The Lambs: Part 2 (4/21)     
by Lamia (AKA so kiss me goodbye) 
                                        
Rating: PG-13 (violence, strong language)
Category: S                             
Spoilers: Seasons 1-9, Fight the Future 
Keywords: William; Colonization 
Summary: Liam van de Kamp's life changes the day two 
FBI agents kidnap him and his parents.
               
Author's Note: The Lambs is a three-part story (with prologue).
                              

Chapter 14 

October, 2011 
New Mexico 

An electric silence crackled. 

No one moved or seemed to know what to say. Gun at the 
ready, Eric Hosteen stood taut. Liam's old neighbor 
eyeballed Dr. Scully, and the smile on her face wilted. 

A voice called. "Stan? What's going on?" 

Liam gaped at his mother. She was off her knees and was 
approaching their old neighbor and the doctor. "Dana?" 

Sal's tongue raked Liam's cheek. Liam's hand lifted to 
scratch behind her ears, but he didn't take his eyes 
off what was happening. 

Stan was a statue. 

After what seemed an eternity, Dr. Scully spoke. "Why 
are you here?" 

"To see for myself." 

Dr. Scully stiffened. "To see *what* exactly?" 

Her gaze pinned him until he gave a half-shake of his 
head. 

"How well you had prepared yourselves. To see if you 
needed my help." 

Mrs. van de Kamp inched forward again. "Stan?" 

He inclined his head. "Marie." 

Something was wrong with Liam's friend; his greeting 
was too formal - not warm at all - and he wasn't 
shocked to see them. 

Liam swallowed hard and questions flooded his mind. He 
and his parents didn't talk about it much, but he had 
never forgotten why they were here. *They* - the aliens 
- wanted his father to be a supersoldier. What if they 
had taken Stan in place of his dad? 

Liam's grip tightened around Sal's neck. If Stan was a 
supersoldier, how had he made it into the camp? Were 
the scientists wrong? Had the supersoldiers discovered 
a safe way through the beds of magnetite? 

Major Drummond appeared at his mother's side from 
nowhere. "You know this man, Marie?" 

She nodded. "Paul Stanaway. He's been our neighbor for 
years. I want to know how Dana knows him." 

Dr. Scully didn't turn to answer. "I know him as 
Jeremiah Smith. He assisted Mulder and me on several of 
our investigations. I last saw him in February, 2001." 

Gibson had remained at a distance, arms fixed and 
rigid. His brows, which had been scrunched in 
concentration, relaxed. He no longer seemed to regard 
Stan as an immediate threat. "It's safe for you to tell 
all of it, Scully. He wants them to know." 

Dr. Scully's fists unclenched at her side. 

"Jeremiah Smith is a healer. He can heal people who 
have been infected with the alien virus. He can heal 
people because he himself is alien - one of the rebel 
shapeshifters." 

Stan was an alien? That couldn't be right. Stan was, 
well, Stan. Stan from Bear River, Wyoming, not Mars or 
Alpha Centauri or deepest, darkest outer space. Besides 
- he looked human. 

*The same way the supersoldiers looked human.* 

Sal growled in Liam's ear as his hug grew more fierce; 
supersoldiers terrified him, but until now he'd never 
thought of them as *alien*. And yet, that's what they 
half were: half human, half alien. Dr. Scully's voice 
cut into his thoughts. 

"How did you find us?" 

Dr. Scully may have worked with Stan before, but they 
can't have been friends. Her hands opened and closed at 
her sides, she looked ready to spring - yet when she 
had greeted him, her awe had been plain. 

"A hunch. Reason. Luck. Would you believe the dog 
tracked you from the outskirts of an old mining town on 
the other side of that range?" 

*Sal?* 

The doctor's ponytail shook. "You didn't just turn up 
here. You must have been tracking us for months ... 
from" - she glanced at Liam's mother - "from Wyoming. 
The last time I saw you ..." 

"You need to hear me." 

"He's confident he is not putting the camp at risk, 
Scully," Gibson said. 

Stan tipped his head to his defender. Gibson still 
looked sour, but there was something else in his face 
Liam wasn't used to seeing: uncertainty and annoyance. 

The Major put his hand on Dr. Scully's arm. "Harm's 
already been done. We might as well hear him out." 

She nodded. 

"The hall?" 

She nodded again. "We wait until Mulder gets here - he 
can't be far away." 

