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Hi all! It's been a whiile since I've posted here so I hope you enjoy this one; it was written at warp speed (to get it in before season two begins) and late at night, so bear with me. WARNING: NO graphic sex inside! ;-) It would be good to have seen the episode "Ice"- but since that ep is one of the top five, I doubt it will be much of a problem.

Comments can be sent to madge@uclink.berkeley.edu and are welcome. All the usual disclaimers apply.

FROSTBITE- PART I, by Peggy Li September 16, 1994

[FBI HEADQUARTERS, Washington, D.C.]

Assistant Director Walter Skinner was not a man to sweat  

under pressure. Yet for the second time that morning he reached for his handkerchief and wiped his brow, giving himself an excuse to break eye contact from the man who sat smoking in the chair opposite him. The man waited patiently for Skinner to continue.

"She is not an appropriate choice, sir."  Skinner tried hard  

to keep the conviction he felt in his mind steady in his voice. "I don't see how she could be a viable option to the expedition; she's too great a risk." Skinner watched as the implacable smoking man blew another leisurely puff of smoke from between his lips, and tried again. "She knows too much, sir."

"*That* is why I want her up there," the smoking man  

replied calmly, the cigarette smoke curling out of his nostrils and the slight smile cut into his face. Skinner felt his insides twist as he imagined a demonic laugh rising out of the sinister figure before him, and wondered, briefly, just how much one had to pay for selling one's soul to the devil.

Putting on his best poker face, Skinner reached for the  

phone and felt very, very, sorry for what he was about to do.

[The following day. 12:45PM Eastern Standard Time]

Special Agent Fox Mulder pretended to study the map  

spread out upon his desk. He traced his pencil idly over the surface, randomly connecting the dots that marked the locations of the recent rash of shopping cart thefts in Birmingham, Alabama. The rest of the cubby-holed agents had plenty to do while he was stuck with the most mundane and tedious of cases in white collar crimes; a peculiar side-effect of his recent dismissal from the X- files. Sighing, Mulder opted to put his John Hancock on the case he had before him and pass it off on some other shmo, most likely the fresh-from-the-academy Cleaning, who, with a name like that, was the only person in the huge office who was one rung below Mulder on the popularity ladder.

Mulder slapped the file into the "Out" box and reached for  

the next file in the "In" box while he glanced at the clock for the fifth time in so many minutes. *I bet this is what half the class is doing right now,* he thought wryly, then imagined Scully pacing in front of a blackboard in full lecture mode, eyes flashing and lips curling to form those perfectly articulated sentences, with thirty or so testosterone-drenched trainees in the audience. "Maybe not," he corrected out loud with a small laugh, drawing glances from his neighboring agents, and ignoring them. Mulder heaved another sigh, opened the folder but did not read, and allowed himself the luxury of thinking about Dana Scully.

He had been thinking of her quite often lately;  she had been  

assigned to the Academy, back to her old job of teaching, which he knew she would enjoy. It was still an ego boost- and a comfort- though, to hear her voice and to hear her talk about how she missed working on the X-files and working with him. She never actually said so in so many words, of course, but Mulder knew. As time of their separation had increased from days to weeks, however, the mutual bitching sessions about their predicament had become less frequent as the higher-ups gave them more to do. Mulder glanced at the clock again like an impatient trainee; Scully's class would be out in exactly four minutes and her call would be in twenty.

[1:20PM]

The light on Mulder's phone blinked, indicating an outside  

connection; Scully was on time as usual.

"Mulder here.  Hey Scully, class is no longer in session?" 
"Mulder..."  Scully hesitated and Mulder stopped nibbling  

on sunflower seeds. He stopped reclining and leaned forward in his chair.

"Scully, what's wrong?"  Mulder could hear the background  

commotion of a large group of people and surmised that Scully wasn't in her office. "Where are you?"

"Nothing's wrong, I hope. I'm in the Commons at the  

Academy because I've been called into a meeting with the CIC."

"You sound nervous." 
"Yeah," Scully replied,  "I feel like I've been caught  

smoking in the little girls' room or something and have been called into the principal's office for a reprimand."

"I hope it goes okay."  Scully was silent at the other end of  

the line. "What?" he asked.

"I was just waiting for the witty commentary on my high  

school career, Mulder. Your desk job hasn't made you go soft on me, has it?"

Mulder looked around the monochromatic office, at the  

rows and rows of hunched-over agents wearing identical expressions on their faces, and replied wearily, "You know, Scully, I think it has."

Scully's voice became hushed and concerned, "Mulder,  

we've got to stay on our guard. You know we will…"

"I know, Scully," Mulder replied quickly. "I haven't given  

up. I can't-" Mulder knew he was begining to sound like a broken record and decided to switch gears. "Scully, these talks with you are what keep me grounded, keep me down to earth." He smiled at the irony and let his voice carry traces of his amusement, "For once your sane and reasoning voice is a welcome addition to my day."

"I'm your 'one sane voice in this crazy world'?  I think  

you've got that backwards, Mulder. You like to hear from me because for once I agree with you and now you aren't the only one who sounds completely nuts." Scully was teasing him but Mulder was reminded of the true dire nature of their situation and was instantly sombered.

"Oh wait, hold on." 
"Scully?" 
"I've gotta go.  I'll let you know what's up." 
Mulder hung up the phone, hoping that Scully's meeting  

with the commander-in-chief would be nothing but routine. Deep in thought, he rubbed his lower lip and his eyes drifted once again to the clock on his desk.

[4:22PM]

Mulder had just returned from the archives, his tie dripping  

over the stack of papers he was trying to negotiate onto his small desk when his phone buzzed for attention. Hastily sliding papers across his chair Mulder reached for the phone.

"Mulder." 
"Hi Mulder." 
Mulder took off his glasses and found an empty corner of  

desk to sit on. "Did they give you a detention, Scully, or are you going to be valedictorian this year?"

Scully's reply sounded stiff, forced.  "Something's  

happening that I had to tell you about."

"What is it?" 
"I've been reassigned, Mulder, I- I can't talk about it right  

now." Mulder distinctly heard the sound of flesh being slapped over the receiver and someone talking to Scully in gruff tones. He frowned in confusion, then Scully was back on the line. "Mulder, I just want you to go to my apartment and lock up for me, would you?"

"Scully, wait, what's going on...?" 
"Just do this for me Mulder.  I don't have time to explain.  I  

think I left a window open."

