The Lambs: Part 2 (7/21) 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 17 November, 2011 New Mexico Liam was getting good at sneaking around. He had no alarm so he kept himself awake by reading a book. At midnight he slid out of bed and slipped his feet into his shoes. He pulled on pants and a sweater. His plan was simple. If his mother woke, he would tell her he was going to the bathroom, and the trip would be postponed. But Liam didn't need the excuse. He eased back the slider, tiptoed across the living space of their quarters and paused at the door. Taking a deep breath, he opened it, and stepped out. He stood with his ear against the wall, listening for any noises from within. The room was silent. The hallway was empty and dark in the early hours of the morning. Liam used his flashlight to illuminate the checkered pattern on the floor to guide him. Stan was waiting at the stairs. He nodded at Liam's cautious approach, and they descended in silence. The bathroom excuse wouldn't work down here; he prayed no one was working late. With each step, his sense of adventure diminished, replaced with creeping apprehension. *Am I doing the right thing?* The plan had made sense this afternoon. If Liam helped him find the object, Stan would collect the body parts of one supersoldier, allow it to reassemble, and try using the object to cure it. Stan didn't want the grownups to worry about him knowing about the object, nor did he want to wait while they "went into committee" to discuss the right way to proceed. It would save them time if he could find out sooner rather than later, he said. If the object didn't work (although Liam got the impression Stan thought this was unlikely), they would return it with none the wiser. Liam had agreed to help Stan on one condition: that he be allowed to see the supersoldier. Initially, Stan was reluctant - he only needed Liam's help to find the object - but Liam insisted. Now Liam wondered why he felt it so important to see the soldier up close; it wasn't as though he had never seen one - or been close to one. There was still time to back out. But seeing the supersoldier wasn't really the source of his unease. There were a few problems with Stan's plan - problems which didn't seem to disturb Stan but which Liam could see causing a whole heap of trouble. What if the object couldn't heal the supersoldier? What if it reassembled and was really, really angry? What if Stan couldn't control it and it escaped? Stan didn't seem concerned with any of those scenarios. They crept along a laboratory hallway. No one slept on this floor and there was no sign of any light leaching under doorways. Glowing green safety signs gave him some sense of direction but without their flashlights they'd be blind. Though the darkness pressed in on him, it felt safer to talk down here. "Does it have to be a whole supersoldier?" Liam whispered, imagining the maniacal face. "Couldn't you just see if the object worked on a part of it? Or - or what if you just put the head and chest back together?" Stan paused a second or two before answering. "Say I healed a leg - what would happen?" Liam thought through the puzzle. "Well, it wouldn't be a supersoldier leg anymore - it would be human." "Correct." "But that's good isn't it?" "Is it?" Stan said. "Well, couldn't you cure all the bits separately then let it reform - wait. No, that wouldn't work, would it?" he said. "Once the body parts are human again, they can't reform." "Correct again." "The legs - they'd be dead." "It would seem so." Dr. Scully's laboratory and office were just up ahead of them, next to the infirmary. "What if we just tried to cure something small - like a finger. If it worked, we could put him together again without the finger and he'd only be missing a small part of himself." "There's probably a few adults who'd agree with that plan." "It's a small price to pay," Liam said, mostly to himself, when they stopped outside a door with a glass panel at the top. Liam peered into the blackness. He stood alert, ears pricked for any sound. The stillness was complete. Stan didn't wait around; the handle resisted when he tried it. Liam shone his light at it as Stan leaned in and jiggled it some more. Stan went stock still. The lock gave with a sharp click. "How -" Liam was left gaping as Stan slid into the room. The assortment of peculiar science-y items - burners and tubes - cast creepy shadows over the walls. There were sinks and benches and even a bulky refrigerator that looked like it had never been moved from the corner. "Over there." Liam directed Stan to another door on the far side of the room. It was through there he had seen Dr. Scully doing paperwork. The inner room was secured too. Again, Stan gripped the handle and Liam heard the sound of the lock giving way. This room was small - little more than a desk on one side and some cupboards on the other. Papers were stacked in file trays on the desk, and two pens lay parallel to the edge of a large crisp white blotter. Stan's approach to searching for the object was just as orderly. He began pulling on the desk drawers, one by one from left to right. Liam pushed past the desk and went to the cupboards. The bottom row made a bench, along which Dr. Scully's journals and books were lined up. Above it, the top row was almost beyond his reach. *Not there.