"Of course." 

Her shoulders relaxed. "Come with me," she said to 
Stan, ignoring Liam's mother who had started to 
remonstrate. Stan walked with Dr. Scully through the 
crowd. With a curt nod, Eric signaled the other guards 
to follow. 

"I'm sure there's an explanation," Liam heard the Major 
say to his mother just as Ellie dropped down beside 
him. 

"Holy crap, Liam. I thought that dog was gonna tear 
your throat out. Is he yours?" 

"She." He watched his mother stare in the direction Dr 
Scully had taken Stan, pain etched around her eyes and 
in the downturn of her mouth. An old, almost forgotten, 
resentment toward Dr. Scully reared in his chest. If 
anyone had a right to speak to Stan, it was his 
parents. 

Major Drummond was still talking to Liam's mother, but 
Liam couldn't hear them because his classmates swamped 
him, keen to meet the Labrador. 

Before he could stand up, Mrs. Scully interrupted their 
chatter. 

"Mrs. van de Kamp's going to be tied up this afternoon. 
I suggest we make the most of the sunshine and organize 
some games up here." 

She didn't allow them any time to question the 
arrangement, sending Nick and Aaron off to gather up 
whatever they could find by way of sports gear. Those 
left waiting peppered her with questions about Stan, 
which no one would believe she couldn't answer. (Mrs 
Scully had a lot in common with the van de Kamps: she 
wasn't a scientist and had confessed to Liam's mother 
she knew very little about the work her daughter had 
done for so long.) 

As she scratched Sal's chin, Ellie eyed the retreating 
adults with suspicion. "More secrets." Liam nodded. 
"And I'm going to find out what." 

He had a right to know. Stan was his friend. He had 
been a part of Liam's life for as long as Liam could 
remember. What Stan didn't know about animals wasn't 
worth knowing - and he'd passed on some of that 
knowledge to Liam. Stan had laughed at the rumors 
saying he was like a horse whisperer - only better - 
but everyone knew he had a gift. 

*The same way people say *I* have a gift.* 

The sneaky voice in Liam's head made him uncomfortable. 
His mind raced as he stood; he wouldn't allow anyone to 
brush him off this time. 

"Mrs. Scully, I think I should get some things for Sal. 
I'll bet she's really thirsty. Me and Ellie can find 
some stuff real quick." 

Mrs. Scully's mouth crimped as though she wanted a 
polite way to say no. Between Sal's loud panting and 
Liam's unwavering stare she relented. 

"Fine. But I expect you back once you get the dog 
sorted." 

They made their way downstairs to the kitchen where the 
cook took one look at Sal and shooed them out. Liam and 
Sal waited in the corridor outside the mess hall for 
Ellie to return with a large bowl of water and a bone. 

"It's all the cook could spare," she said. "He said 
come back later. I hope your friend brought plenty of 
dog food with him." 

Sal whimpered at the sight of the water. 

"Now what do we do?" 

"I have to hear what Stan has to say." 

"How?" 

They had one chance: a small utility room at the back 
of the hall where his mother stored school supplies. 
Liam had scouted out the room as a listening post 
several days after Rudi van der Veldt's dramatic 
arrival. The room had two doors; one opened into the 
big hall; the other, onto a hallway. 

If he and Ellie got the inner door ajar, they might be 
able to listen in. 

He outlined his plan to Ellie. 

"Dr. Scully said the meeting would start when Mulder 
arrived. We'll wait here ten more minutes." 

They decided they would draw less attention if they 
waited in the mess hall. They slipped through the swing 
doors and set the bowl on the floor where Sal lapped 
the water with vigor. Backs to the wall, Liam and Ellie 
slid down onto the cracked linoleum floor, keeping out 
a watchful eye for the cook. 

"Scully said that man was a shapeshifter," Ellie said. 

"Yeah." 

"I've heard my parents talking about shapeshifters. 
They can make themselves look like anything or anyone." 

Once upon a time, not so long ago, Liam would have 
laughed at the suggestion. It wasn't so long ago he 
used to know - not just think but *know* - he was 
smart. These days all he seemed to be learning was how 
much he didn't know. 