Mulder grit his teeth in concern and said warningly,  

"Dana…"

"A window, Mulder.  It's open.  I've got to go, bye." 
The line clicked dead and Mulder just gaped at the receiver.   

Agent Bledsoe leaned over from his cubicle and cracked, "What's the matter, Mulder, you look like you've just seen a ghost!" Mulder gathered his things and left in the wake of the laughter that spread across his corner of the room, unfazed. All he could concentrate on was the fact that Scully was being reassigned and didn't sound the least bit pleased about it. His mind raced over the possibilities. They had been working on a few side-projects together, Mulder doing most of the legwork while Scully made discrete inquiries from her end. They had decided early on that what they needed to do to get the X-files reopened and expose those who were supressing the truth was to find definitive proof that extraterrestrials existed before they could claim a government cover-up. In esssence, nothing much had changed; they were still investigating X-file cases, but there would be no slide shows for a while.

Shrugging into his trenchcoat, Mulder realized that up until  

this moment, he had taken it for granted that eyes would be soley upon him and he realized angrily that he may have made a grave error. He had to find out what was happening to Scully and hoped that he would be in time to intervene, if necessary. And if he could.

[5:33PM]

Mulder flipped on the lights of the bath and scanned the  

room warily, but nothing seemed out of place. On the contrary, the air was stale and musty and Mulder had been unable to find the open window that Scully had been so concerned about. Ever since her move to Quantico, Scully only visited her D.C. apartment on weekends, but still considered it her home. Mulder had discreetly peeked into her closet only to find her suitcases and other traveling gear still intact.

He had been to Scully's apartment many times before, but  

never without her present. He felt uncomfortable, awkward. Fingering the couch where he often sat for one of their late-night debates, he found himself bending his legs to sit. He had a hunch that if she was going to contact him again, it would be here at her apartment; she had made a point of drawing him there specifically. So Mulder sat and listened to the silence of Scully's apartment, and wondered, worried, where she could be.

[DOOLITTLE AIRFIELD, Nome, Alaska 2:57 PM Pacific Standard Time]

Russ Jarvis was annoyed.  They had been ferrying  

equipment, people, and supplies through the airfield for over two weeks now, and the last shipment had gone out three days ago. He had been looking forward to returning to his regular schedule when they informed him that there was going to be a last-minute passenger he had to fly up to the cape that day. He had protested on the grounds that the clear weather they had been experiencing was bound to turn bad, but how could he refuse when they insisted?

 
Russ pulled out his checklist and started at the top.  He  

wanted his plane in peak condition to make this last hop. While Alaska was officially part of the good ol' US of A, Jarvis had learned from experience that there was only one law that governed this far North; the law of Nature, and it just wouldn't do to be caught by a lady with his britches down.

[6:00PM EST]

Mulder picked up a book lying on the coffee table and  

opened it to read. He felt almost voyeuristic, violating Dana's things, but there was an overriding curiosity that compelled him to nose around in her belongings.

They had become so much less formal after their official  

partnership was dissolved. Mulder had secretly wondered about what would happen to their relationship outside the X-files and was pleased to discover that they were as good at being friends as they were as being partners. But they had always been friends, hadn't they? *You are getting soft, Mulder* he thought with bemusement. He scrunched down into the couch and began to read, clinging to the faith that Scully would somehow contact him, even if it meant violating regulations. Two images instantly flashed into Mulder's mind: one was of Scully the day they had met and he had accused her of spying on him. He would never forget the look of disbelief and cold, analytical reasoning she had appraised him with that first day, for he expected to never see it again.

The other image was of Scully getting into her car to leave  

for Quantico, knowing full well why the X-files were being dissolved, and the look of anger and distrust and fiery independence that she had embodied that day. *That* was the Scully who would bend the rules to contact him and Mulder hoped it would be soon. He glanced at the clock on Scully's wall and conceeded to himself that Scully wasn't the only one to have changed over the last year. The lone Fox was no longer quite so alone.

[ICY CAPE, Alaska 5:50PM PST]

Russ returned to his single-engine airplane, happy to be  

leaving the godforsaken place. He had left the engines running so they wouldn't freeze in the sub-zero weather and also so he could make a quick gettaway. He was now two days behind his usual Nome-to-Anchorage supply route, but when the Government said jump, Russ had asked, "How high?" He squinted across the frigid airfield, if one could call it that, and tried to make out the lone figure of the passenger he had just dropped off. The white snow parka blended in very well, even when the wind wasn't blowing snow in every direction, but on this clear day he could just make out the dark color of snow boots and the coppery smear of red hair contrasted against the ice.

He got into his plane and felt truly sorry for anyone who  

had to be stuck on the icefloe. His passenger had said very little on their flight up, perhaps already knowing that he wouldn't have been able to answer any questions anyway.

He taxied the plane down the track that had been marked  

with sputtering pink flares and thanked God that the reported four- day window of clear weather had held as promised. It would be clear sailing once he was off the ground.

Russ brought his little plane around in a lazy circle, his eyes  

just picking out the solitary blob of a human being moving off towards the compound situated about a hundred meters to the east. He could imagine the young woman, lost in her parka and shivering in the Arctic cold, and wondered who in their right mind would send anyone to this place. "All in the name of science," he muttered to himself, when a light suddenly flashed on his control panel. Russ reluctantly turned his eyes from the lone figure, which was rapidly becoming just a pinprick against the snow, and flew steady on his course back to Nome.

[8:55PM EST]

Mulder woke with a jerk, his body feeling sticky and his  

clothes wrinkled. The book he had been reading had slipped from his hands and one side of his face held the imprint of the couch fabric he had been sleeping on. He glanced at his watch and ran a hand across his face and hair. Still no sign of Scully.

Mulder quickly made up his mind to call Quantico and find  

out what they could tell him. Fishing around in his pockets, he realized he had left his cellular phone in his car. "Damn," he muttered, then spotted a phone in the kitchen just beyond. Mulder reached for the reciever when he noticed the answering machine sitting on the kitchen counter. A strange feeling overcame him and he pushed the "messages" button. Dana's voice came clearly through.

"You have reached Dana Scully.  I'm not able to come to  

the phone right now, so please leave a message." The answering machine beeped and Mulder felt a selfish urge to hear her voice and play the message once again. His finger poised over the button when suddenly, it all clicked into place. Mulder saw that this machine had no messages; but Scully also had a private machine. He moved into the little hallway and found the second answering machine on the sideboard. The red messages light was flashing, beckoning him to press it; Mulder pressed it.

