Divide

by Seda

Category: XA

Rating: PG

Archive: Let me know where, please.

Spoilers: All of the mytharc, through Patient X specifically. Pre-movie.

Author's Note: This story follows "Terminus," a story I wrote last May in which Mulder and Scully parted ways. It's not necessary to have read that story first, but this story does make references to characters and events that took place in "Terminus," in case you're confused. If you'd like to read that story first, it can be found at Anna's site: http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Labyrinth/1495/recommend.html (be sure to check out the rest of her amazing site, also!) or at https://www.angelfire.com/ny/ladiesofthenot/Terminus.html

Summary: After leaving the FBI for a job in the private sector, Scully becomes the target of a mysterious stalking, along with nine other women across the country. Mulder intervenes to try and solve the case; meanwhile, Scully believes her colleague has made important discoveries about the implant that could help in Mulder's quest for the truth.

Feedback: Will be much appreciated; send it to: reseda@aol.com

Disclaimer: The characters that you recognize from the X Files belong to Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, Fox and their respective attorneys. Characters created by the author belong to the author and as such, do not need to be paid union scale. They are, however, copyright by the author and if you think they resemble real persons you're right.

Thanks, Anna, for nagging me to write and giving my stuff a home away from home.

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Divide

Shoshone National Forest, Wyoming

The Milky Way arched across the black sky like a luminous vapor trail, the only illumination the heavens offered on a night devoid of moonlight. The season of fireflies and sunset's glow lingering long into the evening had passed, and this deep in the woods no glare of city lights competed with starlight.

A truck's headlights pierced the thick blanket of darkness, and the crackle of dry leaves under turning wheels broke the still silence of the woods. The engine's growl ceased and the headlights faded as both doors opened and then quickly slammed shut. The pinpoint light of a match gave fire to the wick of a kerosene lantern, and the flame was coaxed upward by the dark-haired woman who ministered to it. "It's just a quarter of a mile from here," she told her companion, raising the lantern slightly to see the other woman's face. "Can you manage your bag all right?"

The other woman nodded, rubbing her hand over the bandage on the back of her neck. The stitches itched. She fumbled for, then switched on her flashlight. "I'm fine. Let's go."

Less than ten minutes later, they were at the door of an old log cabin whose small windows spilled amber light into the void of night that surrounded it. The woman opened the unlocked door and she and her companion entered the house's warm, sheltering brightness.

Seven women were gathered, laughing, talking, and eating, in a semicircle around the radiating warmth of a blazing fireplace. They each looked up as the two women entered the room. A small woman with chestnut curls and glasses stood, her arms opening to embrace the newcomer. "Ruth, welcome. We were so worried about you."

Ruth Jacobsohn stepped back from the embrace, her brown eyes filling with tears as she looked around the room. "It's so good to finally see your faces."

A woman with cropped platinum blonde hair and a merry smile stood and took her hand. "We feel the same way. I'm Stella."

"Stella," Ruth whispered.

"I'm Helen," the woman who had embraced her said, taking Ruth's jacket from her shoulders.

Ruth nodded and looked at each of the women as they introduced themselves, reciting their names like a litany.

September 30

11:45 PM

Georgetown

Scully had no idea how long her phone had been ringing when she finally got her front door open and raced for the phone through her darkened living room.

"Dana Scully," she said, breathless.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Mulder?" She wasn't sure what surprised her more, the fact that he was calling her, or that after only four months apart, her former partner's voice could sound so unfamiliar.

"I just found out tonight, Scully. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Well, number one you were out of town, and" she stopped herself, not sure why she had to justify this. "Mulder, it's a lot to go into over the phone-" she sighed, turning on the lamp beside the phone. She glanced at the front door, which still stood ajar, and felt her heart pound with unexpected panic.

"I'm coming over," Mulder told her.

"Mulder, it's late-"

He ignored her protest. "I'm in a car across from your building. I'll be up in two minutes."

"What have you been doing, staking out my place?" She inhaled sharply as he brushed past her into her apartment, the familiar smell of his old leather jacket an unexpected reminder of their own late night stakeouts in rented cars.

"Yeah, I bribed that rookie agent to let me take his shift," he quipped, inspecting the deadbolt on his way in.

"If I'd known it was you I would have brought doughnuts," she grinned.

Mulder tried his key in the lock. Satisfied that it no longer fit, he slammed the door shut and threw the bolt. "Scully, what the hell were you doing out so late?" he asked.

Scully flinched at his tone, her brow furrowing in annoyance. "Working in my lab, Mulder. Am I allowed?"

"Why aren't you in a safe house?" Mulder asked insistently, inspecting each of the window's latches. "I can't believe Skinner doesn't have you in protective custody."

"He tried that, but I refused," Scully sighed, kicking off her two inch pumps and plopping down on the couch. "He spent the last two nights on my couch. I kicked him out. The man snores like a bear."

Mulder shrugged off his jacket and deposited it on a chair. "I reamed him out for not letting me know sooner," he said.

She cocked her head. "And now you're here to ream me out for-what? Not cowering in my house like a frightened rabbit?"

He sat down hard beside her and leaned in. "I can't believe you're downplaying the danger here! Someone got into your house, Scully. Is Duane Barry that dim a memory that you can afford to be blasé about your own safety?"