When they had been feeling especially daring (and when 
no adults were around to monitor their internet use), 
they had researched pictures of aliens online. The 
images ranged from friendly-looking Grays, with their 
huge fly-bulb eyes, to razor-jawed monsters from horror 
movies. As far as Liam knew, no one had seen a proper 
alien - which was weird, considering that's who they 
were at war with. Even listening to Mulder and Dr 
Scully left him confused because they didn't always 
seem to agree on certain details. 

"What's he like? Your neighbor?" 

How could he be expected to answer this question when 
it was now obvious he had known nothing important about 
Stan? 

"I guess I don't know anymore." He picked at a peeling 
edge of the linoleum. "Mom says I was the first person 
to call him Stan. I remember him helping Dad build a 
barn. I had a kid's tool belt with a little plastic 
hammer when I was small - Mom's got ... Mom *had* a 
photo. I'd put the belt on and say I was going to help 
my friend Stan. After I started calling him that, the 
name sort of stuck." 

He wondered what had happened to that photo. 

What kind of alien picks up nails and a hammer, or 
pitches in with the harvest? "This is weird," he said. 

Ellie flashed a sympathetic smile, and they stopped 
talking until Sal lifted her head from the bowl and 
Liam knew it was time to go. 

He patted his dog. "I can't wait to hear your story." 

They crept from the mess hall on the tips of their 
toes, peering down the corridor one way and then the 
other. 

The passageways had been empty, but their hearts were 
galloping by the time they scurried into the utility 
room. As Liam had hoped, from the hum of noise it 
sounded like every adult who could be there was already 
in the hall. The utility room - more like a large 
closet - was stacked high with chairs and shelves. Sal 
at his side, Liam tip-toed to the far door, careful not 
to brush against anything that might clatter or squeak. 

He put his hand on her shoulder. "Sit, Sal." 

He wasn't worried she'd give their position away. She 
knew exactly what he wanted. She stretched out on the 
floor against a shelf and cocked her head. Her tail let 
out a tiny wag; when Liam glared, she gave him a dog 
grin and it stilled. 

With Ellie just behind him, Liam screwed up his face as 
he eased the door open. 

*Don't click don't click.* 

His heart almost gave out at the tell-tale metallic 
ping. He froze, expecting the door to be pulled wide. 
When nothing happened, he exhaled and became aware of 
two things: the meeting had already started, and 
someone was stifling a coughing fit. 

He didn't dare open the door enough to see the adults. 
When the coughing petered out, Liam identified Dr 
Scully's voice. 

" - time I saw you, the night we found Mulder dead, was 
just before you disappeared into a blaze of light. 
*They* found you. They took you back. How can you 
expect us to trust you?" Her fraught voice - its 
desperation - reminded him of that long-ago scene in 
his living room in Wyoming when she and Mulder had 
ordered them out of the house. 

"It's too late for that, Scully. We'll deal with 
whatever happens." That sounded like Mr. Skinner. 

There was no mistaking the next voice; Liam had grown 
up with it. "It's right for you to be wary. I *am* 
dangerous." 

Liam wished he could see Stan's face. It was hard to 
believe what he was hearing. He edged down onto his 
hands and knees, making room for Ellie to put her head 
close to the gap too. 

"I *was* taken. I could easily be taken again. But not 
yet." 

Liam flinched when the next person spoke. Mulder was 
very loud and close. *Very* close. 

"These people are going to need more than your best 
guess, Jeremiah. What they'd really like is answers. 
They need to understand." 

"There is *no* understanding it," Stan said. "I was 
taken because I disobeyed. I was taken and 
reconditioned. When I was no longer a threat, I left 
and did not return. For a decade I have hidden myself, 
concealing and limiting my sedition, and watching. I 
have not been retaken because my actions have not been 
considered a risk. And because my actions are not 
considered a risk, I have not been thought of. Can you 
understand that?" 

*No.* Try as he might, Liam struggled to make sense of 
his neighbor. 

Mr. Skinner took a stab. "You're saying they just let 
you go? You work against them, they recapture you, they 
recondition - was that the word you used? - they 
recondition you, then they let you go?" 

"I let myself go. I was no longer a threat. I was 
considered obedient and my obedience was not 
questioned. That's how they made us to be." 

Major Drummond spluttered. "That's ridiculous. You were 
a traitor. You expect us to believe they just let you 
go. How do you know they haven't been keeping tabs on 
you all this time? Just waiting for you to do what 
you've just done? Expose our camp?" 

