***

Monday morning

Slowly, as if emerging from a deep well filled with muck and mire, Scully
broke the surface of consciousness. Her head ached, the pain exacerbated by
her prone position. When she tried to turn over on her side, she realized that
she was in restraints.

She forced her eyes open. Light flooded her pupils and made her squint until
she adjusted to the brilliance. Thin white curtains, the kind she had seen in
a hundred hospitals, partitioned her bed from the others in the room. She
could see faint outlines of other women, ghostly images that made her shiver
even in the warm, bright sunlight that poured over her from a barred window.

The bed creaked as she tried to wrestle free of the straps that held her down.
Scully froze, listening to the footsteps that grew ever nearer and watching a
walking shadow loom ever closer.

Sister Michael parted the drape and stood next to Scully's bed. "You're awake.
Good." She put her bony fingers on Scully's wrist and took her pulse, then
felt behind her head. "It's just a little bump."

"Doesn't feel little when I'm lying flat like this." Scully's voice felt rusty
from lack of use. A tickle at the back of her throat turned into a cough and
she strained against the leather straps until the spasm passed.

To her surprise, Sister Michael loosened the restraints at her wrists and she
was able to pull herself upright. Her vision swam for an instant, then the
world righted itself and she could see that she was still dressed in the black
sweater and pants she had worn the night before. Pursing her lips, she looked
up at her erstwhile sister. "How long?"

"You slept straight through the night. We restrained you because we wanted to
make sure you didn't suffer another unfortunate fall."

"We?"

Sister Michael's smile seemed forced. "You must have some idea about how
special you are, Dana. Surely you realize that many, many people have an
extreme interest in your well-being."

"My well-being." She scooted further down on the bed and started to undo the
straps around her ankles. "By tying me up like a dog."

"By ensuring that you're cared for by the only people who know exactly what
happened to you in the fall of 1994."

Scully's fingers froze on either edge of a buckle.

"No. They're all dead. Betsy, Penny..."

"There was more than one experiment, Dana. This has been going on for years,
since before you were born."

"Hybridization." Scully resumed work on the straps until her ankles were
freed, then stood on unsteady legs to face her captor. "But I read in Amanda's
notebook that the consortium was getting rid of anyone who could possibly be a
hybrid. That's why they had Teena Mulder murdered, because her life was saved
by...by someone of unknown origin."

"Colonization doesn't seem to hold the same appeal to the remnants of that
group. They're trying something different - a vaccine against the black oil."
Sister Michael put her hand around Scully's elbow and held it tightly. "That's
what makes you so valuable, Dana. You've been exposed to both the oil and the
vaccine, and you survived. Your children will be the first to come from this
combination, and that makes you different from the others."

"I'm not going to be different for long, though, am I?" Scully gestured with
her free hand at the other women, who lay unaware of their surroundings,
unaware of their very bodies. "You're going to use me the way you did them."

"It's likely that they'll want to try one more time to make a true hybrid. I,
for one, am very curious to see what your children will be like."

Scully's eyes slid shut and she lowered her head. "And if I refuse to
cooperate? Do I have an 'unfortunate fall' down some convent stairs? Or do you
take the chip and let me die of cancer?"

Sister Michael loosened her grip and turned slightly away. "That's not for me
to decide. What I can tell you is that no harm will come to you if you
cooperate."

"Is that what happened to Sister Rosario? To Amanda? They didn't cooperate?"

"Amanda was their doing - she was considered dangerous, especially after she
explained her role in that murder to Sharon. But I never wanted harm to come
to Rosario. She was...she is my friend." Sister Michael's thin face took on a
haunted expression. "That was an accident. It wasn't meant to happen that
way."

"Was she one of these women?" Scully asked gently, not wanting to lose the
advantage of Michael's sudden vulnerability.

"Yes," the nun replied. "She gave birth to a beautiful little girl. I named
her Petra, after Rosario's mother."

"And she has no memory of this?"

"They sleep through the entire procedure, from conception to birth and for a
few weeks afterward. Periodically, their bodies are exercised by machines, so
that when we awaken them they are more or less in the same condition they were
when we started. That's when the men from the project come. The ones who
implant the memories of a retreat, down to the meals that were served and the
names of the other women who were there." She looked over at Scully, her mouth
quivering. "I'm not proud of what's done here, Dana. But it's the only way to
survive."

