be able to keep the water levels down in
this reservoir, shouldn't they?>
"You think we'll be cut off by rockslides, don't you, Dal?" He
shook his head.
"I don't know. I just think we ought to get to some civilization,
soon."
--o-0-o--
END - Part 16 of 31 - ARCHAEA
================================================================
Mary Ruth Keller "Is it possible distain should die while
Alexandria, VA she hath such meet food to feed it,
Phone: (703)683-1599 as Signoir Benedick?"
mke...@universe.digex.net Much Ado About Nothing
================================================================