Stan's reply was stark. 

"Your government men, your conspirators would not 
understand your enemy. That was their mistake. It will 
be yours, too." 

"Then make them understand." Gibson's challenge rang 
through the hall. 

Breath caught in Liam's throat. 

"I know I can't stay here." Stan's voice dropped. "I 
was careful not to track directly to this place, and 
while I've traveled, I've encountered and healed other 
abductees. That's how I've tried to help. But abductee 
numbers are increasing and my hand in their recovery 
won't be secret much longer. And soon even that won't 
be enough. The symptoms of infection have changed and 
most abductees now don't realize they've been 
kidnapped, let alone that they've been exposed to the 
virus. The near-death sickness we discovered in 
returnees a decade ago now presents itself as a severe 
flu. Those infected recover, but the virus is not 
killed - it's merely dormant. Those who do not realize 
they have been abducted return home none-the-wiser. I 
have no idea what triggers reactivation, but that's 
when irreversible mutation occurs. That's when the 
human body starts to change. 

"I can heal those in the interim stage - but once the 
final change begins, there's nothing I can do. The 
human body no longer recognizes itself. There may be 
thousands of people out there now carrying the dormant 
virus." 

Liam shuddered. That could have happened to his father. 

"That may be, Jeremiah, but your being here - you 
understand that concerns us?" Mr. Skinner said. 

"You're safe for the time being. This area is feared, 
and the reborn put themselves at risk entering this 
territory." 

"The reborn? Supersoldiers, you mean?" 

"You're safe from them. They're curious about this area 
- but not because they suspect you are here. It's the 
ones like me - the ones you call the bounty hunters - 
you need to watch for. There are few of us left, but 
still - you must be vigilant." 

"Don't you worry about that." The Major's confidence 
was probably bluster. "You said you could help us? 
How?" 

"As Scully said: I have healing skills." 

"Jeremiah, you heal returned abductees," Dr. Scully 
said. "There are abductees in this room, but as far as 
we know most here haven't been exposed to the virus. 
What they need - what we have always needed - is a 
vaccine. We've been trying to develop one - can your 
abilities help with that?" 

"No." 

The whole room seemed to sigh. 

"I heal bodies, Agent Scully. Human frailty is not an 
illness. It can not be healed." 

"Maybe there's some other way you can help us?" Major 
Drummond said. 

"Anyway I can." 

Liam recognised Rudi by his accent. "Why now? Why not 
ten, twenty years ago?" 

It was an accusation, bitter and angry. A low mumbling 
of agreement and the shift and shuffle of people moving 
uncomfortably on the wooden seats echoed through the 
room. 

Stan was not intimidated. "Very few wanted to hear the 
message -" 

Gibson cut in. "He wants to be of use so you'll trust 
him." 

"Is there any reason why we should believe him?" Mr 
Skinner said. 

There was a shrug in Gibson's tone. "He *thinks* he's 
telling the truth." 

Rudi's next question struck a chord with Liam. "How 
about weapons? Maybe he knows what'll kill those 
bastards?" 

Liam hadn't thought about it, but a weapon - something 
better than a gun - sounded like a good idea. From what 
he had seen, bullets didn't look like they'd have much 
effect against a supersoldier. 

"I can give you the best weapon there is." Liam heard 
the adults draw a collective breath. "I can help you 
know the face of your enemy." 

*That's a weapon?* 

"Aren't you the face of our enemy? Underneath it all, 
you even look like a Gray, don't you? Back of the neck, 
right, Scully?" Gibson called out sharply just as the 
room erupted into screeches of chairs scraping the 
floor. 

Liam clapped his hands over his ears. Men and women 
were yelling. Whatever he had done, Gibson had thrown 
the room into chaos. 

Over the din, Liam heard his mother. "Stop! Stop!" 

He couldn't help himself; he pushed the door out 
further and risked poking his head around the corner. 
Ellie pushed at his side and ducked under his arm. It 
did them little good; most of the adults were on their 
feet. All they could see was a forest of legs and 
backs. 

Liam's mother tried again. "I know this man. He's lived 
next door to me for nearly ten years. He's worked with 
my husband. At least hear him out." 

The cacophony, as bad as fingernails on an old 
blackboard, filled the room as people took to their 
seats again. 