Something in her eyes hardened and she shoved him out of her face as she stood. The last thing she needed was him bringing up reminders of that. Inhaling deeply, she turned. "Don't come here and tell me how frightened I should be, Mulder, and quit acting so affronted at not being brought in on this. You're not the victim here."

The tension between them broken, they both sighed, realizing it was four months of silence and separation fueling their tempers, not the current situation. Mulder took her hand and squeezed it gently. "I'm sorry."

She sat back down beside him.

"It's hard to break the habit of caring what the hell happens to you," he said quietly.

"I know," she whispered, leaning against him briefly. "Look, I had no way of knowing the Georgetown police were going to call the Bureau on this until Skinner showed up on my doorstep. I guess they figured since I was a former agent-"

"Skinner doesn't think it's related to one of our cases?" Mulder asked, settling back on the sofa.

"Who knows," Scully shrugged. "It just doesn't make sense."

Wincing at the hard bulge against his back, Mulder un-holstered his gun and placed it on the coffee table. "Tell me everything. I've got all night."

After bringing in coffee for both of them, Scully recounted the story for him.

"It started about a week ago, with what seemed like crank calls, late at night. I didn't think anything of it at first, but after about three days, I reported it to the phone company. They said they'd put a trap on my line, but the number they managed to capture doesn't ring anywhere. In any phone system."

"Did the caller ever say anything?" Mulder asked.

"Never," she said, shaking her head. "Sometimes I could hear what sounded like some kind of electronic static or feedback on the line, but neither the phone company or the police department ever managed to get a decent recording of it."

"What about the Bureau? Have they tried?"

"The calls stopped before the Bureau got involved," Scully said. "I wasn't really spooked until this past weekend. I was followed home from my mom's." She shuddered, recalling the persistent glare of headlights in her rearview mirror, like watching eyes in the night. She'd taken a circuitous route home, but after two hours of false turns, the car was still on her tail. The driver hadn't even tried to be inconspicuous.

"It was almost as though whomever it was wanted me to know I was being followed," she told him. "He wasn't trying to find out where I lived or run me off the road-he was just following, watching." She stood and began pacing the room. The next part of the story still made her restless, even after telling it dozens of times to police and Bureau investigators. She folded her arms across her chest and rubbed her arms, chilled.

"The very next day I came home from work and found a dead bird-a sparrow-on my doorstep. I assumed a neighbor's cat was just leaving me a present, but when I came inside, I immediately knew something was wrong." She stopped pacing and stared at the bedroom door. "There was a note on my bed, Mulder. With a quote, "not one of them is forgotten before God."

"That's biblical," Mulder said, leaning forward.

"I know," Scully said, sitting down again. "That's when the Georgetown P.D. called in the Bureau. Evidently I'm not the only woman in the country who's received similar messages."

Mulder's reeling thoughts were played out on his face. "What's the pattern? Are these other women being stalked? Which department has this case, anyway?"

Scully raised her hands as a shield against Mulder's barrage of questions. "All I know is it's been bounced from one department to another. VCU doesn't want it, because there hasn't been an actual homicide or assault-yet."

Mulder stood and resumed her pacing of the room. "Probably just a matter of time before it became an X File," he muttered. "Only now it never will."

Scully nodded. "They'd never let you work a case where you ex-partner was a target."

"Not even if I signed over my firstborn to Reno," Mulder quipped, biting his lower lip pensively.

"Mulder, don't put yourself out on a limb here. Law enforcement's been so thick around me the last few days, I think whomever was doing this has been scared off. Things have actually been quiet. I really don't think I'm in any immediate danger."

"You can't be certain of that, Scully. What about the other women? What's the connection? What do all of you have in common?"

"What makes you think we have anything in common?" Scully sighed. "Mulder, I know where you're going with this. Don't shape the facts to conform to your theories. You could be led astray."

"Scully, don't tell me it hasn't crossed your mind."

"What, Mulder? That all these other women are abductees too? What are you basing that on? Have you even read the case file?"

"Why are you automatically ruling it out?" he pushed.

"I'm not, Mulder, it's just-" Scully looked at her watch and sighed. "I've got to get to bed. I've got a 7:30 conference call." She stood abruptly, collecting their coffee mugs as she rose.

Mulder nodded, acquiescing to her resistance. The idea was too sensitive, and probably too terrifying, for her to consider. "If you don't mind, I'm going to stay here tonight."

She turned around, exasperated.

"I know you don't need protection," he said, raising a hand and smiling. "It would just make me feel better."

Giving him the familiar Scully 'I don't believe this' smirk, she turned and headed for her bedroom. "Whatever. Just keep the snoring down."

October 1

New York City

57th Street

1:14 AM

A spiraling tendril of smoke rose toward the walnut-beamed ceiling as the man spoke, his words measured, yet his tone insistent.

"This acceleration of the timeline can only have disastrous results for The Project. Our technology is still at least five years behind where it needs to be to ensure success. That is, assuming-" he took a long drag on his cigarette and exhaled. "That our goal is nothing less than perfection."

"Our hand has been forced," the First Elder's quiet voice replied impatiently. "History has never waited for mankind to be ready for it."

The smoking man watched his colleagues nod in acquiescenceand flung the smoldering stub of his cigarette to the floor in anger. Their lamb like acceptance of the current state of affairs astounded him. Their grayed heads bespoke of decades-lifetimes-devoted to planning and perfecting the next epoch of human history. Now they were abdicating that responsibility, that power, out of desperation. Deluding themselves into thinking they could still prevail.