* His eyes were adjusting to the gloom. Along the walls there were several dark, rectangular shapes - photo or picture frames, their images obscured by the dimness of the room. Liam stretched up to one. "Stan?" He squinted when a beam hit his eyes. Stan looked at the picture Liam was touching. Two tiny hand prints and two tiny footprints, and some words written in beautiful italics: "A mother's love is hard to explain." They had to be from Dr. Scully's dead daughter, didn't they? Stan took no time to admire the artwork. He ran his fingers behind the frame, lifting it from the wall. "Good work," he said, revealing a small recess behind the frame. Within the space was a solid-looking cube with a dial. Stan handed the picture frame to Liam. "Be careful with this." It took Stan as much as a minute to crack the lock on the safe. The muscles in his face went slack and a trace of sweat broke on his forehead. Stan's concentration was all going into moving the molecules of the lock. Liam danced up and down on his feet, hugging the frame to his chest. A drip in a sink in the outer room made him jump. He had chosen to help Stan but he still wasn't sure he was doing the right thing. However much curing the supersoldier was the right thing to do, breaking into a safe was not and Liam didn't bother trying to justify it to himself. He made an on-the-spot vow to his conscience that he would come clean about the break-in as soon as he was able. When the safe popped open, Liam knew there was no going back. Stan reached in and rummaged through whatever Dr Scully stored in it. Liam swallowed his guilt; it was making his stomach queasy. "Have you got it?" "Yes." As Stan withdrew his hand, Liam could see the object in it. Another wave of nausea hit him. He felt dizzy. Stan glanced at him, frowning. "Are you alright? You've been a great help to me, Liam, but you don't have to come." That was a tempting thought - but somehow that seemed wrong too. Liam had committed himself to this action - because it had seemed the right thing to do. Pulling out wouldn't make him any less responsible for what happened. Now that they had removed the object, Liam felt honor-bound to protect it until they could return it. He was the one who told Stan about the object. He had agreed to help Stan find it. He had a duty. Liam took a deep breath and bit down on his cheeks. "I want to see the supersoldier." Stan turned the object in his hands before he closed the safe and hung the frame back over the recess. They were out of the building in a surprisingly short period of time. They left with no trouble, simply walking up two flights of stairs and out into the night. It puzzled Liam that there were no guards around the camp. Surely they shouldn't have been able to slip out so easily? "Don't worry about the guards, Liam. I thought it would be better if we weren't disturbed tonight. Don't worry," Stan added, "I simply encouraged them to act on their natural impulses." Within minutes they reached the hangar where they had talked that afternoon. Stan told Liam to go inside and wait while he carried out the next stage of the plan, which he would be able to do faster by himself. Liam climbed on a drum again. There wasn't much light from the stars - the cloud cover from the afternoon hadn't shifted - but he could see better now that they were above ground. Less than ten minutes later Stan returned with several canvas bags slung over his shoulders. Liam didn't have to ask what was in the bags. Some of them were twitching. "Is it safe to carry them?" Stan dumped two on the ground. Liam was glad to see both were knotted with thick rope. "It would help me if you could carry these." Liam edged closer, toeing one sack that seemed smaller and less jumpy than the others. "Head," said Stan. Liam gingerly picked it up and rolled it over his shoulder. It was heavier than he expected and kind of warm. His body did an involuntary shiver as he imagined fetid breath blowing onto his shoulder blades - which was stupid - since the head literally couldn't breath. That got him thinking. "Can it bite?" he asked, more in curiosity than horror. "It's been gagged." "Oh," Liam said. Then he stooped to grab the other bag, which was long and knobbly. "Arm?" Stan nodded. "Bits." Liam sized up the sacks Stan had slung over his back. "And you've got ..." "All the other relevant bits - if we are going to do this, we must move." They headed out into the darkness. He hadn't gone more than five steps before he realized it would be impossible to carry both sacks *and* hold his flashlight. He had popped the light in his mouth, even though it was a very unsatisfactory (and painful) method of carrying it. He couldn't direct it and his cheeks ached from being clenched. During the day he never questioned where he was putting his feet. Now he stumbled every few steps. He completely