It whirred and clicked and finally the message played.   

"Mulder, when you get this message I will be on my way to my new assignment." Scully sounded breathless, edgy. "They haven't given me any information; no destination, no contacts, nothing. They have given me orders to maintain communications silence, which I guess I've just breeched." There was a slight pause in the message, then Scully continued. "I don't know how long it will be before I can contact you again, or when I'll know more. Don't worry about me, ok?" Mulder clenched his fists, "Take care." The machine clicked and hummed to a standstill. Mulder was puzzled until the machine's mechanical voice intoned, "Four-oh-five, PM." Hitting the machine's erase button, Mulder headed for the door. He now had all the pieces and he wanted to go home to the droning of his TV set to figure out how they fit together.

Scully's conversation with him at the office had come  

*after* the recorded message; Mulder felt sure that she had somehow conveyed to him the destination of her new assignment within those few moments. He would check the phone records at the Bureau in the morning. Until then, he decided that Scully would be alright; she had just wanted to let him know where she would be and he felt confident that if she were to get in trouble, she would find a way to reach him again. Until then, all he could do was wait. And perhaps do a little poking around on his own.

  • * *

[ICY CAPE 6:00PM]

Dana Scully looked up into the sky and watched her only  

means of escape fly south across the white horizon. She stifled the pointless urge to shout at the top of her lungs to call the small airplane back and had to face facts. She was stranded in Alaska. They had gone to great pains to get her there, too; in Virginia she was told practically nothing until she was loaded on a plane to Seattle. They hadn’t even given her any time to pack or to contact her friends at the Academy- somehow Scully had managed to make a call beforehand on her private line on the pretext of checking her messages, and left a message for Mulder about her reassignment. She knew she was being watched at every turn and couldn’t risk talking to Mulder directly at that point, but felt it vital that he know what was happening to her. Instead of landing in Seattle, the plane was diverted and she got word that her true destination was Alaska. After she had protested loudly, she was told that the secrecy was necessary because it was a highly sensitive mission and that word came down from the top of the brass that she was to be a part of it- quite an honor. She was told to make contact with those who would become worried by her extended absence, and with someone watching over her shoulder, was allowed to make phone calls. The first call went to her mother…the second call went to Fox Mulder.

Dana picked up the supplies she had been provided with at  

Nome and began the march towards the corrugated iron outpost that looked like a black beetle entrenched in the snow, low and hugging the ground, her way marked by a line of pink flares. Even in the cold, the exertion was making her sweat under her parka. As she trudged closer and closer to the nearest building, she also began to sweat from fear.

Just being there made her frightened;  her last experience at  

the Icy Cape had been horrific and she never thought she’d find herself there again. She stopped in front of one of the doors and hesitated. Her official assignment was to be there as some sort of “scientific observer”- apparently the FBI wanted to know firsthand just what the Government Advance Research Project was doing back in the Arctic. Scully had been assured that this AICP team was not drilling into the ice as deeply as the previous team; just what they *were* doing and how much they knew, she wasn’t told. Details of her assignment and their project were to be provided upon her arrival, but it was obvious to Scully that her scientific background and first-hand experience with the Arctic Ice Core Project incident made her ideal for the job.

Scully didn’t care how qualified she was for this.  She had  

the growing suspicion that they hadn’t told her the whole truth behind what this new project was all about. There was talk about medical breakthroughs and the like but Scully couldn’t shake the feeling that something more was in the works. Her feet beginning to go numb, she realized she couldn’t stand there stalling any longer. She reached for the doorknob when it suddenly turned on its own and rough hands grabbed her by the shoulders and yanked her inside. Scully yelped in surprise and jumped away the instant the hands let her go. She was about to draw her weapon when she was greeted by friendly voices.

“Welcome!  Don’t stand outside on our account!  You must  

be Dr. Scully.” Dana looked up at a huge, towering man of obvious Nordic descent and realized that he was the one to drag her in from the cold. She began brushing snow off of her arms warily and felt her extremities begin to tingle as the warmth of the room immediately began to penetrate.

“That’s right.  And you are?” 
“Svenson.  I’m sorry I surprised you, but I noticed that you  

were standing there for quite some time and thought you might be shy.” The blond man’s laugh reverberated around the small room and Scully smiled weakly as he proceeded to introduce the others present.

Scully recognized the names from the file she had read on  

the way up: Karen Frankel, neurobiologist, was a surprisingly young woman in her thirties who gave Scully a warm smile and a mug of hot chocolate; Joyce Brand and David Brand, husband and wife team of geologists who had been researching Arctic geology for over thirty years; George Tanaka, chemical engineer with an impressive background in both biology and toxicology; and of course, Theo Svenson, microbiologist. One person was missing from the group, however.

“Where’s the team leader, Philip Starky?” Scully asked. 
Svenson gestured to a doorway, “He is in the lab and  

regrets he couldn’t meet you personally. Your arrival was a bit unexpected, and he is in the middle of some tests and could not leave them. He wanted to make sure that we made you as welcome as possible, though. Karen?” He gestured towards Dr. Frankel who moved to give Scully a hand with her bags.

“Dr. Scully, I’ll show you to your quarters so you can settle  

in. You’ll also find all the latest data on your desk so you can get up to speed before dinner.”

Scully appraised Frankel carefully and saw only honesty in  

her dark eyes and round face. “Dana,” she replied, “and thanks.”

The group dispersed as Scully and Frankel made their way  

down a long corridor. Scully still felt apprehensive, but less so after meeting a group of such friendly and intelligent people. She began to think that her fears were unfounded when sign caught her eye and Scully stopped walking.

“Can we go in there?”  She gestured to double doors that  

marked the entrance to the labs.

Frankel glanced nervously at Scully and seemed uncertain  

how to respond.

“I’d like to meet Philip Starky,”  Scully added, giving  

Frankel a warm and innocent smile.

Frankel wasn’t fooled and replied tentatively, “Certainly.   

But we can’t enter the clean-room.”

Scully and Frankel dropped their bags and Scully pushed  

through the double doors eagerly. They entered a dressing area where lab scrubs were provided and a clear view of the inner lab was visible through glass walls. Scully had braced herself for whatever she would find they were experimenting on in the labs but still was shocked at the sight that greeted her within.

