It was the best Meena had felt in weeks, and certainly better than she had felt twenty-four hours ago. It was as if she had never had morning sickness at all. She was full of energy, bounding out of the bed to greet the new day.

She saw all the signs she viewed in her patients at the hospital as she stepped into the shower. Her hair gleamed; her skin glowed with an iridescence unlike she had ever seen. She hadn't thought she was showing, but she could not button the fly to the five pocket jeans she had worn just two days ago. She settled on a dark brown skirt with an elastic waist and a warm cable-knit sweater when she went back to her room.

Meena made her way downstairs to the kitchen, fully expecting to see her parents at the breakfast table. She was a little disappointed when she didn't hear her parents familiar banter, and saw the covered plate on the kitchen island. "Your Mom and I had some errands to run this morning," The note said. "I know you might not feel well, but try to eat some of this. Love, Dad." Meena smiled at the next line. "PS - I've got War of The Worlds for later on. Date? We'll see you soon."

Meena had no problems finishing the half of a cantaloupe left for her consumption; she also made short work of the blueberries. Still ravenously hungry, she raided the fridge to find orange juice, a couple of cold chicken drumsticks, and a blueberry muffin. Still not satisfied, she eyed the breadbox, and wondered how wheat toast would taste heaped with vanilla ice cream and chocolate syrup...

Meena laughed out loud at the thought. She had heard all of the stories from all the expectant mothers she had cared for. The ravenous appetite; the strange cravings. And then, later on, the feeling of new life growing day by day. And it was all true. She could feel this being growing inside her, second by second; minute by minute. She wondered if it was like this for her mother.

"OK girlfriend, " she thought. "Pace yourself, or you're going to be the size of this house." She settled on another large glass of milk, and sat down to read the newspaper. Just as she opened the paper, the phone rang. In an effort to reach the phone without having to leave her seat, she leaned over and reached for the wall.

She didn't make it. And neither did the glass of milk.

Meena stood up, and got to the phone before the machine picked up. "Hello? I'm sorry - can you hold on for a minute?" Meena sat the cordless phone down on the counter, and hurriedly cleared away the wet newspaper. "I'll go out and get one later," she thought.

Meena never saw the headline and the story on the second page.

"Hello, sorry to keep you holding," Meena replied. "Can I help you?"

"Is doctor Mulder there?" asked the man on the other end. There was something vaguely familiar about the voice, but Meena immediately dismissed it. "I'm sorry - my mother's out on an errand. If this is an emergency, I can page her..."

"No, I'm sorry - I meant to speak with Dr. M.W. Mulder."

Meena paused for a second. She didn't know why. "This is she."

"Dr. Mulder, you may not remember me, but we met at a conference recently... The Janus conference in Arlington a couple of weeks back..."

Meena hesitated again, and again she couldn't figure out why. Then suddenly, an image flashed before her eyes - but it was so quick and fleeting...

"Are you there Doctor Mulder?" asked the voice on the other end.

"Yes, yes I am. How did you get this number?"

"Dr. Mulder, I hate to bother you at home, but I have some important information about the conference. It's an observation I've made and a theory at best, but.... I need to sound this out." "Go ahead, " Meena replied. "I'd rather not over the phone," the voice replied. "I can arrange to meet you.." "I'm not comfortable with that," Meena immediately replied. "Dr. Mulder... I

can assure you this is information that you will want, if not need to hear. We can meet at a place of your choosing. But I must meet with you." "I think I need to know who you are," Meena replied. There was a pause on the other end. "Either you tell me now," Meena demanded, "Or this conversation is over."

"Andrew," The voice replied, "Doctor Andrew Covington."

*********************************************

The Arlington Lakes mall bustled with the hurry of holiday shoppers. People rushed from store to store, looking for bargains if not for the perfect gift. The holiday display ranged anywhere from tasteful to downright tacky, all in an effort to get shoppers to part with their money.