"You're letting them call the game. The agenda's changed-without our consent-and if you proceed as intended, they will have us exactly where they want us-on the defensive!"

"Good God, man, you talk as if we have the power to do anything but play by their rules," a crisp British voice spat at him. "It was a Faustian bargain from the outset-we can't afford the arrogance of believing otherwise now!"

"My friends, we don't have the luxury of discussing this academically," the First Elder reminded them sternly. "Only history will know the truth."

The room was silent as the old men absorbed his words.

"How many Sources remain?"

The Smoking Man lit another cigarette. "Less than half of the original group." He studied the dwindling flame of the match thoughtfully before extinguishing it. "Last spring's conflagrations severely depleted our resources."

"No matter. The raw material has been collected."

"It's not that simple," the smoker corrected him. "Over seventy percent of the merchandise is still defective. Immunological disorders, pernicious anemia, cancer. Not what you'd call a master race, by any stretch of the imagination."

The First Elder shot him a ferocious glance. "How do you intend to correct the situation?"

The Smoking Man lifted an eyebrow. "I offered you my solution four years ago." He stared at the carefully groomed man with white hair who paced nervously by the draped window. "But as you'll recall, I was vetoed. What was it you called it? Inhumane?"

The First Elder shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "We can't afford the exposure of any more flawed merchandise. Gather the remaining Sources."

The British man glared at them in protest. "Doing that will only exacerbate the FBI problem. You realize that."

The Smoking Man laughed heartily, sending himself into a violent coughing fit. "My friend, you've been out of touch far too long on your 'blessed isle'. Recent events have turned in our favor. All our energy spent trying to divide and conquer…ultimately, it was the natural course of events. Even so, Mulder thinks he knows the demons he's battling, these days. Properly informed, even he would rather resist than serve an alien god."

"You men are barbarians and fools," the Well-Manicured Man accused them in disgust. Your attempts to manipulate him in the past have only proven he'd gladly sacrifice himself for the truth."

"That meets our goals precisely," the First Elder replied.

"Not quite," the Smoking Man contradicted. "It's not a martyr you need, gentlemen, but a Moses. Convince him he's found the truth and he'll lead his people right into your arms. An army of true believers wouldn't be a bad thing to have in your camp for the next millenium."

2:13 AM

Mulder awoke from a half-sleep, startled. A door had creaked somewhere in the apartment. He slowly reached over toward the coffee table for his weapon, ready to spring to his feet, when he saw the outline of Scully's figure emerge from the bathroom. She had a glass of water in her hand.

"It's me, Mulder. Go back to sleep."

"Who said I was sleeping," he muttered. "You okay?"

She debated a moment, wondering whether to tell him the truth. That she hadn't slept well-not what she considered well-for nearly ten months now. She sat down on the arm of the couch. "I don't know. I seem to be having these recurring dreams about being late for a meeting, or I wake up in the middle of the night feeling like I'm supposed to be somewhere else."

Mulder sat up. "Sounds like an acute case of job stress." She could hear the smile in his voice. He reached over and turned on the lamp, squinting against the brightness.

"Can't blame it on ForenTech; it's been going on since I was at the Bureau."

"How is the job, Scully? Are you happy?"

"Work is good," she replied. "I like the research, my colleagues are wonderful. I'm always challenged."

"You have a desk. A whole office, even," he grinned.

She looked down at the water glass. "Mulder, whether you want to believe it or not, I wasn't looking to leave the Bureau. I was content."

"Liar."

She meet his eyes. "Sometimes you don't realize what your life is missing until something comes along that points it out to you. This job was a gamble I had to take, Mulder. For my own sanity, I had to prove to myself that I could still be the kind of scientist I wanted to be."

He nodded in understanding. "I'm glad you're happy, Scully."

"But you'll never be happy for me."

Mulder shifted uncomfortably. The truth of that statement was undeniable, and he didn't know how to respond except in the oblique. "Sometimes you don't realize what the good things are in your life until it's too late. And once they're gone, I guess there's never any way to be happy about that."

5:57 AM

The phone's ring jarred Scully from a sound sleep. She sat up groggily and reached for it.

"Hello?"

"Well, good morning, Red!" a deep voice boomed from the other end of the line. "Did I wake you?"

Scully grinned sleepily, barely aware of Mulder standing in the doorway of her bedroom, looking concerned. "Doctor Berelowitz, I presume. So… you're in town."

Mulder backed out of the room, suddenly feeling like an intruder.

"Just barely, and have I got a surprise for you! Whatta ya say to 8 AM down at HQ? You, me, and my latest scientific wild-ass guess?"

Scully swallowed hard. She rose from the bed and reached for her robe. "So you think you've got a theory about the chip?"

"I got some interesting study results is what I've got." Scully watched Mulder pacing in her living room.

"Okay, I'll see you at the lab. And Seth, let's make it 9, I've got the morning from hell. Department head call, first thing."