missed one obstacle and he found himself falling over. There was no thought involved; he let go his grip on the sacks and flung his hands out to brace himself. Wincing, he retrieved his flashlight and looked at the palm of a hand. He'd come down on an old sharp branch and grazed it. There was blood, but the cut didn't look deep. He spat on the wound, then grabbed the sacks, re-positioning them on his back with one hand and biting down on the flashlight again. The ground didn't get any less bumpy, but Liam adjusted his walking style. He was reminded of the trek which had brought him to this place. Stan must have slowed because Liam had nearly caught up on him. Only a last minute sidestep saved him from another tumble. An obstacle with a straight, low edge rose from the ground. It was a tiny camouflaged bivouac, just big enough for a man to slide under, room to sneeze and no more. A head was poking out from one end. Mouth full, he grunted. "Urm?" "She'll wake up feeling refreshed." "Urm," Liam said again - more insistent this time. "She won't wake for several hours, Liam." Liam wondered how many guards were sleeping on the job. He hoped they didn't get in trouble. It was impossible to estimate how far away they were from the base. It was too dark to make out any of the buildings, but Liam thought he had a rough idea of the direction they had traveled. Finding this place in daylight wouldn't be too hard - so long as he could get past the guards. A whimper and the unexpected brush of a dog against his leg heralded their destination. *Sal.* It was just in time; the weight of the supersoldier's head and arms were starting to pull on Liam's shoulders. Liam copied Stan, dropping his sacks with relief. Sal nosed at the bags and growled. "You probably don't wanna touch them, Sal." The dog sat on her haunches and gave him look which implied she wasn't stupid. The sleeping guard was about fifty feet away. Her bivouac was set up off the side of a small mound. Liam supposed in the daylight the tent was supposed to blend into the slope. That must be how someone stayed out here at all hours. Satisfied the guard wasn't going to wake, he turned back to Stan. There was nothing remarkable about this spot. Just a bit of corrugated tin half covered with dirt. "Help me pull." Stan kicked at the ground until he unearthed two thick ropes. Liam grabbed one of the ropes and started to heave. He felt resistance before something gave way. "That should do it," Stan said. Together they stared into the murk. It took Liam a few seconds to make out the bottom of the narrow shaft. He gasped. It lay still - it could have been the middle part of a shop dummy. Naked (definitely male) with a stalk for a neck but no head or arms or legs. Then it shook. Liam scrambled back. The thing - he supposed it was a torso - was rocking, almost as if it was trying to pull itself upright. "What do we do now?" Stan hacked through the knots around the top of one bag and then another, and tipped out the contents of both. "Watch." Body parts tumbled into the hole. Liam winced in sympathy as part of a leg rebounded off the side of the shaft. It brought down a shower of gravel and loosened soil. The fallen limbs were as lifeless as sticks (as you would expect with severed limbs). The torso still twitched, but the legs parts weren't doing anything. *Joke's on me.* A dismembered body could not be put back together again, no matter how technologically advanced it was. Liam felt duped for having thought it was even possible. But even as he was thinking it, something at the bottom of the pit squirmed. Shadows flickered against the rough surface of the shaft. Things were flopping like fish in a drying stream. Liam watched in ghoulish fascination as the torso quivered then broke into a mad spin, whipping up dust and becoming a blur so fast once again Liam felt his stomach rolling around. There was a metallic clank and then another, and - abruptly - the spinning stopped. Liam blinked. The torso had sprouted stumps. Before he could speak, a part - the right thigh - turned, as sharply as a compass needle, and flew onto one of the outstretched stumps. The ends clanged as they crashed together. The body spun again and there was another crash and the right leg was complete. Another jerk of the body and the second leg was reattached. "It's like magnets," Liam said with excitement. "What next? His arms?" The thing was planted on its knees, tense and solid - and expectant. "Not his arms. Not yet." Stan slashed a hole in the other bag Liam had carried. The head landed with a thud on its side. Liam stared down - even from a height able to make out its profile, all angular and sharp lines. A piece of red cloth gagging the mouth was still knotted around it. Liam could see the jaw moving against the cloth: a fish mouth. The body in the hole rose to its feet and hesitated as if it didn't know what to do. Was this as far as it could go? What if it didn't know how to put itself back together again? The body scrabbled this way, then that, on the sandy ground. With no arms to balance itself, its movements