"Oh, my God." Scully swallowed and took a deep breath. "Did they do this to
you?"

Sister Michael's eyes filled and she blinked rapidly. "Twice. I was close to
giving them what they wanted the first time, but my son died. They tried again
and said that it was more successful, but they wanted to keep going until they
had the perfect child. What made it difficult was that I'd had the wrong
vaccine."

"I thought I had the only vaccine..."

"No, the smallpox vaccine. The lots were different, made that way in the hopes
that one version would be the right one. Records were carefully kept. Every
man, woman, and child who was given that vaccination was cataloged, and those
people whose vaccine turned out to be the 'right' one were deemed to be the
subjects worth taking."

A flash of memory assaulted Scully: Pendrell leaning over his microscope,
showing her the different markers in the vaccinations, leaving her with no
explanation for the thousand questions that bubbled in her mind.

She and the others had been marked from childhood, preordained to suffer this
horrible fate.

Scully lowered her head, studying the marks her fingertips made on the rumpled
white sheets. "Why weren't your memories erased?"

"They tried. I don't seem to be suggestible to hypnosis." She turned away,
facing the sunlit window. "The only thing separating me from death was that I
had enough medical background to help them. They needed someone on the inside.
If I hadn't agreed..."

"They would have removed the chip. Or worse." Scully walked slowly over to
where Amanda Broadman lay. "How did she get here?"

"I don't know." Sister Michael's countenance was careworn and weary. "I just
came in yesterday afternoon and found her here, like this. It doesn't seem as
if they're going to try a procedure on her, does it? She's not on Lupron, just
a glucose drip."

"No. It looks as if someone's trying to let her recuperate. And I'm pretty
sure that if you could do an x-ray, you'd find a new chip in her neck." Scully
gazed into Sister Michael's eyes, trying to read her feelings. "Casey knows
that he's her son."

"Oh, dear God." The nun's hands started to shake. "How did he find out?"

"I can't be sure, but I'm assuming that he was poking around in the files and
came across his name. He's a bright boy - he was in the infirmary for a week
with the chicken pox and was probably bored enough to go exploring when our
backs were turned."

"It wasn't supposed to be like this. We were supposed to be helping, saving
people from colonization." Sister Michael sat down heavily on the side of an
empty cot. "I know what I have to do to survive, to see my own son again. But
I don't want to do it, Dana. I know it's wrong and I know that God will punish
me."

Scully seized the advantage, taking the nun's hands in her own and holding
them firmly. "You don't have to do this. We can walk out of here and we can
get help."

"I can't."

"You can. You must." She pulled the rosary beads out of her pocket and
fingered the wooden cross lovingly. "It's what He expects of us."

"And what about what I expect?"

The intrusive male voice made both women flinch. Scully straightened her
shoulders, knowing before she turned around who the real enemy was.

The stench of cigarette smoke came as no surprise.

"You." Scully strode to the smoking man and stared into his hooded eyes. "I
thought you were 'cleaning up' the project, not administering your own
clinical trials."

He took a long drag on the cigarette, holding it between his thumb and
forefinger in a practiced gesture that was unhampered by the sling that held
his arm close to his body. "I have many responsibilities. One or two may be at
odds with one another, which gives me room to make decisions as I see fit."

"More decisions than any of these women were given. They came here to serve
God."

"Who's to say that I'm not doing His work?"

Scully fought against her surging anger, tamping it down and taking a calming
breath. "Your group took us against our will, experimented on us and made us
sterile, then implanted a device that could either control our will or give us
incurable cancer. That's God's work?"

The smoking man shrugged his good shoulder. "God gives us earthquakes and
floods, Miss Scully. He lets disease run rampant. He allows innocent lives to
end in pointless accidents every single day. What's the difference?"

"The difference is that people aren't dictating the victims of these
disasters. You SELECTED us, you marked us from the beginning and lay in wait
for us." She raised her chin and glared at him defiantly.

"You wish you'd killed me when you had the chance, don't you, Miss Scully?"

"It's crossed my mind."

"Dana," Sister Michael said in a low, warning tone.

Smiling faintly, the man extinguished his cigarette against the floor, his
sole leaving a crescent-shaped trail of greasy soot as he stubbed out the
embers. "Believe it or not, I never planned on this. When you began
investigating Teena Mulder's death, it never occurred to me that we'd have an
opportunity for this...conversation." He leaned toward her, close enough for
her to feel the fetid breath on her cheek. Scully could feel the piercing gaze
directed at her but refused to meet it, defying this attempt to gain more
power over her. "Something was taken from you. Something you didn't know you
wanted until it was gone."

