***
Scully stared at Gibson's grave, concerned face, then looked upward
and noted
that the horrible scars she remembered were now masked by a mop of
unruly
hair. Gibson returned her gaze. "I'm glad to see you, Agent Scully,"
he said
in his peculiarly adult voice. "But I'm sorry that you're here."
"Gibson. Are you...?"
Amanda interrupted as she sat up in bed and swung her legs over the
edge,
opening her arms to hug the boy. He submitted to the embrace without
response,
his focus never leaving Scully. "I got here as soon as I could. I had
to take
care of the others, first. They were sick." He twisted out of Amanda's
arms
and stood between Scully and Sister Michael. His fathomless eyes searched
Sister Michael's face. "You didn't do it to her yet, and you don't
want to."
She turned away from him as if embarrassed. "I don't have a choice."
"You will." He gestured around the room. "All of you will."
"Help me understand, Gibson," Scully entreated. "Amanda told us you
were
taking care of the sisters whose implants had been removed. But who's
helping
you?"
"The clones. They heard what was being done, that the conspirators
were
shutting down the Project that made them. And me." He rubbed his nose
with the
cuff of his sweater, at last looking like the young boy he was. "We
decided to
stop them."
"Where did you get the new chips?" Scully put her hand at the base of
her neck
as she had a thousand times since the day her cancer had gone into
remission,
checking for the implant the way she used to count her fingers and
toes first
thing in the morning when she was a little girl. "Mulder stole mine
from the
Department of Defense."
"We got the data that the Project had been keeping on all of the abductees.
We're learning how to fight what they've done. We can fix almost anything,
now. So we came back here. The Kurts want to save their mothers, and
the
mothers of all the rest of the clones."
Scully took Gibson's hand and he watched her thumb with curiosity as
it
smoothed the veins under the cool, soft skin. "I saw two women disappear
into
a beam of light. That's not Project technology, is it?"
The boy shook his head.
"Who's helping you, Gibson?"
He paused, obviously considering whether he should answer the question.
After
a few tense moments he whispered, "Them. The ones you call 'greys.'
I found
one when your partner and that other woman left me in the reactor core.
We
communicated. It told me that it was time to stop the Project. I told
you I
could communicate with them."
Scully waited, frowning, as she allowed the pieces of the puzzle to
assemble
themselves in her mind. "That's the place you took the women? To
their...ship?" The word tumbled unexpectedly from her lips.
"It was noisy and it made a lot of light, but it was the best way to
get them.
No one could stop us." He delivered this extraordinary information
in a
matter-of-fact tone as he walked around the ward, looking at the
expressionless faces of the unconscious women. At last he got to the
bassinets
in the corner. His finger stroked the newborns' cheeks, one after the
other,
with the gesture of a young boy. "They're close, but they're not like
me."
"None of them have ever been like you," Sister Michael whispered.
A shiver worked its way up and down Scully's spine and she put her hand
over
her mouth, her eyes sliding shut to hide the tears that threatened
to spill
out. With her other hand she reached blindly for Sister Michael, feeling
the
thin, strong fingers closing around hers.
...They tried again and said that it was more successful...
Scully felt an overwhelming rush of pity for this woman, who had been
in her
situation and knew no way to escape. She opened her eyes, suddenly
aware that
her musings were audible to Gibson.
"You don't have to try and hide your thoughts, Agent Scully. I know
she's my
mother. My birth mother," Gibson amended. "Those people in the Philippines
were chosen to watch me, but they didn't treat me like their child.
They just
wanted to get rich off of my chess playing. I've never been anyone's
child."
He indicated the slumbering babies. "They'll never be anyone's children,
either. That's why I want this to stop."
"They'll be back for the babies soon. We need help to keep them from
being
taken away. Will you help us?" Sister Michael gazed tenderly at her
son as she
pleaded for his assistance.