Liam nearly jumped out of his skin when the door 
pressed into his arm. Ellie swallowed a yelp and Liam 
tensed, waiting for the embarrassment of being caught 
out. Nothing happened. The door was still open, jammed 
against Liam's elbow. A pair of jeans stood on the 
other side. 

The door nudged him again like a warning and Liam 
scrambled back. He exchanged a look with Ellie, who 
gave a little shrug. 

"Can you put that away, please, Gibson?" Liam heard Dr 
Scully say. She sounded pissed off. 

"Yeah. Yeah, I can." 

"Care to explain yourself?" 

"He hates them." Gibson's voice dripped with glee. "He 
doesn't want you to know how much he hates them, but he 
hates them - the same way I hate them." 

For some reason Dr. Scully was not happy. "I see." 

"You never know. I might end up liking this thing one 
day," Gibson said, back to normal: all arrogance and 
spite. 

"So there was a point to that little display? I'd like 
to know where you even got one of those." 

"Can I see that?" the Major asked. "Is this one of the 
stilettos Mulder described?" 

There was a pause in the conversation, and Liam guessed 
Gibson was showing him something. If the legs hadn't 
been guarding the door, he might have risked looking 
again. 

"Yes, there was a point," Gibson said. "I was testing 
him. I can read his mind. That doesn't mean I trust 
what I read. Being compared with them - the Grays - 
*you* couldn't see it, but for a second he wanted to 
tear my throat out just for suggesting -" 

The Major interrupted. "So he's dangerous?" 

"Sure - just not to us." 

This seemed to pacify the Major. The tone of his voice 
softened. "I'm curious as to why you've been living 
next to the van de Kamps all this time. Surely that's 
not coincidence?" 

*This* was what Liam wanted to hear. 

"Sometimes peculiar things do happen, coincidences," 
Stan said. 

"Is that what you're saying it was?" 

"It was one of the safest places for me. A small 
community with close social ties. I've spent the last 
nine years laying low, traveling intermittently to 
returnee camps, and making sure I did nothing to draw 
attention to my base." 

"You knew *nothing* about the supersoldiers' interest 
in Harry van de Kamp?" the Major asked. 

"That the reborn have any interest in Harry van de Kamp 
comes as a surprise to me. When their house was raided, 
I believed I was responsible. That I had been 
discovered and had inadvertently led the reborn to the 
van de Kamps. I didn't realize until too late that the 
FBI agents visiting Harry and Marie were Mulder and 
Scully. In fact, I had reason to believe Mulder was 
dead." 

Liam knew Mulder and Dr. Scully's work for the FBI had 
been dangerous; he hadn't realized *how* exciting those 
jobs were. How and when had Mulder nearly died? He 
wondered how he might raise the topic in conversation. 

"Scully saved me. Minutes before you were taken, my 
body was discovered. She found a way to beat the 
virus." 

It was Mulder standing in front of the door; he *had* 
to know Liam was there. Did he want Liam to hear? 

"What happened after we left the van de Kamps' house, 
Jeremiah?" 

"I watched the reborn leave. There were too many for me 
to deal with by myself. When I saw smoke, I ran inside 
but I couldn't find anyone. 

"I didn't know you and Harry had already been rescued, 
Marie. I thought ... I feared for you." Liam felt 
Ellie's hand squeeze his. 

"The fire department never found any bodies. I waited 
while they searched, but I already knew there was still 
hope. Sal was fitting in her kennel; she had something 
to tell me." 

Liam quirked his head. Was Stan's ability with animals 
something to do with him being alien? That made sense. 

"By good luck and divine grace Sal and I were able to 
track you across country. I knew those fighting the 
reborn would seek areas rich in magnetite veins to 
build strongholds." 

Stan stopped, letting them digest his story. There was 
a lot to take in. Someone coughed again. 

Of everyone, no one could have more questions than his 
parents. His mother couldn't disguise her incredulity. 
"Stan, are you saying Sal tracked us from Wyoming to 
here?" 

But her question was lost as others started demanding 
answers. 

"How are you going to help us?" 

"Do you know *how* to make the vaccine?" 

"*How* do we fight?" 

"Who exactly is our enemy?" 

Someone - probably the Major - must have motioned the 
end of the barrage. The room went silent so Stan could 
respond. 

"You pay a courtesy that is not reciprocated." 