Scully, alert even though her dread was turning to terror, remained silent.
Her posture was rigid, military, and she kept her eyes on the smoking man as
he continued his flood of poisonous words.

"I'm in a position to give you what you want. The technology is right here in
this very room. You're an interesting candidate for this experiment, because
your ova were normal when they were removed but your bloodstream now contains
both remnants of the black oil and also the vaccine against it. That's a
powerful combination." He regarded her for a moment, his expression a cold
mockery of compassion. "You like being in power, don't you?"

"It's my right to make decisions about my body." Scully pointed an accusing
finger at her nemesis. "You and your people took that away from me and
everyone who was taken for your project."

"Those are brave words coming from someone in your situation." He paused long
enough to light a second cigarette. The flame from the lighter reflected from
his pupils, making them glow for an instant like a cat's, or a demon's.
"Believe it or not, I have a great deal of respect for you. And as a sign of
that respect, I'm going to give you the power to choose."

Scully saw Sister Michael's shadow draw nearer, the rustle of her habit all
that broke the surreal stillness of the room. "Are you offering me a deal?"
Scully asked in a brittle voice.

"Of sorts. One thing is not negotiable, and that is your participation in this
project. I'm not willing to give up entirely on hybridization, and you're the
most likely candidate to give us what we need. You don't think much of the
deal so far, I know. But here's the other non-negotiable aspect. No matter
what you decide to do, your life will not be in danger. I'm not willing to
have Mulder bring down the heavens in revenge."

"So if I say no..."

"That's not one of your choices. One way or another, you will undergo the
procedure. You will be treated with the hormone, given an embryo made from
your own ova, and you will give birth to a child. The choice I'm giving you is
simple: we can treat you like all the other women...or we can let you keep
your memories."

Scully's heart pounded and she had to struggle to keep her breathing regular.
"I..."

"Afterwards you will need to remain at the convent and take your final vows,
of course, and of course your letters will be censored by the good Sisters.
But you will be allowed to see your family - with a chaperone, you understand
- after you return from this 'retreat.' I could even arrange visits from
Assistant Director Skinner." He gave her a knife's edge of a grin. "Or Agent
Mulder." He put his free hand on her shoulder, whispering into her ear. "Your
reward will be the memory of this experience, this experience that you can
never have any other way."

Don't scream, Scully told herself, the objects in her vision narrowing and
darkening as she felt panic crawling under her flesh.

Don't scream.

Sister Michael stared at the unlikely tableau before her. "What about her
child?"

"Oh, she'll be the child's caretaker. Its physician. Its guardian." He cut his
glance back at Scully, coming in for the kill. "It won't be the way it was
with Emily."

Scully recoiled as if from an electric shock. She could still feel Emily's
body cooling against her skin, transmuting from fever's cruel burn to the cold
nothingness of death, and her own hot anger, anger turned to ice.

"Emily was made from my ova as well. How do I know that this child will be any
different?"

"Her birth mother was injected with a trial version of the vaccine. It was not
only ineffective but it also caused the...unfortunate birth defect that took
Emily to an early grave. I have it on good authority that using the donor as
the birth mother produces far more satisfactory results." He reached as if to
touch her but she took quick steps backward and braced herself against the
supply cabinet.

Images of Emily's coffin assaulted Scully's eyes even as she glanced over at
the featureless stone wall at the back of the room. The coffin had been full
of sand, slipping through the fingers that held her cross aloft. Mulder had
been there beside her. He had touched her not with his body but with his
heart, his anguish almost as great as her own as he watched her suffer, as he
watched her remembering her child's suffering, as she stared into a coffin as
empty as her own hopes.

Harsh, hollow laughter rang in her ears along with the rush of blood. "Surely,
it's a good offer. A child of your own, carried in your body instead of that
of a stranger, left under your care and conservation."

"Until you take it away for whatever needs you have."

"Or not." He stubbed out the second cigarette. "After all our exploits, I just
might enjoy watching this portrait of domestic bliss for a very, very long
time."

Pale and shaken, she looked into the eyes of evil as he spoke once more.

"It's the only way, Miss Scully. Make your choice."

***

To part 2