"Why are you so interested in them now? You've been doing this for years
and
years." His tone was dispassionate, incongruous with his round, childish
face.
"Because up until now, you were the only one. You were safe. But if
they go
through with this, if they do this to Dana..." She straightened her
back, her
hands adjusting the cross she wore around her throat. "If there's another
child, someone they think is closer to the perfect 'specimen,' they'll
kill
you. And I couldn't bear that. I want all of this to stop. Please."
Gibson looked at her and chewed his lower lip. "The Kurts are going
to follow
me here. Where can we wait?"
Scully stood up and pointed to the area where she had been kept. Gibson,
his
pace unhurried, walked to the open door. Just as Scully strode behind
him,
hand extended, he turned around and whispered to her: "Don't worry.
I know
they're under the mattress. I won't read them."
In spite of her fear, she smiled.
***
Wednesday morning
***
Sister Michael and Scully had no difficulty in looking busy while they
awaited
the arrival of the bounty hunters. The two babies were hungry, demanding
constant feedings and changings, and their cries kept both women occupied.
Scully checked the remaining patients while Sister Michael kept a close
watch
on Amanda to make sure she stayed in bed and pretended to be asleep.
Before noon they heard men's footsteps in the corridor. Scully busied
herself
with an IV line while Sister Michael made notes in a baby's chart.
"You've done a good job," the first man said as he peered over Sister
Michael's shoulders. "We're ready to begin the tests." He pulled out
a small
blood typing kit and took out a needle.
Scully backed away from her patient, placing herself between the men
and the
babies. Just as she did so, the door to the other room opened with
a shrill
squeal of the rusty hinges, and half a dozen men ran into the room.
They moved
so quickly that Scully could scarcely make out a blur of red hair as
the Kurt
clones grappled with the morphing men. She heard the wet, blunt entry
of the
picks as both clones were hit at the base of the neck, and threw herself
across the bassinets as she remembered the terrible effects of the
fumes.
"Everyone, get out! Help me get the babies out of here! It's poisonous!"
Scully cried above the din.
"Wait!" one of the Kurts shouted as he and two others spread clear,
filmy
shrouds over the two melting bodies. The hissing died away and the
noxious
cloud dissipated. "This will contain the...detritus."
Another Kurt stopped in front of Scully. His mouth worked, his eyes
drinking
in her face. "It's her," he whispered, not even turning his head.
The others crowded around her, keeping their hands to themselves but
staring
at her as if they could understand some great mystery just by memorizing
her
face. Scully, tears in her eyes, put her hands out and touched each
man's face
in turn.
Hybrids. Clones.
Made without her knowledge, without their consent.
Hers, but not hers.
All she would ever have.
Amanda got up from the cot and drew her blanket around her shoulders.
She
reached for Sister Michael, holding on to her and crying. "It's over,
it's
over, it's over..."
"It's not over. He'll come back. The smoking man." Scully forced herself
to
remain calm. "We've got to clean this place out. Remove every single
file,
every scrap of their work. And we'd better do it fast because you can
be sure
he knows that two more children were born."
The Kurts started pulling drawers out, handling with ease the frozen
vials.
Scully closed her eyes and turned away, not wanting to see the destruction
of
something that could have been so precious to her.
Sister Michael touched her on the arm. "Dana...what about the other women..."
Scully's face crumpled.
As did the door.
Dust flew from the hallway, from the splintered wood. The Kurts and
the women
put their arms in front of their faces to shield themselves from the
choking
swirl. "Hands where I can see them!" was the unison shout of half a
dozen
voices.
"No! Wait!" Scully pushed herself in front of the tall men who tried
to
protect her with their bodies. The haze was dispersing enough for her
to make
out faces in the crowd.
Lieutenant Brophy, the SWAT commander who had helped her track Mulder
when he
was in the clutches of Robert Modell.
Skinner, gun drawn, in perfect firing stance.
Mulder.