were unsteady. As it scuffled in loose soil, its movements became more and more frantic. Liam didn't know whether to laugh or cry, and found himself cheering the pathetic thing on. "No, no! Not that way. To your left! Your left!" When he looked up, Stan was staring at him. "Would you like everyone to know what you getting up to?" "Oops." Liam cast a guilty look over his shoulder. The guard hadn't stirred. He had all but given up hope when the body sagged, toppling onto its chest - defeated. Liam let out a groan. Quick as a wink, the head twisted and crashed onto the neck with a clank. That filled it with new energy. The body heaved itself onto its knees again, then to its feet. Its head snapped back and Liam found himself snared by its look of predatory hunger. Its mouth gnawed at the bind. Liam thought the arms would be next but he was wrong. Stan had something small in his hand which he held out over the pit. "Shine your light on this," he told Liam. Stan called out over the edge. "You know what this is." It wasn't a question. The supersoldier's eyes narrowed. Its face was almost triangular, skeletal. "We took it from your partner." Stan dabbed a finger at a small screen. "I'm confident this symbol here is indicating you are in a dangerous position, friend." Skin stretched over the supersoldier's cheekbones as it bared its teeth. "You try to escape in any direction from this hole and you'll fly apart into a million irretrievable pieces. You are stuck here until someone decides to take you apart again or you decide to do it yourself." Liam wasn't sure anything was showing on the screen. He couldn't even be sure the device Stan held was working; there was no electrical glow or blinking lights on it. However, it was unlikely the supersoldier could see that. "Before I return your arms" - Stan kept a firm grip on the last bag - "we must establish some rules. Do you understand?" The body's chest went in and out three times before it tipped its head. "I've brought you three gifts tonight. The first - your life - should be obvious, as is the second, which I know is very important to you." The supersoldier's glance glided to Liam then back to Stan. Liam was confused. What was the second gift? Whatever it was, it wasn't obvious to him. "The third gift may be no gift. I apologize if it is not, but you see, I can not work it out. Perhaps if you have a look it at you may be able to tell us what it is. Perhaps then we might be able to discuss your situation. Work something out." That didn't sound right. Liam tugged on Stan's shirt. "Should we be making promises?" Stan ignored him. "Do you accept these terms?" Another nod from the supersoldier. "I'm going to give you your arms. You will remove the gag from your mouth. You will not draw attention to yourself. I will lower something to you and you may examine it. Do not attempt to keep the artifact. Make no attempt to climb. I will paralyze you. If you reach too high, you will be ripped apart. I think you do not that. Not after what I've shown you tonight." It looked like the supersoldier was weighing up Stan's words as its eyes rolled back and forth from Stan to Liam. Only its eyes. There was nothing fish-like about it now. It was pure reptilian. Stan must have been satisfied they had reached an agreement because he threw the last limbs into the pit. Neither arm touched the ground. They fell like missiles honing in on their targets and rang with a metallic bang when they connected. Raw flesh lined up and healed like magic seams. Whole again, the supersoldier lifted its hands to the back of its head, tearing at the knot with a savage yank. Liam almost expected the newly formed man to leap at the walls of the hole, but it didn't. Freed of the gag, it settled back and waited. Stan put the strange device down and picked up something else: Rudi's artifact. He wound a length of rope around it, knotting it in place. Liam's vision was unsteady; the closer he got to the object, the blurrier his vision became. He had to suck in; only the cool night air filling his chest soothed his stomach. There was no point denying it now. He'd bet anything the object was the cause of his nausea and headaches. Sal licked the back of his hand like she was trying to comfort him. Stan started feeding the rope down the shaft. Liam risked a glance over the edge and saw the object going down, secured in the rope. The supersoldier's intense stare was locked on him, sending cold waves through his body. Its arms went out automatically when the object brushed its chest - but its head never moved, as though the only thing that interested it at the moment was Liam. Stan grunted, breaking the connection. Liam saw the object in the supersoldier's hands. It was holding it at arm's length. There was no discernible sign the object was having any effect. Liam was about to ask Stan what they should be looking for when Stan leaned over the pit again. "Keep your hands on it," he said. "What do you feel?" The supersoldier appeared confused. Its brows lowered and its cheeks drew in. Its facial expression became harsh and it glared