"You got it, babe." With a click, the line went dead. Scully shook her head in amusement. Seth Berelowitz had appointed himself her designated big brother at ForenTech over the last four months. He had somehow managed to make her feel as if she'd known him for years. She doubt he realized how much it meant to her to have the clarity of another scientific mind working alongside her. There were so many answers she needed, and so little time to find them. The haunting sense of time running out was what drove her along a different path, these days, toward the same truth as ever. She wrapped her robe more closely around her and tied it securely. Down the hallway, she could see Mulder was rummaging through her kitchen drawers, probably on a desperate search for coffee. He was still in the tee shirt and boxer shorts he had slept in, perfectly immodest and perfectly at home. Something tightened in her chest.

He glanced over his shoulder and noticed her staring at him. "Someone from work?"

"Seth Berelowitz," she replied, entering the kitchen. "You met him in Seattle."

"Oh yeah," Mulder nodded, fumbling to rearrange a drawer he had disrupted in his search. "Big guy. Seemed nice enough."

"He's an excellent scientist," Scully said, finding the coffee and filters for him. "He tends to balance out my wilder theories. It's a good thing."

"Yeah, I know," Mulder said quietly.

She met his eyes for a lingering moment, then glanced away.

Scully was in the shower when the doorbell rang fifteen minutes later. Mulder opened the door to the face of the last person he wanted to see.

He smirked sardonically. "Greetings, young Skywalker."

"What the hell are you doing here?" Agent Spender asked, shoving past Mulder and into the apartment.

"Protecting Agent Scully from a potentially dangerous stalker. Why the hell aren't you?"

"Doctor Scully has refused both police and bureau protection on numerous occasions, as I'm sure you're aware. Where is Dana?"

"Getting ready for work," Mulder replied, regarding him disdainfully. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to inform her of a development in the case that she should be aware of."

"Such as?"

"You're not working this case, Agent Mulder."

"Keep up your bumbling and I could be, very soon, Spender," Mulder taunted.

"Don't give me this shit, Mulder. I've got nothing for evidence here but a dead bird and a handwriting sample. This case happens to involve ten women in seven states and the Bureau doesn't want to throw resources at a bunch of stalkings and one missing person report."

Scully entered the room unnoticed by both of them. "Missing person?"

Spender turned to face her. "Ruth Jacobsohn. A university professor and mother of two from Chicago. No one's seen her in over seventy-two hours."

ForenTech, Inc.

9:14 AM

Scully's heels clattered noisily on the highly-polished floors of the lab. A dark-haired giant of a man in a white lab coat turned at the sound of her footsteps and opened his arms to her in greeting.

"Heya, gorgeous!"

Smiling, Scully glanced self-consciously around the empty room. Seth Berelowitz's brown eyes danced mischievously behind his tortoise-framed glasses, and his thick curly hair was an unkempt tousle, the only sign that he'd spent the night on a red-eye from Seattle to D.C.

"Tell me you didn't come all the way here just to show me this," Scully asked, her tone carrying a warning. As a new supervisor, she didn't relish the thought of explaining a travel expense like this to the V.P.

"Nah, I've got a pow-wow with ole tightass later on this morning."

Scully did her best to suppress a smile. "Reichardt?" ForenTech's Vice President of Research Operations wasn't particularly well-liked by his managers.

"Yeah, I got a crabby memo last week about my department's 'overages'. Tell me how on earth these accountants get to be senior V.P.s, Dana."

"Someone's got to watch the bottom line, I suppose," she replied as diplomatically as she could. She had made a decision months ago to steer clear of ForenTech's considerable internal politics. She'd had her fill of that at the Hoover Building.

"So, what have you got for me?" she asked, changing the subject ungracefully.

"I began with the report you sent me of the examination the FBI did on the implants about two years ago."

Scully nodded, recalling Agent Pendrell's findings. "He said it acted as a micro-processor, collecting data and replicating certain neurological processes."

"I believe that was on target. When we implanted the chip in lab rats we saw a significant increase in several brain hormones; an increase we did not observe in the control group."

Scully examined the blood test results. "What about behavioral changes?"

Seth shrugged. "Sleep cycle disturbances seem the most prevalent; we're taking a look at the effects on memory effects right now. Given the elevated hormone levels, it's not surprising."

Scully let out a long breath.

Seth folded his arms across his wide chest. "Dana, you don't seem surprised by anything I've just told you."

"I suspected the chip had to have some effect. I just wasn't sure I'd ever be able to get scientific confirmation of that hunch." She glanced through the reports he had brought. "You also did a genetic analysis of the blood from the Seattle women-"

"Yes, and as you suspected, the FBI's lab results were flawed." He found the report in the pile and handed it to her. "We found single-strand DNA in every sample. Is your friend at the Bureau still looking at this chip in relation to that case in Seattle?"

"Who, Mulder? No. Not formally, at least."

"Well that's a relief, because I'm having a real hard time making a connection between these women's deaths and this microchip. I thought that's where you were going with this." Seth's brow furrowed in confusion. "So this is just academic at this point, or-"

Scully inhaled deeply. "Not exactly. You could say it's personal interest." She glanced at her watch and winced. "It's a long story. I could buy you dinner tonight and bore you to death with it."

Seth raised his eyebrow. "Should I get permission from my wife first?"

Scully slapped his hand. "Thanks for all of this, Seth." She headed for the door, mentally mapping out the rest of her day. Somewhere in the crush of meetings and paperwork she had to find time to update Mulder on this.