Across Mulder's face Scully could see a kaleidoscope of emotions: fear,
anger,
sadness, swirling into focus and becoming relief.
In three strides Skinner crossed the room and put himself between Scully
and
the Kurt clones. "Is everything all right?"
"For the moment, sir," Scully said, her voice sounding reedy in the
aftermath
of such chaos. "But Cancer Man will be back." She heard Mulder's footsteps
growing closer and felt the sudden rush of blood to her cheeks. Unable
to face
him, she fixed her gaze on Skinner. "How did you know? Did Sister Joan
find
you?"
"She got to headquarters last night. I don't know how she did it, but
she did,
and she told us what you'd found. I may have busted some asses getting
a
search warrant for this place, but I should've busted them faster."
"He was here. Cancer Man. He's part of what's behind this."
They turned around to survey the ward, the babies who squirmed in the
heat and
the dust, and the women who lay peacefully unaware of the turmoil around
them.
Or in them.
Mulder's voice broke the stillness. "Scully?"
At last she turned to face him, Skinner's hand keeping a firm, comforting
grasp on her shoulder. She could read the question in his eyes, the
mixture of
horror and hope that was a perfect mirror of her own conflicted emotions.
She shook her head.
Mulder gave her a rueful smile, swiping his hand over his eyes and up
into his
hair.
Skinner's hand tightened, a reassuring squeeze. "Brophy, go get Sister
Joan.
And track down the Mother Superior. Try not to arrest her if you don't
have
to."
"Yes, sir." Brophy paused for a moment. "It's good to see you, Agent
Scully.
Doctor Scully. Uh...I'm...I'm glad you're okay."
"Thank you," she said, smiling at his obvious discomfort.
Sister Michael and Amanda were already dragging boxes of papers and
charts out
of the cabinets. "There's an incinerator downstairs. Everything needs
to go in
it. If there's no trace of the Project..."
"It might not be enough." Skinner looked at the Kurt clones. "Who the
hell are
you?"
"Part of the Project, sir," Mulder said, coming closer to them. "I met
them in
Allentown. They're the ones who uncovered Scanlon. The ones who told
me what
was done to Scully."
"I was one of the ones who met you there." The Kurt who had started
covering
up the bounty hunters stepped out of the group. "We're here with someone
you
know."
Gibson peered around the corner before entering the room and walking
up to
Mulder, who sat on his heels and put his hands on the boy's shoulders.
"I
thought...I was afraid..."
"You thought I was dead. You and that woman both. But I'm not. I came
back to
help them." He stopped, turned toward Amanda, then faced Mulder again.
"You're
angry that I saved her. I'd have saved your mother, too, if I'd been
able to
get to her in time."
"You can do that? You can heal people?"
As he spoke, Sister Joan entered the room. She was using the stiff,
white part
of her wimple as a makeshift splint around her left wrist. Scully immediately
ran to her and embraced her, careful not to jar the injured arm.
"I fell into a ditch when I was hitchhiking into DC," the nun explained.
"Let me look at it," Scully said, her eyes bright with gratitude, but
Mulder
shook his head and then inclined it toward Gibson.
The boy went to Sister Joan and took her hand gingerly before rubbing
his
fingers over the break. Sister Joan hissed as if in pain, then her
face
relaxed and she let Gibson unwrap the bandage.
The bruises went from green to purple, then faded in to the olive of
her
complexion. There was no swelling.
Sister Michael gasped and crossed herself.
As if he had done nothing out of the ordinary, Gibson walked away from
the
astonished Sister Joan and went to Scully's side. He looked up at her,
blinking owlishly behind his glasses.
"I can heal you, too," he said in a matter-of-fact tone.
Scully bent over and kissed him on the forehead. "I know you can, Gibson."
His voice was small and sad. "You don't want me to."
"I appreciate the offer. But no, I don't."
He nodded, then turned his attention to Skinner. "Are you going to arrest
that
woman?"