A man was seated at a counter at the other side of the room  

with his back to them, using a microscope and handling jars of specimens. But he wasn’t what made Scully gasp; the glass case above the counter was backlit by florescent lights and filled the entire wall. Inside the case, lined up on every shelf, were dozens of glass specimen jars. And within each jar Scully could see the jerking, wriggling movement of a honey-colored worm.

“Wha...?”  Scully managed, fear gripping her and making  

her speechless, “What is the meaning of this? Who authorized these, these,” she gestured at the far wall. “I demand to know what is going on here!”

Frankel took Scully by the arm and Scully shook her off  

roughly, tensed and ready for action. “Dana,” Frankel began, worry creasing her eyes, “I think you better read the reports we have prepared for you. You don’t understand what we are trying to accomplish here and I won’t bother explaining it to you until you read those papers.”

Dana glanced nervously at the wall of worms, edging away  

from it as if the jars were going to bound off the shelves by themselves and fly at her at any moment. She knew that she was in a precarious situation and took a deep breath to steady her nerves. Scully could feel Frankel studying her reaction with interest and hoped she sounded reasonably rational and calm.

“All right.  I resent the fact that I have been denied adequate  

information on this assignment but I will read what you have for me.” Scully gave Frankel an icy glare, “And then I expect some answers from all of you.”

Frankel folded her arms and didn’t seem the least bit upset  

by Scully’s defensiveness. “We’ll have a meeting tomorrow morning. You must be exhausted and you’ll want to get rid of your jet-lag,” Frankel raised a hand to stop Scully’s protest, “we’ll all be thinking more clearly in the morning. Please,” Frankel pushed through the doors and recovered one of the bags, “we’ll answer all your questions in the morning, if we can.” She fixed Scully with a hopeful smile and said quietly, “Then perhaps you can answer some questions for *us*.”

Frankel continued down the hall as Scully followed in bitter  

silence. She didn’t know what questions she could answer for these people; they seemed to hold all the cards. Shivering at the thought of the lab filled with those terrible creatures, Scully prayed that she would be able to handle on her own the information she was about to receive. For no matter how nice or innocent the team of scientists appeared, Scully wasn’t prepared to trust anyone.

[Washington, D.C. 11:00 PM]

Mulder ran a hand across his eyes and used his remote to  

turn off the television. The papers in front of him told him in plain black and white that Scully had been sent to Seattle for a highly sensitive assignment. The fact that “radio silence” was tagged on the file suggested undercover work, most likely in the drug market or dealing with arms smugglers along the boarder. Not exactly Dana Scully’s line of work, in Mulder’s opinion, but the Bureau was always in need of female agents to go undercover, and any case where a large seizure of contraband was possible became high priority for the FBI. But while this information seemed to answer the question of where Scully’s new assignment was, something still didn’t sit right in Mulder’s mind.

It was late, and any leads or inquiries that Mulder wanted to  

follow would have to wait until morning. Mulder was sure he was beginning to make a big deal out of nothing, but would check up on Scully’s whereabouts anyway- just in case.

[Icy Cape 12:30 PM]

Scully carefully removed the chair from where it was wedged against the door handle and returned it to it’s proper place by the desk. Scully cleared some papers from the bed where she had been reading and threw herself down, her eyes burning from fatigue and her back aching. She allowed herself to close her eyes and relaxed for the first time since she had arrived at the outpost. She was tired and her muscles were just beginning to unwind, but she still could not go to sleep. Sitting up, Scully pulled her hair into a knot and wearily pulled out her laptop. She moved to sit at the desk and settled down to write in her field journal. She’d picked up the habit from Mulder and found it was a good way to help organize her thoughts.

At the thought of Mulder, Scully felt her heart leap as she  

wondered if he had received her messages. She selfishly wanted him to be there with her, be there to help her get through this expedition, but more specifically, - could she even admit this to herself?- be there so she could draw strength from his presence.

Pushing her thoughts of Mulder aside- his wry smile- Dana  

booted up her computer and began to write - “Bring your mittens…” - *DAY 1

The AICP II project has returned to the Icy Cape to further  

study this area, but was carefully warned to not drill below certain depths in the ice. They were told that these precautions were necessary to avoid contamination from super-heavy radioactive elements that were deposited here by the meteorite they were aware had crashed at this site. Following these precautions, the team was assigned to gather as much information as they could about the area, especially details about the size of the impact crater. Research was proceeding as planned until three weeks after their arrival, when the outpost received a distress call originating near Point Lay, about eighty miles to the south. Knowing that aid from Nome would take over three hours to reach them, the team voted to use their own emergency plane and Svenson and Frankel were sent to try and aid the team. They returned to the AICP outpost with three bodies. Judging from the equipment and documents found at the decimated drilling site, Svenson and Frankel discovered they had found a survey team sent by the ARPA that had been taking core samples in search of petroleum deposits. A classic case of “the right hand not knowing what the left was doing.”

The team immediately radioed in their discovery and were  

told to hold the bodies in quarantine, as well as the core samples they had recovered from the drilling site, and that an agent would be flown up immediately. Frankel, who took charge of isolating the bodies, noticed something strange protruding from the head wound of one of the victims. Scientifically curious, Frankel took a sample from the body since they had not been ordered *not* to examine them. Starky was furious with Frankel for violating the quarantine, but was soon fascinated with her discovery. Soon, the whole team was involved in studying their unusual find.*

 
Scully paused in her narrative to pick up the latest reports  

by Tanaka and Brand. She shook her head slowly and still couldn’t believe their findings.

  • While an agent was scrambled to make contact with the

AICP team, the team was making their own progress. Tanaka was interested in the worms’ biochemistry and their possible application in medicine while Brand had begun analyzing the core samples recovered from the Point Lay site for their geological significance. Their findings have been radioed to headquarters and they were awaiting an answer at the time of my arrival on the scene.*

Scully looked again at her closed door, now unbarricaded, and listened for any sounds within the compound. Except for the humming of the heating system, all was quiet.

  • My instructions are to survey and advise the scientific team

for the worms’ possible commercial value- or else, find a way to exterminate them. Either outcome would involve determining the creatures range, living requirements, and behavior.*

Scully licked her lips slowly and continued.