up at Stan. Its lips curled back in a snarl and it began to speak. "Then get yourself an iron plate and set it up as an iron wall between you and the city, and set your face toward it so that it is under siege, and besiege it. This is a sign to the house of Israel." Stan muttered under his breath. "What's wrong?" There was consternation on Stan's face as he looked down. "It hasn't worked." "Maybe it just needs to hold it a bit longer?" Stan drew in a sharp breath. "I don't think so." The supersoldier was still holding the object, inspecting it more closely now. It caught Liam's stare again and its mouth broke into a soulless grin. "And above the firmament that was over their heads was the likeness of a throne, as the appearance of a sapphire stone: and upon the likeness of the throne was the likeness as the appearance of a man above upon it." Stan brushed Liam's next question off before he had a chance to ask it. "Don't listen to his nonsense, Liam. A little learning is a dangerous thing." "What do we do now?" The queasy feeling in Liam's stomach returned double-strength when he realized the situation they were in. Truth be told, he'd expected Stan's plan to work. They were going to have a lot of explaining to do. "I wonder." Stan fingered his chin. He tugged the rope and began hauling it up. There was no resistance from the supersoldier. On his hands and knees Liam leaned forward to study their problem. The supersoldier seemed to have lost interest in the object now that Stan was pulling it up. Liam winced as it struck a rock jutting out from the wall of the shaft. It bounced and slipped from the rope binding, landing at the feet of the supersoldier, who stooped to pick it up. This was going from bad to worse. "Stop." The supersoldier froze at Stan's voice, arm down-stretched. Not frozen from fear, Liam realized. Stan must be doing something to hold it in place. Its head could turn - and it swiveled up - but it was stuck in its bent position. Liam turned to Stan, aghast. "What do we do?" "We retrieve the artifact." Liam gulped. "How?" Stan pulled up the end of the rope and studied it, his face impassive. The knot must have loosened and come undone. "You are light," he said, not looking at Liam. "I have paralyzed the reborn - although I'm not sure I need to. You will have to climb down to get it." Liam couldn't believe what he was hearing. Stan wanted him to climb down into the pit with the supersoldier? His old friend had obviously decided they were going ahead with the new plan. He was already putting more knots into the rope. Liam could see why. They would give him more purchase for the climb. "I would do it myself, Liam, but there's nothing I can secure the rope to up here. I can hold your weight. There's no way you could hold mine." Liam wondered how far away the daylight was. It was hard to know how much time had passed. "Maybe we should get help ..." "No need," said Stan. "But ..." Liam didn't want to say what was on his mind. "They're going to know soon enough ..." "Know what?" Liam fidgeted. "About the supersoldier. About what we did." "Not necessarily." Stan put a hand on Liam's shoulder. "Do you trust me?" Liam nodded slowly. "Everything we're doing tonight is for the best, Liam." Liam looked down again. The supersoldier hadn't moved. Its eyes were still cold and the grin on its mouth still chilling. How could he have been cheering the thing on minutes ago? Stan squeezed his shoulder. "He won't hurt you." The second Liam put his hands on the rough surface of the rope, his heart rate jumped. The pit wasn't really that deep, but he wouldn't want to fall ... Rather than think about the monster below him, Liam focused on edging himself down safely. Bracing himself with his feet and hugging the rope close, he inched down the shaft. His arms felt like they were being pulled from his shoulders. The strain on his hand re-opened the cut; he was leaving small smudges of blood in the rope. How he fell was a mystery. He lost his footing when the tiny ledge which had *seemed* stable crumbled under his weight and his sweat made the rope go slick in his hands. He yelled and threw his arms out in a futile attempt to cling to the rock wall. His fingers raked the jagged surface, losing precious skin as the shaft broke his fall but couldn't save him from sliding. He landed in a tangle of legs and arms, struggling and wheezing. "Lemme go!" His hands scrabbled into and punched the supersoldier's face. Somewhere in the fall he'd picked up a mouthful of grit; he choked, coughing and spluttering. It took a moment for him to comprehend that he was now upright on his feet. "He will not hurt you, Liam." The light from above was almost blinding. Liam shaded his eyes but he could hear Stan's voice from behind the glare. The supersoldier stood before him, wiping its hands over its face. Liam had drawn blood in his panic. "Paralyze it again!" "He will not hurt you." "Why do you keep saying that?" Liam yelled. *You're not the one down here.