2:12 PM

FBI Headquarters

While the photocopier whined and flashed it's way through the stack of paper he'd fed it, Mulder scanned through the case files he'd stolen from Spender's office. He figured outright theft was more expedient than pestering Skinner to allow him access to the case, and in the long run he was doing the department a favor by helping to get the case solved. So far Spender was spinning his training wheels, Mulder thought in disgust as he leafed through Scully's file. He hadn't even referenced her abduction in 1994. He ground a sunflower seed, shell and all, between his molars in anger. Spender probably made it a point to ignore the X Files entirely.

His cell phone rang suddenly, making him jump. Glancing quickly over his shoulder, he set another stack of paper in the document feeder before answering it.

"Mulder."

"Mulder, it's me. Are you busy right now?"

"Um, just catching up on some copying and filing."

"Mulder, I've got something interesting to show you. Any chance you can you make it over here this afternoon?"

"I don't know, Scully, I've gotta re-file this stuff before five. How about tonight? I've got some faces and names I want you to look at, see if anything rings a bell."

"They don't have a suspect yet, do they?"

"'fraid not. What have you got for me?"

"Let's just say it's a rather interesting lab rat."

"Okay, how about 8 at your place. You show me yours…"

"Yeah, sure, right. Eight o'clock."

Scully hung up the phone and smiled up at the tall, lanky figure of Vassily Reichardt, her boss. He had an uncanny way of appearing out of nowhere, sometimes, and there was something almost ghostly about his white-gray hair and pale complexion. His deep-set, steely blue eyes pierced, even through the highly reflective lenses of his round silver-rimmed glasses. The convex lenses made his eyes look larger than they were, and his long, pointed nose completed the owlish look. He was rocking back and forth on his heels and grinning, as he usually did when he had something to talk to her about. She'd decided over the last few weeks that it was a nervous habit. It was almost as if he needed to work up the courage to talk to her. He didn't come down from the administrative offices on the twelfth floor often-only when it was absolutely necessary. Scully wondered if he felt out of his element overseeing research scientists. Like Seth, she couldn't understand why she reported to a financial officer and not a fellow researcher.

"Making dinner plans?" he smiled.

"Vas, have a seat," she offered, pointedly not replying to his query. "How can I help you?"

Reichardt continued to rock forward and back on his heels, but did not sit. Scully had observed that he often used his imposing height to reinforce his authority. He rarely sat or made himself comfortable.

"I trust all is well in Pathology?"

"Yes, very well," Scully replied.

"You and your researchers have sufficient resources to conduct your work?"

Scully glanced around at her posh office, wondering what kind of a question that was. "Yes, absolutely."

"Glad to hear it," he said, tapping a folder against the gleaming lacquered surface of her desk. "Don't hesitate to ask if there's anything you need. We value the entrepreneurial spirit of our researchers. We'd hate to see a valuable investigation not be pursued because someone felt they didn't have the staff or equipment to tackle it," Reichardt smiled.

Scully nodded. "I'll keep that in mind."

Reichardt nodded in reply, tapping the folder one last time before he turned for the door. "Ah, I almost forgot to ask-did the police ever come up with anything on the break-in at your house?"

There was a long pause while Scully pondered both the question and the reason for asking it. Paranoid, she chided herself. "Not yet," she replied, rising to her feet.

"Well, I hope they solve it soon. So you can rest easy."

She placed her hands on her hips. "I have every confidence it will be."

The Seaport Inn

Alexandria, VA

6:15 PM

Scully slipped the research file into her briefcase as the waiter poured the wine. Seth lifted his glass in a toast.

"To the health and happiness of my esteemed colleague."

Scully lifted her glass. "Likewise." She took a sip of wine and sighed. This was the first she had managed to relax since her encounter with Reichardt this afternoon. Maybe Mulder's paranoia had rubbed off after all their years together, but she'd been strangely unsettled by Reichardt's behavior. Until today she'd barely noticed he existed.

"Well, I came through my meeting with Herr Moneybags fairly unscathed," Seth announced, as if reading her mind. "He slapped my wrist for getting lax with my expense reports, but he seemed to know better than to tangle with me. He knows where his bread is buttered."

Scully nodded. "Mm. He paid a rare visit to my office this afternoon, too. I thought he was going to reprimand me for assigning you this research project, but he almost seemed to be encouraging it."

Seth shrugged. "Why wouldn't he want us researching this chip?"

She stared down at her wine glass. "Seth, my interest in this chip goes beyond what happened to those women in Seattle. I have one just like it implanted in my neck."

Seth's eyes widened. "I see."

"Like I warned you, it's a long story…"

It was a story she'd never dreamed of telling another scientist, for fear of being laughed off, discredited. Her choice had been to ignore it altogether. Until Cassandra Spender. She had tried to forget, about Betsy Hagopian, about Penny Northern, but Cassandra had made that impossible. Four words had haunted her since their meeting, words which brought into keen focus their shared experience. I want to go. Scully had dared not ask where. It wasn't a question she wanted an answer to.

She left all of these fears out of the story she told Seth, but the compassion she saw in his eyes told her he'd already inferred the emotional weight of all she had told him. It was a shade of the same concern she saw in Mulder's eyes every time he pleaded with her to confront her experience. Maybe that was why she'd trusted him implicitly, almost from the moment she met him.

"I know anecdotes aren't science, Seth, but they're all I've had to go on."