*However, no mention was made in any of the files I have read as to determining the organisms’ origin or ancestry. I do not believe that headquarters is unaware of the possible connection between these creatures and the meteorite that crashed here years ago, and yet no suggestion has even been made that they may be extraterrestrial in origin- which would be more significant a scientific discovery in itself than anything else they may acquire from their study. I believe the scientists themselves are not blind to the fact that they are dealing with something extraordinary here, no matter what their orders are.*

Scully again found herself wishing Mulder was there, knowing that the research being done could possibly give them the answers they’ve been looking for.

*Tomorrow morning I will investigate how much the AICP team has discovered and we will also be receiving instructions via satellite hook-up.*

Scully’s fingers paused over the keys, then she typed rapidly.

*I also must find a way to contact Mulder, though at this point, contact seems improbable.”

Scully hit “save” and let her computer put away her journal under a coded file. The irony of her situation felt like a weight upon her shoulders. Mulder was the one who had insisted these creatures be studied and Scully had persuaded him to forget it. If she hadn’t stopped him, perhaps the existence of E.B.E.’s would’ve been established and the events leading to the shut-down of the X-files would never have occured. Mulder was the one who had wanted to return to the Icy Cape, yet she was the one to be placed in the midst of the research. It made her feel terribly sad and even guilty; Dana found herself fighting back tears that suddenly came to her eyes.

Throwing herself onto the tiny bed, Dana curled up into a  

ball and wept quietly, angry with herself for coming so undone. As she drifted off into welcome sleep, Scully swore to herself that she would make the most of what she found here in the Arctic; for her own sake and for Mulder’s, for Mulder’s…

  • * *

[Washington, D.C. 5:00 AM] *DAY 1* Mulder paused his pen, hit "play" on the small tape recorder on his desk, and listened again to the recording as he continued to write in his field journal.

  • Listening to the recording of yesterday's conversation, I

am reminded that Scully was being very careful with her words and that someone was possibly monitoring her call. I also can't rule out the possibility that Scully was trying to avoid Bureau surveillance. In any case, her "open window" ploy did succeed in drawing me to her apartment where I received her other message.*

Mulder fingered a file that Cleaning had provided him with last night and frowned.

*Her last call had originated from Seattle, Washington, and checking up on her reassignment, I have been able to find conformation that she had been sent there for an undercover operation. This explains the Bureau's desire for "radio silence" and also corresponds with the information Quantico received about Scully's transfer.*

Mulder still wasn't satisfied.  There was something here that 

he just wasn't seeing; Scully should've known that he would be able to get information on her re-assignment as soon as he heard about it, so why the messages? *Unless* she had suspicion that any information he'd receive would be false.

"Good morning, Agent Mulder.  You're up early."
Chris Cleaning, starched and coifed to a hilt, eagerly passed 

by his cubicle to join Mulder. His soft brown eyes and baby-fine hair only emphasized his young age, no matter how polished he tried to get himself to look. Pelted with the usual affection given Academy graduates, Cleaning was awarded such nicknames as "Cleaning Agent" and "Kris Kringle", among others. His pariah status had instantly bonded him to "Spooky" Mulder, although Mulder still hadn't made up his mind about him.

"Agent Cleaning.  You're up early as well, I see.  Be 

careful, or people might think you're trying to get ahead around here."

Cleaning blushed and put his hands in his pockets.  Mulder 

decided to give the kid a break.

"While you're here, Cleaning, do you think you could help 

me out?"

Cleaning brightened up considerably and replied,  "Sure, 

Agent Mulder. Do you need another report?"

Mulder lowered his voice confidentially and Cleaning was 

forced to lean in closer, "I think you are ready to move up from being gopher, Cleaning. I have a job for you." Mulder could see the light in Cleaning's eyes spark as he asked quietly,

"What do you need me to do?"
Mulder hoped he was making the right decision in trusting 

this bumbling, but seemingly competent, young agent. "There's a sting operation going down in Seattle, and I want you to find out just what it's all about."

Cleaning's face registered puzzlement, and he asked slowly, 

"I don't understand…"

Mulder hesitated for only a second, then plowed ahead, "I 

think there may be more going on up there than the Bureau might think." He waggled his eyebrows for emphasis and was rewarded with a start from Cleaning.

"You mean...?  FBI agents?  A conspiracy?"  Mulder was 

nodding to all of the above, "I don't believe it," Cleaning breathed.

"Believe it," Mulder replied. 

[ICY CAPE 7:00 AM]

Scully was greeted the next morning by a steaming mug of 

coffee, murmured "good morning"s and six expectant faces. They had all gathered in the central portion of the main building and everyone looked ready for answers. Scully opted to speak first.

"As you all are aware, I am Special Agent Dana Scully and I 

was sent here by the FBI to investigate what you have discovered here at the Icy Cape. I have read all of your reports so," she looked at each face one by one, "I know what you know."

Philip Starky, a slim man in his fifties with features chapped 

and weathered and hair white as snow, folded his arms and asked, "Where would you like to begin, Agent Scully?"

"Where are the bodies?"  Scully asked coolly.
"In the cold storage room adjacent to this building."  

Frankel replied.

"Good.  I'll begin there.  Frankel, you reported that you 

believed the men were infected by these parasites through…?"

"The ice core samples they had recovered while drilling.  

When examined, they contained the worms in some sort of larval stage. Agent Scully," Frankel paused, and Scully could feel all eyes in the room upon her, "what exactly do you know about this? They won't tell us anything. Have- have you seen these creatures before?"

Scully couldn't read the variety of emotions that were 

playing across everyone's faces and wondered how truthful she should be. "Ye-es. Yes. I've seen these parasites before," a collective breath was released by all, and the questions began in a rush.

"How much do we know about them?"
"Where were they discovered?"
"Who documented this find?"
"Why haven't we heard about this?"
Scully waited patiently for them to stop when one voice 

made itself clear from the rest of the barrage.

"How many have died?"  The crowd fell silent and everyone 

turned to Tanaka, who cleared his throat and asked again, "How many, Agent Scully?"

Scully lowered her eyes and said quietly, "Last year- the 

previous AICP team. Four people- plus others." She looked up and fixed Svenson and Frankel with her gaze, "Like the survey team you found at Point Lay."

"How much do you know?"  Starky asked, and Scully 

began to explain the events that occurred during her investigation of the other AICP team, keeping it as brief as possible- and omitting certain details.

When she was finished, Starky stepped away from the 

group and everyone demurred to his leadership, "What do you plan to do with them, Agent Scully?"