The door dug once more into Liam's arm. Mulder leaned 
on it as two more pairs of legs walked by. Liam heard a 
mutter. "Great. An enigmatic alien: my favorite." 

This was accompanied by a snort. "Is there any other 
kind?" 

The new voices were muffled but familiar: Toby and 
Alan. 

The underhand comments would not have been heard at the 
other end of the hall. 

Anyway the Major was more interested in Stan's peculiar 
remark. "Pardon?" 

"Your enemy does not call you enemy." 

*Not helping, Stan*, Liam wanted to tell his friend. 

"So? What do they call us?" 

Liam wondered if Stan's pause was a deliberate ploy for 
dramatic effect. 

"Energy." 

"Energy?" 

"Some of this you must know: Mulder and Scully 
uncovered much of it more than a decade ago when an 
alien craft was pulled from the sea in Africa." 

"The etchings Scully made," Mulder called out. "The 
ship was inscribed with religious texts. The etchings 
themselves proved to be power -" 

"A human blueprint," Dr. Scully said. "Evolution - 
that's what you're talking about, isn't it?" 

"You owe the little Gods your lives," Stan replied. 
"There was already life on this planet - that came long 
before the little Gods - but you wouldn't be you 
without cultivation. You were made the perfect crop. 
You were fruitful and multiplied. You grew yourselves, 
tended yourselves and strove to better your vine. The 
little God vintners had only to sit back and watch. A 
farmer knows when to harvest. Picking too soon is 
wasteful; left too long fruit rots. 

"You were made to be the perfect crop. You were 
designed to want to perfect the efficiency of your own 
lives. 

"But what has made you successful has also made you 
vulnerable. 

"Your civilization is poised to go two ways. The fuel 
upon which you built your empire is diminishing. There 
is fundamental science you have not grasped yet. If you 
don't, you risk a new dark age. Collapse. Regression. 
But if you do grasp it, your technology will leap 
forward. 

"The little Gods want neither. You are perfect to them 
now. You are in abundance, you are organized, you are 
the best the vine has to offer. Your success can be 
used against you. 

"The little Gods are here to thresh, reap and store. 
You are to be the fuel on which a new great empire is 
built - the fuel on which a new great mission is 
launched." 

*That* didn't sound good. Ellie's nails dug into the 
flesh on Liam's arm. He turned and saw his own alarm 
mirrored in her face. 

The students didn't seem as concerned. 

"So, they want to put us on the menu? Wait - I think 
I've seen this movie." Toby hadn't moved far from the 
door. 

Someone - probably Alan - snorted. 

Ever since his life had been turned upside down in 
August, Liam had grown used to hearing words like 
"colonization," "alien" and "supersoldier." He knew 
what was happening somehow amounted to an invasion - 
and he'd read enough books and watched enough movies 
(sometimes without his parents' knowledge) to know the 
most popular reasons to invade Earth included an 
inexplicable (to the humans, anyway) need to 
exterminate earthlings, a desire to enslave humans, or 
a plan to harvest the population for food. Unless, of 
course, they were the Borg. Grotesque though the *Star 
Trek* aliens had been, Liam had some sympathy for their 
motive - he liked the idea of collecting knowledge. 
Their idea was good - just not the way they went about 
it. Why couldn't an invading alien force be a kinder, 
curious Borg-like race, keen on sharing their intellect 
with the universe? 

"It's never been that simple." Liam nearly laughed - it 
was like Stan had picked the thought out of his head. 

"The same forces that are shaping you now, shaped me 
and my brothers thousands of years ago. We still do not 
know why. The little Gods have an urge to push forward, 
a loneliness and singleness of purpose we do not 
understand." 

There was pain in his voice. "What happened to your 
people, Stan?" 

Trust his mother to ask that. Whoever - *whatever* - 
Stan was, Marie van de Kamp still hadn't crossed him 
off her Christmas card list. 

"We who remain are few - ours was the last harvest, 
Marie. Once *we* were the reborn. This is what the 
little Gods do. Before us, there were others. 

"No race of reborn is ever the same, it seems, except 
in one respect: just as they make us powerful, they 
make sure we are powerfully enslaved. I can change 
form" - the room released a singular gasp of 
astonishment, and Liam almost whimpered in his longing 
to see what was happening - "I know the memory of 
particles, can re-order atoms. I share blood with the 
little Gods. I even look like them when I cannot 
control myself. 

"But I cannot escape them. 