He smiled wisely. "All science begins in human experience, Dana. That's how Debra explains my job to our four-year-old, essentially. 'Daddy searches for your whys.'"

Scully sighed deeply, relieved that he understood.

"Dana, why don't you come out to Seattle and work with me on it? It's gotta be killing you not to have your fingers in this."

She shook her head. "I've had my fingers in it too long, Seth. It's a matter of objectivity, or lack of it." She shrugged. "I am, after all, a subject in this study."

Georgetown

8:20 PM

Mulder spread the contents of the bootlegged file out on Scully's kitchen table for her to examine. Presenting his case, as ever.

"Not wanting to soil his hands or his reputation by consulting the X Files, our boy Spender has missed a critical link in the cases of the other women who were being stalked. All of these women belong to a virtual think tank called Hypatia."

Scully's brow furrowed. "Virtual?"

"Yeah. Instead of holing up at a conference center somewhere, they conduct their discussions over the internet. These women are on the extreme fringe of intellectual discourse in physics, philosophy, mathematics, theology, psychology, artificial intelligence, you name it. Their mailing list is notoriously secretive and notoriously impossible to subscribe to."

Scully raised an eyebrow. "Then how did you find out about them?"

He stared at her, straight-faced. "They sent me a chain e-mail."

Scully tilted her head, unsmiling. "For real, Mulder."

"About two months ago Langly, of all people, got an e-mail he was instructed to pass on to me. It was insane, Scully. The thing was quadruple-encrypted and routed through so many mail servers, both real and bogus, that it was nearly impossible to trace the origin. They wanted my insights on the psychological profiles of alien abductees. Apparently they'd been following my career."

Scully folded her arms and smirked in amusement. "So, are you on the list now, Mulder?"

"Nah, they only wanted me for my brain. They cut me off as soon as I'd answered their questions." He leaned forward, an excited glint in his eye. "But not before the Gunmen were able to trace about nine of the e-mail accounts on the list to real persons. Realizing they'd never get any of these women to write back, much less date them, the boys just filed away their names for future reference."

Scully rose and paced to the coffee maker to refresh her mug. "So what's your theory here, Mulder? Someone got a hold of the same list as Langly and started stalking these women?"

"Yes, and worse. Hypatia doesn't work for anyone, Scully, but imagine how valuable that kind of brainpower would be to the government or a multinational corporation? This group publishes their monographs under pseudonyms in public-domain forums that bring them no remuneration or individual recognition. They can't be bought…"

Scully nodded, seeing her way clearly to his conclusion. "So if someone wanted to exploit their talents for their own gain, they'd have to take it…take them, by force."

"I think it's even more sinister than that. I think there are people out there who would rather suppress that kind of intellectual talent, if they couldn't get them to cooperate."

Scully returned to the table and sat down, rubbing her eyes. Her mind was reeling in an attempt to put all this together, to connect it logically to her experiences over the last weeks. The phone calls, the headlights in her rearview mirror, the dead bird and mysterious bible passage; somehow she held all this in common with a group of women she'd never met.

"But Mulder, beyond the circumstances of these stalkings, I still don't see the connection between them and me."

"I think the connection has something to do with your abduction four years ago and these women's questions about alien abduction."

"Are you inferring that these women have had abduction experiences?"

Mulder sighed. "No, but I'm not ruling it out, either. Maybe these women know something that the government, or someone else, wants to suppress. Maybe they got a little too close to the truth and now someone wants to scare them into silence."

"If that's the case, Mulder, then where do I fit in?" She shrugged. "Who am I a threat to? I don't even work for the FBI anymore."

"You may not work for the FBI, but you're still investigating X Files, Scully. Only it's on your own terms. Unencumbered by me." He indicated the file folder that lay beneath her folded hands. "Isn't that what this is about?"

She cleared her throat softly. "Mulder, I told Seth Berelowitz about the chip in my neck. He's the only one I've told. I felt it was only fair he know I have a personal stake in the research he's doing."

"Do you trust him?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Is he telling us anything new, Scully, or just confirming what we've known all along?"

"Hard scientific data on how this chip affects the body is something new, Mulder." She slid the folder across the table toward him. "Today he showed me blood work that revealed significant biochemical changes induced by this object. And that may only be the tip of the iceberg. We've never had any hard proof that these implants effect the health of the people who have them, but now there's a very good chance that we could get the scientific evidence we need. No matter how much we've seen, how much we've experienced first hand, without proof no one's ever going to take us on faith, Mulder."

Mulder chuckled, glancing through the file eagerly. "Listen to you."

She looked at him strangely.

"Us…we. All this time I thought you'd left the FBI to pursue your own career, find your own truth."

Scully glanced away, then looked back at him, her expression serious. "I want you to keep this file safe. In case anything does happen to me."

Mulder reached across the table and squeezed her hand. "Nothing is going to happen to you, Scully."

She nodded. "Still, knowing how our…" she caught herself. He was right. FBI or not, she couldn't divorce herself from the X Files. "How our evidence seems to always disappear…"

Mulder nodded, adding the folder to his pile. "The Bureau thanks you for your assistance, Doctor Scully."

The Smoking Man took a long drag on his cigarette as he listened to his colleague on the other end of the line. Things were proceeding precisely as planned. Their mastery of the game had the opponent playing unwittingly into their hands. Perhaps there was something to the old adage "divide and conquer" after all.