Meena stood next to a bench in front of the fountain in center court. She scanned the crowd for the person she had finally agreed to meet -- even if she was meeting him against her better judgment. There was no sign of him, even after twenty minutes. "Women disappear every day by doing things just like this," she thought. Women whose sad tales of their unfortunate demise ended up on the 11'o clock news and whose families never saw them again. "You have got to be out of your mind, " she thought. She looked at her watch, and made a silent agreement to leave in five minutes. Or maybe ten. Even with all her fear and trepidation, she could not bring herself to walk away. There was something that drew her there, something that kept her there.

The possibility, no matter how remote, that she would get some answers.

She did not expect the person she was waiting for to appear from the direction he did, and she turned to face him just as he was about to tap her on the shoulder. "Dr. Mulder?" he asked. Once she saw her impromptu appointment, she remembered who he was. The good doctor was strikingly handsome with wavy, dark hair and chiseled features. But the thing she noticed the most was his striking blue eyes. The color of brilliantly blue sapphires, they seemed to stare straight through to her soul.

He extended his hand in a handshake. "Dr. Andrew Covington. Thank you for meeting with me." Meena nodded a welcome. "I know that this is a little unorthodox, but..."

Meena was able to pry herself from his handshake and his gaze, and immediately took charge. "Dr. Covington, I feel it only fair to say this to you now before we go any further. I have a date with my father and mother which I have every intention of keeping. You should know that both of them are ex Federal agents who are still licensed to carry firearms. You should also probably know that both my uncle and Godfather are retired military. If

I don't come home and/or come home with as much as a broken nail, they will hunt you down like a rabid dog in the night." She motioned to a little girl who was eating an ice cream cone a few feet away. "You have as long as it takes for her to finish eating that to tell me what you have to say."

Doctor Covington motioned for her to sit down. She did, and he took his seat. "As you know, " he began, "we were part of a group of doctors invited by Janus biomedical research to participate in a conference on multiple births, more specifically, the anomalies and similarities that can surround births of this nature." Meena nodded her head in agreement. "There were twenty male participants and twenty female," he continued. Meena motioned to the little girl and her ice cream cone. "She looks like she's a hungry little camper, Dr. Covington, "Meena said, "I suggest you skip a couple of pages."

"Shortly, very shortly after the conference, I began to notice things. I began to have severe headaches that were preceded by brilliant flashes of light.." "Sounds like a simple migraine diagnosis, " Meena replied. "Unfortunate, but not out of the ordinary." "That's not all doctor," he continued. "At the height of these headaches, I would see flashes of... images. Of a room... lights... shadows of people."

Meena's heart stopped cold.

"I began to call other participants in the conference, " Dr. Covington continued. "I began with the males to see if any of them had experienced the same symptoms. They had."

Meena's head began to spin. She looked anywhere, everywhere for an escape. She looked to her left; the little girl had reached the very end of her ice cream cone. Here was her out.

Meena stood up. "This conversation is over. I'm sorry, but I don't know what you're talking about..." "I think you do," interrupted Covington. "I have known you all of the eight hours we spent at the conference and I'm not even including this conversation," Meena snapped. "Don't dare presume to make judgments about what I know or don't."

Meena turned to leave. "How far along are you, Dr. Mulder? You're pregnant, aren't you?"

"How dare you?!," Meena began, "And you weren't before the conference, were you?" Covington continued. "In fact, I'd venture to say that all of your tests have come back saying you're farther along than you thought."

Meena stared in amazement at Doctor Covington. "I'm halfway through my calls to the women who were at the conference. The ones that would answer have all reported the same thing." Meena sat down in disbelief. "There are other women...?" she began. "It goes without saying that we are the victims of something that took place during that conference," Covington replied. "And I want answers. I suspect you do as well."

Doctor Covington reached into his jacket, and pulled out two tickets. "There is a Doctor Allison Broadstreet in Atlanta who was at the conference. She's agreed to meet with me; with us to tell her story. I took the liberty of buying you a ticket, Dr. Mulder."