"Our numbers have dwindled, and as we age the ties 
about our necks are loosened. The power to compel me is 
no longer what it once was - and we have freedoms your 
reborn do not have. We govern ourselves and always 
have. The older we've grown, the more our bonds have 
chafed. 

"Mistakes were made with our generation of reborn. We 
are divided into those who follow at the heel of our 
masters - because that is all we know - and those who 
long to know the freedom of a free death. 

"Because of *our* dissension, the little Gods won't 
allow your reborn the same freedom. We had some 
autonomy to govern ourselves as long as it fitted the 
purpose of our masters; these supersoldiers have much 
less - a hive mind will override their individuality. 

"We are all servants and soldiers. In changing us 
irrevocable damage was done. The damage was deliberate 
and binds us to the little Gods for as long as they 
will drag us across the heavens in pursuit of a goal 
they do not share or care to explain. 

"I was made well and treated indifferently. All we are 
required to do is follow the compulsions put upon us. 
But we were not made perfectly - and the same flaws 
will be stitched into your reborn. We have no children. 
We can reproduce ourselves imperfectly, but the effort 
is not simple or without cost. We have come as far as 
we can go; we will not last much longer. The little 
Gods know it and still they will not let us go. It's 
time for a new harvest. Through you, the little Gods 
will further themselves." 

That didn't sound so bad. Stan said he was a servant or 
a soldier, yet he'd still been able to go away and live 
next door to Liam for a decade. There seemed to be an 
element of choice in his life. Had the humans really 
stopped and thought about the situation? Were the Grays 
really that bad? Liam rolled his shoulders. He'd been 
on his hands and knees so long a crick had developed in 
his neck. 

"When you said the supersoldiers were essentially a 
hive mind" - you could hear the cogs turning in Major 
Drummond's head - "what did you mean? Is there a 
queen?" 

"I've definitely seen this movie," Toby deadpanned. 

"A queen? No. Not a queen ..." 

"Well, what then?" 

"The servants of the little Gods have never been 
allowed to see the design, but we have beliefs ... 
scriptures" - he hesitated over the word - "ways to 
comprehend the actions of our masters. 

"With this generation of the reborn we believe the 
Little Gods plan to create a being, a conduit or a 
bridge between themselves and their servants. They made 
a mistake with the bounty hunters: we are all equal - 
and individual - that makes us harder to control. This 
time we believe the Little Gods plan to create 
something far more powerful than a servant - something 
more frightening - an ultimate supersoldier. Someone 
who is almost their equal. Someone who will eventually 
have total control over the reborn - a Commander, if 
you will." 

"Who? A human?" The Major fired out the words. 

"I don't know." 

"Gibson?" 

"His thoughts are strange to me, Major," Gibson said, a 
curious catch in his voice. "He doesn't *think* it's 
anybody in *this* room -" 

Measured footsteps started moving about the hall. "But 
maybe ..." 

Blood started roaring in Liam's ears. The footsteps 
were getting closer. Liam didn't have to see into the 
room to know it was Gibson and he was moving closer. 
While reading Stan's thoughts, had he somehow "heard" 
Liam's? Gibson would delight in exposing him. Liam 
stiffened. The legs in front of Liam straightened and 
the footsteps stopped. 

Liam hung onto his breath until Gibson spoke again. 

"No ... That's just his own confusion," Gibson said, 
almost as if he were talking only to himself. "Sorry, 
Major. He doesn't know much about this figure." 

The Major pressed on anyway. "Is this *Commander* the 
weakness you can show us? The face of our enemy?" 

"That's not what I was thinking of," Stan said as if he 
was pondering the idea. "There's much we can only guess 
about the plan -" 

The Major wouldn't let go the topic. 

"Does this *Commander* already exist? If we know who 
*he* is, we can destroy him - it. Prevent it from 
taking control, throw the supersoldiers into disarray. 
Is that what would happen?" he asked eagerly. Liam 
could imagine the cogs in the Major's brain clicking 
round. 

"I'm not sure that would be a good idea -" 

But the murmurs rising in the hall disagreed. 

"It could be our best chance," the Major said in a 
rush. "It could be our *only* chance. You must have 
some idea who this person is!" 

Stan almost growled as if he was struggling to say the 
words. "We think the Commander will arise December 22 
next year." 

Someone whistled. 