"The beauty of this, Mr. Reichardt, is that legally the corporation owns the research. That places you well within your rights to seize all documentation immediately. I'll be waiting for confirmation that you've been successful."

He hung up the phone and exhaled, thoughtfully contemplating the smoldering end of the cigarette. It was almost a pity, that it had become this easy. He was beginning to miss the challenge of the old days.

9:42 PM

Scully was engrossed in the Hypatia Group's file when the shrill ring of her phone startled her. It was Seth.

"I've got good news and I've got strange news."

Scully grinned. "Okaay-"

Seth's tone was serious. "Dana, I went back to the lab tonight and Reichardt called me into his office. He demanded that I turn over all my current research. Company property, he said."

"What?"

"I know, it's insane. I spent an hour in his office this morning and he never once even asked me what I was working on."

"What possible interest could he have in this?" Scully asked, half to herself. She was fearful of the first answer that came to mind.

"I have no idea," Seth replied. "Look, Dana-the complete data files of the research I gave you today is on the Seattle office's FTP server. I want you to download them now, before Reichardt does. I gave him last week's password-that oughtta stall him for awhile."

"Okay." Scully moved to her computer and booted it up. "Give me the numbers again."

"207.78.34.198."

"Ready. Login and password?"

She completed the download of a dozen files, to Seth's deep sigh of relief.

"Safe and sound. The good news is, Dana, before Reichardt pulled the plug, my research assistant discovered this chip has some pretty incredible effects on the long term memory centers of the brain. I slid his fax under your office door tonight. Reichardt doesn't have a copy. Yet."

"I'll go over and get it right now. Can you meet me somewhere to go over the findings?"

"Not unless it's the airport." Reichardt also told me to go home. As in the next flight out. Dana, he had me escorted out of the building. What the hell is going on here?"

Scully was staring at the computer screen, her mind reeling. "I don't know, Seth. I don't know."

She hung up the phone and stared at it for a moment, then looked back at her computer screen. A familiar number began running through her mind. She ran back to the kitchen and grabbed the copy of her case file Mulder had left. It was a long shot, but it was something. They'd traced her calls to a number that rang nowhere in the phone system, but the internet was a much larger place…

10:34 PM

The lock on Spender's office door sprung open with an assured click, and Mulder stepped inside quietly. Now that he was familiar with Spender's filing system, this was going to be a hit and run, he mused. He flipped through the top folder in the inbox. "Jackpot," he whispered. He only had to read two paragraphs of Spender's latest report before he got seriously nervous.

He dialed Scully's cell phone number without thinking. "Scully, Spender lied to us. All of these women are missing. No one's been able to make contact with the other women in the group for over a week, but no one's filed a missing person's report on any of them, either."

She had just pulled into ForenTech's parking lot and noticed a light on in Reichardt's office. "Yeah, well, I've got some news too, Mulder. My boss commandeered all of Seth's research earlier tonight and ordered him back to Seattle."

"You're kidding. Why?"

"I don't know how or why, but I think Reichardt's one of them, Mulder."

"Scully, whatever you do, don't leave the house. You could be next in line."

"It's too late. I'm outside ForenTech now. Seth had some new research faxed here. I've got to get it before Reichardt finds out about it."

"Don't go in there, Scully. You don't know who you can trust there anymore."

Scully glanced up at the twelfth floor windows again. Probably just the cleaning woman. "Mulder, I'm going to meet Seth at Dulles airport in half an hour. Meet me there and we'll sort this all out. Gate 22B."

Mulder cursed as the line went dead.

In the corridor outside her office, Scully flipped through her key ring, looking for the one to her office. A door slammed behind her and she jumped.

Rosa, the building's cleaning woman, had emerged from one of the other offices. "Ola, Doctor Scully. Did you forget something?"

"You could say that." Scully sighed in relief and unlocked her door. A large brown envelope lay just inside the doorway. She crouched down to inspect the contents as Rosa wheeled her supply cart past the door, the scent of cleaning solution and furniture polish following it. Scully glanced up at the sound of elevator doors opening at the far end of the hallway. Vassily Reichardt stepped off. He seemed surprised to see her.

"Working late, Doctor Scully?"

In one fluid motion, Scully stood, tucking the folder under her arm and pulling her office door closed. She was suddenly glad she'd worn her shoulder holster. "I forgot some paperwork."

It had only taken the lanky Reichardt six strides to close the distance between the elevator and her office. He was smiling a smile that she didn't trust. "Funny, I need to see you about some paperwork."

With an enormous crash, the cleaning cart suddenly fell over. Behind it, Rosa was clutching her chest and struggling to maintain her balance. She fell to the floor, not breathing.

Scully flew into action, shoving the cart out of the way and screaming at Reichardt, "Call 911!"

She rolled the woman onto her back and leaned over her to listen for breath sounds.

"He'll kill you," Rosa whispered.

Scully looked at her, startled. There was urgency in the woman's eyes. And she had lost her Spanish accent. She glanced over her shoulder. Reichardt was turned away, speaking into his cell phone. Clutching the barrel of her gun, Scully rose to her feet and brought the butt end of it down hard on the back of his skull. He dropped instantly, the phone skidding down the hallway.

Rosa was on her feet, shoving the envelope against Scully's chest. "Run!"

Inside the elevator, the two women looked at each other.