* But, then again - did Stan have a point? The supersoldier hadn't just broken his fall - it had tried to catch him. Now it seemed frozen, hands still on its face. Stan must have done his trick again. It unsettled Liam to expose his back to the supersoldier as he bent to grab the object. He wasn't really surprised his stomach started swooping and soaring when he touched it. He remember Rudi's description: a piece of broken pottery only thicker and heavier. The way it made him feel there was no way it could have guided *him* halfway round the world. Rudi had implied it had thoughts, personality. Liam sensed nothing. "Got it," he yelled up to Stan, wanting nothing more to get out of the hole. "Shall we try one more thing?" Liam was starting to think Stan was a little bit crazy. Surely getting the hell out of here was the best thing either of them could do? "What?" he said warily. "Try touching the artifact to his head." "What?" "Hold the artifact against his forehead." "Why?" It came out a touch grumpy. After what he'd been through, Liam felt entitled to some hostility. What would touching the object to the supersoldier's head achieve? The supersoldier was like a statue. There was no fear in its eyes when Liam did as he was asked. There was a little tingling in his hands - like pins and needles - but if Stan was expecting the supersoldier to give any sign of being cured, Liam didn't know what it could be. "Anything?" The supersoldier spoke. "I saw that from what seemed his waist up he looked like glowing metal, as if full of fire, and that from there down he looked like fire; and brilliant light surrounded him." "Guess that's a no?" "So be it." Stan sounded unimpressed. "Liam? How about you? Do you notice anything." Liam shrugged. "I don't think so." "Very well, then." Stan paused in thought. "Have you got the artifact secured?" "Yeah." The object wasn't much bigger than the palm of Liam's hand, nor was it too thick. It wasn't as big as he had anticipated and it went into a pocket with a bit of cramming. The pocket had a zip. He made sure it was pulled all the way to the top. He was preparing to haul himself up the rope when the supersoldier said something normal-sounding. "I can help you." Liam stared at it. That had almost sounded polite - helpful, even. Liam peered up. "Ah, Stan? It says it wants to help me." "Then let him. It'll save us some time." It wasn't the response Liam was expecting and he suffered a moment's indecision. The coldness in the supersoldier's face hadn't changed. Maybe - like Stan - expression was something aliens had to work at - even those that had started off human. And this one had only just got itself back together again. The supersoldier held out its arms and belatedly Liam realized Stan must have unfrozen him. "Um, thanks." He looked the supersoldier in the eye. This had to be the one who'd rushed Mulder, the same one his father had dismembered - he just knew it. He should be frightened - and he was - but he was no longer sure *what* he was afraid of. The supersoldier's idea was to put Liam on his shoulders so that he could reach a slight ledge about six feet up. It lessened the distance Liam would have to pull himself up. There was no way to keep his heart from racing as the supersoldier put out a hand to help him. Liam couldn't wait to be out of the hole; the climb went much faster than he'd thought. Stan reached a hand down to help him over the edge. Liam flopped on his back for a breather. "Have you got it?" Liam unzipped his pocket. He would be glad to be rid of the object. He had a duty to see it returned to Dr Scully's office. He sat up. "Wouldn't it be quicker if I put it back and you could - " He waved his hand in a vague motion. It seemed rude to say "take care of the supersoldier" out aloud. Anyway - hadn't the supersoldier just been nice to him? "Stan? Maybe he is cured! Why else would he help me?" Stan busied himself collecting the sacks. "Try not to read too much into that, Liam. You weren't a threat to him and a good soldier doesn't waste energy on a trifle." "So, he hasn't been cured?" "No." Stan glanced in the direction of the camp. "It would be quicker - and safer for you - if you went back to your room. I can take care of everything from here - but," he said, cutting off Liam's protests, "I can see you're set on doing this. You're a good boy, Liam - when you're not breaking too many rules." He wound the rope around his arm. "I'd better come with you anyway - just in case you run into someone up early." Satisfied, Liam pocketed the object; it was only right that he took the responsibility of carrying it - even though his stomach gurgled. He risked another look down. The supersoldier was sitting but his head still craned up. "What's going to happen to him?" Liam asked as they dragged the cover back over the pit. "I'll take care of it." Stan flicked the empty sacks over his shoulder. He took a final look into the pit and in a raised voice said, "Maybe when I come back it will have solved the problem for us." Liam sucked in his cheeks. "Are you sure he can't escape?" "He's feeling very sleepy. He won't try anything before I return. And if he does - well, maybe that will be a blessing." They