"I've been assigned to find out whether or not they have any 

commercial value- if not, find ways to exterminate them."

Tanaka spoke up immediately, "We've been studying them 

for three days now. They are about as useful as a tapeworm, Scully, and obviously more deadly. And now that I know what they could do to a population, I say we do what we can to eradicate them, then get the hell out of here. We aren't even sure how one gets infected!"

A chorus of voices rose up again as Scully felt panic begin 

to take hold of the group.

"Wait a minute.  WAIT A MINUTE!"  She could feel their 

growing hostility but also noticed that Starky was standing next to her and helping her settle them down by gesturing with his hands. She was instantly grateful. "Now, I agree with all of you that this thing cannot leave this outpost. What it could do to a population is too horrible to imagine. But I ask you all if you are aware that this outpost, built directly over the remains of the previous AICP site, is also part of a meteor crater? And that these organisms may have been carried here by that same meteor?" Scully's unsaid questions hung heavily in the air until Joyce Brand spoke up excitedly,

"That would explain the depth of the ice sheet in this area.  

And the high levels of ammonia in the core samples, of course! Agent Scully, you don't think…"

"I don't know what to think.  I want you people to help me 

find out."

Svenson raised a hand, "But what about the survey team?  

Point Lay is not within the crater radius."

"What if,"  Joyce Brand said, snapping her fingers, "before 

settling here at Icy Cape, the meteor slid and dug a trench along the surface, depositing these organisms along the way. The ice sheet is not nearly as deep at Point Lay, which is why the survey team was drilling for petroleum there. Ancient crash sites all over the world show evidence that great swaths of land were often affected by a meteorite's trajectory before impact."

The room was again abuzz with voices as the scientists 

began digesting this new idea, until Starky spoke up and addressed Scully squarely.

"Agent Scully, is it the governments intention to discover 

whether or not these organisms are extraterrestrial? That *is* what you are hinting at, isn't it? The government knew about their existence from the incident last year- they gave us strict orders to not drill below certain depths in the ice- what are they planning to do now? This kind of investigation can only be done properly in a high-tech facility, not in some Arctic pup-tent such as this. Just what is the government asking us to do?" Starky took a step closer to Scully and looked her full in the face, "Just what are *you* asking us to do?"

Scully did not let her gaze falter as she thought of Mulder 

and replied, "I'm asking you to find the truth."

The nearby radio crackled and Svenson moved to answer.  

"Yes, hold a moment. Agent Scully?"

Scully grabbed the receiver, very aware that everyone could 

hear the transmission.

"Scully here, Doolittle."
"Results of last reports.  Core samples indicate a large 

deposit of petroleum AV3 and rare earth metals at Point Lay drill site and Icy Cape margin. AICP team is ordered to destroy all organism samples and proceed with all due caution to immediately exterminate the threat to future drilling parties. You have 72 hours to complete procedures, then a plane will arrive at your location to remove data and the bodies, do you copy?"

Scully felt numb and drained;  she should have expected 

something like this, but what could she do? "AICP copies. Over."

Scully bent her head in defeat;  when she looked up at 

everyone, her eyes were weary, "Well. You heard? They are going to destroy this site. Again."

"Petroleum AV3 is a highly volatile, extremely high-grade 

crude. Labs have been unable to synthesize a suitable substitute. If this area actually contains a large deposit of this material, it's a coup for the U.S. to acquire it." David Brand explained to the puzzled group. "There's sure to be a lot of profit in it."

Scully was barely listening and turned to address Svenson, 

"Do you have a way to kill them?"

"Not yet, but soon."
Scully put her head in her hands and felt her opportunity 

slipping away- she was between a rock and a hard place. On one hand, Scully believed these creatures should be destroyed- on the other, she and Mulder could use these creatures to prove the existence of E.B.E.'s and get the X-files reinstated…but what were she and Mulder compared to the welfare of humanity? Scully pushed herself off of the radio bench and moved towards the lab. If the government wanted these things exterminated, at least she could make sure that it was done properly so they would never have to deal with them again. Philip Starky grabbed her arm as she moved.

"Where are you going?"  he asked, alarmed.
"I'm going to start by destroying those specimens in the lab.  

This all stops right here; right now," Scully replied, defeated.

"You can't!"  Frankel exclaimed, as the AICP team 

gathered around Dana. "We've got a lot of work to do and we don't have much time."

Scully looked at the faces surrounding her and couldn't 

believe her ears. Philip Starky spoke quietly and released her arm.

"If we only have 72 hours to study these things, we're going 

to learn as much as we can in that time. We find the truth; right here, right now." Heads nodded in silent agreement and Dana felt a ray of hope in her heart that brought a small smile to her lips.

"You got it," she said, "let's get to work."

[FBI Headquarters 4:00 PM]

Mulder could feel his wheels spinning in place as he tossed a 

fax from Quantico into his briefcase. He'd spent all day chasing down papers, being put on hold, and learning little. The file open on his desk outlined the various cases the Seattle office was working on at the moment, but the list was marked "Incomplete" and Scully's name wasn't on it.

Cleaning sidled up to Mulder's side and asked as casually as 

he could manage, "Find what you needed, Agent Mulder?"

Mulder smiled encouragingly at the young man and lied, 

"Yes. You did a good job, Cleaning," the young man beamed and ran a hand through his sandy-blond hair. Mulder decided that Cleaning was all right; if he had been a plant, Mulder would've had a detailed profile- a doctored one- on the case Scully was working on by now. They were patient, but not that patient.

"I need you to do me one more favor, Cleaning."  Mulder 

pushed a wad of bills in Cleaning's direction and watched with amusement as he saw the man's eyes widen. "I need a plane ticket. One way, to Seattle."

[ICY CAPE 10:45 PM]

Scully put away her laptop, turned out her light, and sank 

gratefully into the crisp, cold sheets. The team had been working hard all day in hopes of unlocking the mystery surrounding the parasitic creatures. Gene maps were going to be run the next day, and the cultures the scientists had been working on before Scully even arrived would be ready for analysis as well.

A thought stabbed at her before she drifted off to sleep- she 

hadn't gotten around to completing the autopsies on the bodies they had in storage. Scully wondered what prolonged exposure to the parasite might cause, even if it was only present in a dead body. The cold storage would effectively keep the corpses in suspended animation, but if the worms natural environment was one of sub- zero temperatures…she made a mental note to check it out first thing the next morning. With a yawn and a secret hope that the fine weather they had been having would turn bad to give them more time to gather data, Scully slipped quietly into a deep sleep.