"He would have been worth a bullet, but that's your prerogative," Rosa said, breathless.

"Who are you?" Scully asked.

The woman laughed. "Well, obviously not the cleaning lady."

Dulles Airport

11:13 PM

Mulder watched every passenger board flight 3011 for Seattle. Seth Berelowitz had not been one of them, and Scully had not made their rendezvous, either. His heart was pounding like a trip hammer. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed her number, for the ninth time that hour.

"Come on, Scully, pick up."

She heard the phone's persistent ringing in the briefcase on the back seat of the car. Mulder's probably panicked, she thought.

"I was supposed to meet my colleague and my ex-partner at Dulles half an hour ago," she told the woman.

"Agent Mulder?"

"How do you know him?"

"He did some consulting work for me and my friends. Bright guy. Very strange."

Scully glanced over at her. "What do you mean, 'consultant work'?"

"I don't suppose the word Hypatia is unfamiliar to you by now."

"You're one of them."

The woman smiled. "Yup. The few, the proud, the brainy broads. We've been hoping to recruit you for years. We thought you'd never quit the Bureau."

Scully shifted in her seat, suddenly uncomfortable. "Sounds like someone's been stalking me for more than a week."

"You could say we've kept tabs. We were concerned about contacting you while there was a chance we'd draw federal attention. And with that partner of yours practically attached to your hip, well…" She glanced over at Scully and noticed she wasn't smiling. "I'm sure he's a nice guy and all, but for our purposes, he's a pretty cumbersome appendage to have to deal with."

"And what are your purposes?" Scully asked.

She didn't reply.

"Look, if these are your recruitment tactics, I'm not sure I want to join this club. I don't even know your real name." She was growing annoyed at the woman's arrogance and obtuseness.

"Look, I'm sorry for the cloak and dagger stuff. Raina Rodriguez. I'm a research chemist from San Diego, California. I was sent to invite you on a little vacation."

ForenTech, Inc.

11:39 PM

Mulder flashed his badge at the front door of ForenTech's offices. A throng of law enforcement personnel had collected in the lobby and there was an ambulance in the parking lot. He hadn't seen Scully's car. Spender approached him from across the room. He was carrying an evidence bag with a piece of white notepaper inside.

"She's not here, is she?" Mulder asked through clenched teeth.

Spender raised his hands in a defensive posture. "Someone--Vassily Reichardt--called 911 from this building about an hour ago. Said there was a woman down. But the paramedics arrived and found Reichardt unconscious outside Scully's office."

Mulder looked over at the grey-haired man being tended to by paramedics. "Has anyone questioned him? Has he seen Scully?"

"He said she was starting CPR on the cleaning woman when someone hit him from behind. He didn't see anyone in the building besides Doctor Scully and the cleaning woman."

"What about the security cameras?"

"They've been off line since 10 PM. We've got nothing."

Mulder clenched his teeth, breathing hard. "I'm gonna go check her apartment."

"Georgetown P.D.'s already been there. They found this outside her doorway--" He held up the evidence bag.

Mulder snatched it away and read the note. Another bible quote. He grabbed Spender by the throat and rammed him up against the reception desk. "You could have prevented this!" he snarled. "All of these women, not just one, have disappeared in the last week, and you did nothing to protect Agent Scully. You ignored the facts, and so help me God, Spender, if one hair on her head is harmed, I'll kill you!"

Walter Skinner pushed his way through the throng of onlookers and seized Mulder by the shoulders, pulling him off Spender. "That's enough!" he shouted. "If one of you hasn't put out an APB on her car by now, you're wasting precious time! Has anyone done it?"

Mulder pulled out his cell phone and dialed the Virginia highway patrol, still glaring at Spender. His head was pounding, the note's mantra-like phrase swirling in and out of repeating stabs of pain. Ye shall know the truth, ye shall know the truth, ye shall know…

Victor, Idaho

2:08 AM

"We'll be crossing the Divide in about an hour. I think we should change drivers," Raina said, yawning. "You must be tired."

Scully pulled her mind out of it's reverie long enough to respond. "Yeah, I guess I am."

Raina put a hand on her shoulder. "You okay?"

Scully offered a small smile. "Yeah. You've given me a lot to think about, that's all."

She turned on her signal and pulled off the road. They stepped out of the truck and stretched their legs, inhaled the crisp mountain air.

"Dana, if you have so much as a shred of doubt about this, you can turn back now. The group is adamant about this; no one comes or stays unless they're completely willing to be there."

Scully looked up at the blackness of the sky. The stars seemed less distant here. "I've come this far, haven't I?" She heard Cassandra Spender's words echoing in her head, strangely prophetic. She looked over at Raina. "I want to go."

Scully climbed into the passenger seat while Raina rummaged through her bag in the back seat.

"Got your door locked?" Raina asked.

Scully shifted to check it and felt a sharp sting in her shoulder. "Ow! What-"

"Just something to dull the pain, help you relax and sleep."

"What pain? What are you talking about?" Scully asked, panicked.

Raina handed Scully the empty vial she had just injected. "You know well enough that this is harmless. You have to trust me on the rest, Dana."

Scully recognized the drug as a sedative and local anesthetic. It was working quickly. Why on earth…

She heard the snap of latex gloves and saw, through heavy lidded eyes, a flash of moonlight reflected off the blade of a scalpel.

TO BE CONTINUED…