left Sal to watch over the makeshift cell. Stan said he had absolute confidence in her ability. The guard was still sleeping. Liam heard little snores when they passed. He stumbled along muddling through chaotic thoughts. "Stan?" he said at last. "Yes?" "Is the object what you thought it was?" "Probably." "But it didn't cure him." "No." "What if we didn't give it enough time to work?" "If it were going to work, it should have been immediate." "You said it could do other things. Do you still think that?" "We'll have to see, Liam." "What kind of things?" "Perhaps the best way to describe it is as a battery pack - " At that moment Stan put his finger to his lip and Liam knew to be silent. They switched off their flashlights. Liam saw a pinprick of bobbing light which disappeared into the dark. "Not coming our way." Stan resumed his walk at a slower pace. They made it to a building entrance without seeing any other signs of life. They tread lightly on the stairs to the laboratory so their footsteps didn't echo. Liam grew easier the closer they got to Dr. Scully's laboratory. He wanted nothing more than to jam the object back into the safe and be done with the thing. He had no cause to doubt Rudi van der Veldt's assertion that it had healed and compelled him halfway round the world, but the only thing it did for Liam was make his stomach roll. Liam slipped under Stan's arm into the laboratory, heading to the inner office and unzipping his pocket. With a grimace, he plunged his hand in and withdrew the thing. His mission was just about complete when Stan put a hand on his wrist. "Will you give me one last look?" He borrowed Liam's smaller flashlight, holding it close to the thing, running the beam over its surfaces. Liam stretched up and unhooked the print frame. "Anything?" He was holding out a hope that the cause of their unsuccessful excursion might reveal something useful. Stan's eyes went to some markings on the edge of the object that Liam hadn't noticed before. The front and back were mostly smooth but the thick edges were rough - as though the thing was part of something larger. The markings looked incomplete, like half of them were on another piece. "I can't be sure -" A voice behind them interrupted. "Drop whatever you're holding and put your hands where I can see them." Liam's heart leapt as the fluorescent lights blinked on overhead. For the second time in his life, he found himself facing Dr. Scully with a gun in her hand. She filled the doorway. He watched fury and shock ripple over her face when she caught sight of him. Her lips parted, then her shoulders relaxed when Stan turned round. "Hey, Scully." Liam, confused by the voice, looked to his old neighbor and gaped. Stan was gone; in his place, object in his hands behind his back, stood Mulder. Dr. Scully snarled. "Liam, get behind me. Now!" There was no way he was not going to obey that tone of voice, but when he would have stepped toward her, his legs refused to work. He looked helplessly between his friends. It was just like the day Stan walked into camp - only this time Dr. Scully looked furious and Stan wasn't Stan - he was Mulder. Mulder put out a hand (not the one with the object), showing his palm. "Scull -" Her anger intensified. "Oh please! You've been pulling that stunt on me for years." Mulder - *Stan?* - put out his other hand, revealing what was in it. Dr. Scully blanched, shaking her head. "No, not that -" "I need it. You don't." Mulder-Stan was calm, gentle. Dr. Scully looked like she wanted to argue but had lost her nerve - or couldn't open her mouth to get the words out. Liam's body still felt like stone and he assumed Stan had done something to her as well until her hand suddenly went to the back of her neck. "I can't let you take it." "Trust me." Stan morphed back into his usual skin and advanced on Dr. Scully. "You know I don't want to hurt you. I can do more with it than you." Her eyes glittered. "What? What can you do with it?" "You know this is pointless." He walked into the barrel of her gun and touched a finger to the bridge of her nose. "You really *don't* need it, Agent Scully." "Maybe not today," she said. "You have everything you need, Dana. You don't need this." "Is that why you came here? To take it?" He shook his head. "Like everyone here I came seeking answers." "Did you find them?" "Some." "How nice for you." There was bite in her voice. "*Things* are ... not as we thought." Her eyes narrowed. "What things?" "It does not matter. I was wrong about someone, about their ... talents." "That's right. You *were* wrong - ten years off the mark, in fact. When you leave, you make sure your ... brethren ... are brought up to date with the situation. I swear I will kill -" Stan stopped her with his smile. "You gave the world a gift, Dana - that gift will save you. You *know* what that gift is. We are not all so lucky." It happened so quickly - Stan grabbed her shoulders and pulled her into the room with so much force she fell to the floor and struck her head against the desk. "Help her," Stan said as he disappeared through the doorway.