[SEATTLE, WASHINGTON. DAY 3 - 9:00 AM]

Mulder found Sallers, Scrantons, and a Skully, but no Dana 

Scully within the Seattle office records. The Section Chief had had no explanation for the missing record, except that perhaps a delay of the transfer report had occurred, and that Mulder should ask the Washington office for details. Mulder was now positive that Washington was the last place he could look for answers.

[ICY CAPE 9:40 AM]

Scully was putting together a medical bag for the autopsies 

when David and Joyce Brand entered the room.

"Agent Scully, we just wanted to let you know that we're 

going to be setting off some explosive charges- it's part of a geological experiment, so don't think it's an earthquake!" Joyce smiled.

Scully smiled thinly and replied, "Thanks for the warning.  

What exactly are you doing?"

"We're making more accurate assessments of the crater's 

size and depth. We'll be using the holes we have from the removed cores to deposit the explosives. We've got to be extra careful because of the petroleum AV3. The incorrect charge, and BLAM. The whole deposit could vaporize this entire area." David Brand waved a slim canister in the air, "Which is why we have a specially designed charge. You can adjust the amount of detonation by just a twist, here." Brand demonstrated the device to Scully, who began to back out of the room. Joyce Brand just watched her husband and whispered to Scully, "You know men and their toys."

"Uh, right.  Let me know what you find."
Scully left the geologists to continue their experiments, 

shaking her head. Everyone was being extremely productive, but there still was quite a bit to get accomplished before the next morning. She wanted to go do the autopsies at that moment, but knew that Frankel and Svenson would be looking at the gene maps soon; she also had to talk to Tanaka about how to destroy these things, if that was even possible. Looking down the long, cold corridor to the storage shed, Scully sighed and tucked the black bag under her arm. The autopsies would just have to wait.

[Seattle, Washington. 10:20 AM]

After wandering the streets of Seattle for over an hour, Mulder 

parked himself at a small, anonymous cafe and opened his field journal.

  • Still no sign of Dana. The Seattle office was notified of

the transfer, but no record can be found detailing her assignment here. I have come to the conclusion that Scully was never in Seattle to begin with; her whereabouts? Unknown.*

Mulder's hand was shaking as he tried to write legibly. He felt his fears as a cold lump in his stomach and clenched his jaw, determined to go over the facts in his mind clearly and rationally before making his next move.

  • Fact: the message on Scully's answering machine had

been from Virginia.

Fact:  her second call was made in Seattle and her call was 

being monitored by parties unknown.

Fact:  Scully is not in Seattle.*

Mulder's thoughts turned once again to their last 

conversation. He felt that the key was there, that, somehow, Scully had managed to tell him what was happening to her. A surly voice broke into his thoughts.

"Hey you, could you close that window?"
Mulder looked up, confused, "Excuse me?"
A plaid-clad boy with a ring through his nose snarled at 

Mulder, "The WINDOW, hotshot. Close it."

Mulder smirked at the jerk and reached over to the window 

next to him to pull it shut, when some thought began to tickle the back of his mind…

Windows.  He could hear Dana's voice saying, "A window, 

Mulder. It's open." Certainly Scully meant that a window was open in her apartment, or else she could have been referring to…? Mulder bolted to his feet. He needed to get back to the Seattle office to confirm his theory; then he'd have another plane to catch.

  • * *

[At 30,000 feet 12:40 PM]

Mulder leaned back in his uncomfortable airplane seat and  

tried to relax.

His hunch had paid off;  making some discrete inquiries at  

the Seattle office, Mulder discovered that there was indeed a new AICP team stationed at the Icy Cape. That in fact, the outpost had been experiencing some difficulties and an agent was supposedly sent out there to see what was going on.

Danny also had come up with some information about  

Scully’s last phone call. Aparantly, she *had* been on a plane to Seattle, but it was diverted at the last minute and was last seen crossing the boarder into Canadian airspace.

Mulder listened to the droning of the light aircraft and  

thought with dread what he surmised had happened to Dana; the AICP II must have stumbled upon something the FBI knew Scully would recognize- and would agree to destroy. Unless, of course, it destroyed her first.

Mulder glanced out his window and fancied he could see the  

dark shadow against the whiteness that would be Nome. The four- day window of weather- the “window” that Scully had been refering to in her phone call- was going to be closing within a day and Mulder wondered if he’d be able to find a pilot willing to fly him up to the Cape. It really didn’t matter because Mulder would drive a dog team if that’s what he had to do to find out if Scully was alive and well. He looked out again at the vast whiteness of ice and felt some part of him, some part of his soul, call out to Dana across that great void.

[Icy Cape. 1:00 PM]

Scully had a light lunch and prepared to finally do that  

autopsy. Frankel had only done a cursory examination of the bodies when she had noticed the parasite in the body of Chuck Sierra. She did a complete autopsy on Sierra, but hadn’t gotten around to doing Arthur Conley or Matt Spiner. While Sierra died from massive head trauma, Spiner had died from strangulation and Conley from internal hemmoraging. According to Svenson and Frankel, it seemed that Conley and Sierra had fought to the death, while Spiner had been the first to be killed.

Scully glanced around the room and asked Tanaka, who  

was sitting analyzing something under a microscope, “Tanaka, have you seen Karen?”

“Yeah, she went ahead to prep the bodies for your  

dissection.” Tanaka replied.

“Thanks.”  Scully rubbed her eyes and headed down the  

corridor. So far, the team hadn’t come up with any conclusive evidence about whether or not the parasites were actually extraterrestrial in origin; they were certainly different from anything anyone had seen before, but the Brands reminded everyone that the Icy Cape was a whole different environment two hundred thousand years ago, and that a meteorite that contained rare earth metals could possibly have mutated some pre-existing microbes from that era. At any rate, their data still looked promising.

Scully could feel the temperature drop as she neared the  

shed doors. The storage room was purposefully placed far from the main building so they could cut it off from the central heating system and allow it to remain at freezing temperatures. Amongst the food and supplies usually stored in the shed would be three corpses in body bags. Scully yanked open the heavy door and noticed immediately that something was very very wrong; there were only two black body bags lying on the floor of the shed.