Skinner regarded Amanda, his mouth turned downward. "I wish I could,
but we
don't have a shred of concrete evidence."
"I'm sorry," Amanda said, her gaze lowered. "I wish I could take it
back. I'm
sorry. But I can't do anything; I can't bring her back."
"We can't change what you did," Kurt agreed. "But you can make it right.
Come
with us. Help us." He looked at her with compassion in his bright blue
eyes.
"There are so many lives to save."
Amanda's countenance brightened. She looked nervously from Skinner to
Mulder,
and back to Skinner, who said, "Can you live with that, Agent Mulder?"
Scully beseeched him with her eyes. Forgive. Forgive.
"I..." Mulder took a deep breath. "I can live with it."
Tears of gratitude fell down Amanda's cheeks and she hid her head on
Sister
Michael's shoulder. The nun crossed herself and turned to Kurt. "I
want to go
with you, too. I've done things...terrible things. Please. Let me atone
for
these sins."
"Come with us," Kurt said, his hand extended toward the two women. He
looked
at Scully again, a curious smile playing around the edges of his mouth.
"I'm
glad I got to see you."
She could only nod, as she did not trust her voice. As she watched the
Kurts
gather up their weapons, she saw from the corner of her eye that Gibson
returned to Mulder and said something to him that she could not hear.
Mulder
smiled at him, ruffled his hair, and whispered something in return.
There was a roar, as if they were under an enormous train, then there
was a
long flash of impossibly brilliant light.
Gibson and the Kurts were gone, along with Amanda and Sister Michael.
Slowly, the remaining people in the room regained their equilibrium.
Scully
heard the Mother Superior's voice as Brophy led her up the stairs.
"This is a
storage facility - there must be some sort of mistake. Who...?" She
strode
into the room, her mouth falling open in horror as she saw the unconscious
women and all the medical equipment. "I...no one ever...I..." Her fingernails
clicked hard against the wall as she slowly slid downward to her knees.
With
an anguished cry she folded her hands in her lap and said, "Dear Lord
in
Heaven, what happened here?"
Scully knelt beside her, taking the work-worn hands in hers. "It's a
long
story, Reverend Mother. But it's over now, and you'll be safe. All
of you."
"Dana, I didn't know!" The Mother Superior's voice cracked as she wept.
"All
of them...they were under my care and I failed them."
"You had no way of guessing what went on here. Please don't blame yourself.
It'll be all right."
Mulder's expression was sorrowful as he asked the question that was
on all
their minds. "What happens to them, Scully?"
She closed her eyes for an instant, rubbing the bridge of her nose.
"Start
getting ambulances here. We're going to need neurologists, ob/gyns,
and a lot
of trauma counselors." With trembling lips she whispered to the Mother
Superior. "They'll need to be wakened and told what's been done to
them. It's
their right."
"And the children? Can they still stay here?"
"I hope so, but that's for the courts to decide. Meanwhile, you need
to gather
the Sisters and find some way to tell them what's happened, that they
may be
victims, too."
The Mother Superior looked up at Skinner. "That man. The one who tried
to kill
Sharon. Will he be back?"
Skinner, hands on hips, frowned slightly, looking out the window before
replying. "I have no doubt that he'll try. We'll have agents here to
protect
you. If he comes back, I don't think he'll be stupid enough to endanger
you."
The Mother Superior clutched Scully's hand. "You protected us, Dana.
Even
before you got your calling, you were here for us and you saved us.
I believe
with all my heart that you were called by God to this place."
Scully's head drooped and a single tear fell on the crumpled fabric
of her
sleeve. Only the sound of her breathing, a slight, hitching sob, broke
the
silence.
"Dana, I would like it very much if you would finish what you started."
What she started.
She looked at Mulder, at the silent sorrow in his eyes.
She looked at the crucifix the Mother Superior wore.
She spoke.
***
To part 4