"The day of colonization," Mr. Skinner said. 

"Jeremiah, speaking plainly, why did the Grays come 
here? Can they be reasoned with? Is their mission so 
incompatible with human values that there's no way we 
can fully communicate with them?" 

A hush fell on the room when Mr. Skinner finished. 

Stan's heavy sigh carried to the back of the room. 
"They do not believe you are talking." 

"That's ludicrous. How can they not believe we're 
talking?" Mr. Skinner said in frustration. "We've been 
negotiating with them for years." 

Toby's next comment was loud enough for everyone to 
hear. "Wasn't all that conspiracy stuff *because* some 
governments were colluding with the aliens?" 

"You are cattle in the field." 

A chill passed through Liam. The adults were speechless 
- except for Toby, who let out an irreverent, long and 
low cattle call. 

The totally inappropriate sound effect set off a 
stutter of choking. Ellie wore an incensed glare on her 
face. Liam had the impression that sometimes the 
students didn't take their situation seriously enough. 

Up until now Eric Hosteen had stayed out of the 
interrogation, but something in Stan's explanation 
stirred him. "Why cultivate us, why give us the seeds 
of religion, if they thought us no better than 
animals?" 

"The little Gods did not put the messages on those 
ships." 

"Then who did?" Dr. Scully asked. 

"The messages were handed down to my brothers from the 
reborn who came before us - or before them. We believe 
they are older than the little Gods." 

"Do they mean anything to you? To them?" 

Liam wondered what they meant by messages - and what 
they were. 

"Some we both understand. Others, we both do not. We do 
not know what the little Gods know." 

"If the Grays don't talk to you, how do you know 
anything about them? Do they consider you animals as 
well?" 

With Gibson on hand there was nothing Stan could keep 
secret. 

"Yeah, the bounty hunters travel interstellar cattle 
class." There was an element of bored cruelty in his 
pronouncement. 

Liam winced in discomfort for Stan, but if his old 
neighbor was rattled by Gibson he didn't show it. 

"You train dogs to do what you want; do they speak back 
to you?" Stan said. He took a moment to recollect 
himself. "Inferences may be drawn from actions. You say 
you know little about your enemy; you know more than 
you realize. How long has your Government been aware of 
an alien presence?" 

"Since the crash at Roswell or before. Since the 
nineteen forties, at least," Mulder said. 

"Ask yourselves: given a belief of superiority and a 
superior technology, why has it taken so long for this 
takeover to happen?" 

He was met with silence. 

"This is a stealth takeover. Why?" Liam itched to sneak 
a look into the hall again. He could hear the challenge 
- the stare - in Stan's questions. His old neighbor 
would be facing them all down. 

"A superior hand with superior numbers has no need to 
hide in the shadows." 

Mulder shifted, taking a step away from the door. 

"They're afraid," he said. "That's it, isn't Jeremiah? 
They're afraid of something." 

"What?" several voices asked. 

"Does it matter?" Stan said. "Don't you now know the 
most important thing you can ever know about an enemy?" 

Liam held his breath, waiting for a response. 

"They're afraid of us." Wonder filled Mulder's voice. 
"Their numbers are few. We out number them and that 
makes them afraid of us." 

"That's what we believe." 

Beside him, Ellie sat back on her knees. She was 
frowning and Liam guessed she was disappointed at the 
revelation. He felt the same way; he didn't see how 
Stan's information helped them at all. They weren't the 
only ones to fail to see the good of it. 

"Unless we know how to fight them, the psychological 
advantage of their fear isn't going to do us much 
good," a scientist said. 

"Not necessarily." An inkling of possibility stirred in 
Major Drummond's voice. "Jeremiah, can you fight a 
supersoldier?" 

"What are you getting at, Drummond?" Mr. Skinner asked. 

"Jeremiah Smith says he wants to help us know who our 
enemy is. Jeremiah Smith tells us our enemy fears us. 
Jeremiah Smith tells us one being, this *Commander*, 
will have total control of a super force of alien 
soldiers." 

The atmosphere had grown tense and expectant. 

"Don't you see?" Liam could hear the Major's smile. 
"Gibson's been right all along: it's time we started 
fighting back. And Jeremiah Smith can help us do that." 

"How?" Rudi van der Veldt asked the question for 
everyone. 

"Jeremiah Smith is going to capture us a supersoldier."