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CHAPTER 13

System #1

"I've swallowed some far-fetched stories before . . . but this?" Fox Mulder murmured into his cup of coffee. He took a gulp, then finished with a chuckle, "This is *way* out there."

Across from him in the restaurant booth sat a balding man, who was a little on the chubby side, and was slightly taller than Mulder. Despite Mulder's little effort to lighten the mood, the man didn't let go of the grave expression that gripped his face.

"Mr. Mulder," the man persisted, "I assure you, this is very real."

*This has to be a joke,* Mulder commented to himself.

"Really? Then why does this make no sense? The government conspiracy is dead, and I can't imagine what in the world it would want with parallel universes, or systems, or whatever you're calling them. Where's the logic in all this?"

*"Where's the logic?"* Mulder smiled inwardly. *I'm turning into Scully . . .*

"Let me finish my story, Mr. Mulder."

"Please do."

"There's a fundamental principle that seems to guide all the systems that we've encountered." The man reached into his shirt pocket, and pulled out a quarter.

"Heads or tails?" the man offered.

Mulder gave him a doubtful look.

"Humor me, Mr. Mulder. There is a point to this."

"Heads."

The man flipped the quarter and caught it. Without looking, he slapped it on the tabletop, and drew his hand back to reveal the tiny image of George Washington stamped on the coin.

"In this instance, you won," the man commented. "But somewhere, in a parallel system, under nearly identical circumstances, I won. In another, perhaps the coin fell on the floor and rolled away where we couldn't find it, and a child will pick it up later and put it in his piggy bank. There were almost limitless possibilities behind the toss of this quarter.

"That is how the systems work. There are infinite systems, for infinite possiblities in various choices. Following that principle, there is at least one system in which the conspiracy is still active, and therefore its plans are continuing."

"Supposing you're right, what interest does this parallel conspiracy have in manipulating these . . . gaps?"

The man smiled knowingly. "Have you ever wondered how all evidence relating to the existence of extraterrestrials just seems to disappear into thin air? And if extraterrestrials did exist in our universe, shouldn't there be some very obvious evidence of their existence? The government surely can't hide *everything.*"

"You're saying that there is no evidence of the existence of extraterrestrials . . . because they don't come from here?"

"Exactly. They come from one of the other systems."

At that moment, they heard the door of the diner swing open. Turning, Mulder spotted Scully making her way to the booth.

"You're just in time for the fun," Mulder said dryly when she got there.

Warily, she eyed the other man.

"Dare I ask what kind of fun?" she muttered just before she slid in next to Mulder.

"Should she be here?" the man asked.

"Absolutely," Mulder firmly answered.

"Well . . . I do have access to some evidence, if you'd like to see," the man dangled hopefully.

*Something in the way he said that didn't sound right,* Mulder thought. But, curiosity got the better of Mulder:

"I'll bite," he conceded. "What is it?"

"A top-secret government facility where all the gaps are monitered." The man grimly smiled and added, "We nicknamed it 'The Hub.'"

"Where?"

"In another system. It wouldn't take more than an hour or two, if you have the time."

"You still haven't told me how you found us out here. How do we know this isn't a trap you've set for us?" Mulder argued.

"You don't."

"We'll need some time to consider it," Mulder tried.

The man lowered his head a trifle as a police car drove by the front of the diner at an ominously slow pace.

"I don't think we should stay here for much longer," he said quietly. "If you want to go, meet me at the drycleaners across the parking lot in an hour."

"Fine," Mulder replied.

The three rose and, after paying for their cheap breakfast, left the diner. Mulder and Scully headed back to the motel, while the balding man skulked away in the opposite direction.

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