“Karen?”  Scully called, droping her med kit and drawing  

her weapon. She flexed her hands to warm them up and glanced cautiously around the shed. Noticing vapors rising from behind a pile of crates, Scully edged closer and peered over them.

“Oh my God!”  Scully choked down the urge to vomit;   

Karen Frankel lay behind those crates, disembowled, steam rising from her opened body. In the distance, Scully could hear George Tanaka calling her name and moved her lips to respond when she sensed something behind her.

Turning quickly, Scully saw from the corner of her eye her  

black medical bag rushing towards her head with deadly force.

[Doolittle Airfield. Nome, Alaska. 1:23 PM]

Mulder had no problem finding out who was making the  

flights to Icy Cape. So far, a simple flash of his ID had given him enough leverage to wander around the airport freely. As long as no one checked up on his story, Mulder would be using every advantage he had to get to the truth. Walking into hanger five, he approached the grizzled pilot and pulled out his ID.

“Russ Jarvis?  I’m Special Agent Fox Mulder and I’ll be  

accompanying you on your next flight to the Icy Cape. This afternoon, if possible.”

“What?  I wasn’t told that I’d have a passenger this time!   

Who do you people think you are, anyways, switching your schedules, ordering me around.” The wiry man narrowed his eyes at Mulder. “My flight wasn’t supposed to be until tomorrow morning. What’s your hurry?”

Mulder opened his mouth and shut it, then replied evenly, “I  

want to take advantage of the clear weather.”

Jarvis rubbed his chin and found it hard to argue with that  

logic. “I guess it would be ok. You people do what you like anyways. When do you want to go?”

“As soon as you’re ready,”  Mulder replied. 
“Give me twenty minutes to prep the plane.” 
Mulder breathed a sigh of relief and watched the old man  

begin puttering around his plane. He now had twenty minutes to see if he could pull the same trick on the radio tower operator and somehow get his hands on the AICP transmissions. It was worth a try.

[Icy Cape. 1:46 PM]

Scully was freezing.  She tried to move her head but it was  

stuck to the floor. She cracked open her eyes and licked her lips, tasting blood at one corner of her mouth. As she regained conciousness, Scully realized in horor that herown blood had forzen her face to the floor.

Moving her hands to cup her cheek, Scully breathed to  

defrost her skin. Her gun still lay within reach, but her position didn’t allow her to see the door to the shed. Straining to hear above the sound of her breaths, Scully could not make out anything.

At last her cheek painfully peeled away from the floor and   

Scully picked up her gun. Turning to the doorway, Scully found the body of George Tanaka. He had been hit on the head, a look of horror and surprise literally frozen on his face. Scully reeled but managed to wedge herself alongside the door and stop to take some deep breaths. Looking back around the shed, Scully noticed the third body bag crumpled in the far corner. Her mind raced to understand what was happening. She glanced at the nametags on the black bags- Sierra, Conley. Spiner’s was the body missing. Spiner, Scully recalled, was the victim who had died from strangulation. Could it be that he wasn’t really dead?

“He was dead, Scully, dead.” she murmured to herself,  

grateful for the feeling of movement in her cold features. The bodies had been in the shed for over five days now; how could anyone survive? Unless…Scully remembered the autopsies of Richter and the previoius AICP members. All the worms but one were dead- the worm that was still living was found in the hypothalamus of the brain. Those bodies hadn’t been there for much longer than these, so perhaps there were worms still alive in Spiner and Conley as well. They really didn’t know what would happen to a parasite once lodged deep in the brain. Perhaps in the brain it pupated into another form, a form that could take more direct control over it’s host. Spiner had recieved the least amount of injury to his body and the extreme cold would’ve prevented any extensive tissue damage due to decay. Scully felt dizzy as she came to the conclusion that Spiner, somehow, had risen from the dead- to kill.

The tinkle of breaking glass and a muffled scream brought  

Scully back into focus. Gripping her gun tightly between her hands, Scully swung out from the protection of the shed walls and moved out down the corridor in the direction of the sounds.

[En route to Icy Cape. 2:11 PM]

Mulder crunched on sunflower seeds and couldn’t believe  

what he was reading. Authority obviously went a long way out here in the Arctic as the radio operator at Doolittle had been more than helpful in providing Mulder with the transcripts of the transmissions between the airfield and Icy Cape once Mulder had flashed his ID.

As he expected, the AICP II team hadn’t intentionally  

unearthed the parasite; the government hadn’t any plans for research, especially considering they had torched the same facility only a year ago. The survey team stumbling on the creatures by accident was certainly unfortunate, but was bound to happen, in Mulder’s opinion. He now could guess why the Bureau had sent Scully; with her previous experience at the Icy Cape and her scientific background, she would be well prepared to handle what she would find. Also, Mulder was sure that this time the government would go in and exterminate the creatures, and Scully had gone on record a year ago stating that she agreed with that policy. Many things had happened to them since then, but that didn’t make these creatures any less deadly, or any less dangerous, to society.

Mulder noticed with interest that there was a vast petroleum  

AV3 deposit directly underneath the meteor impact site. And, as usual, the government had made the recovery of that precious natural resource their top priority. Even if it meant extermination of a new life form, possibly an alien life form.

“How much longer?” he bellowed at Jarvis over the noise of  

the airplane.

“About twenty five minutes, not including landing,”  he  

yelled back. “I’ve never seen anyone so eager to reach the Icy Cape before. Won’t they be surprised?” he added, sarcastically.

Mulder thought of Scully, the look on her face when he’d  

step out of the plane, and wished they could get there faster.

[Icy Cape 2:22 PM]

The sounds were coming from the direction of the lab.   
She found the double doors proped open with the body of  

Svenson, his throat roughly gashed. Careful not to slip in the blood, Scully eased her way into the scrub room, then peered through the glass walls.

Inside the lab, David Brand lay slung over a chair.  Joyce  

Brand had stopped her screaming and was held in the clutches of an unfamiliar form; Scully assumed it had to be Spiner. Ugly purple bruises stained his neck but otherwise his skin looked like cream and his movements were fairly coordinatedfor a man who had been dead and frozen for five days.

Spiner had taken the specimen jars off of the shelves and  

had smashed them open; golden worms writhed all over the lab floor. Spiner stepped on worms with his feet but also held one in his hands with a pair of forceps. He was preparing to drop that worm into Joyce Brand’s ear when Scully opened fire.

The safety glass shattered all around Scully and she ducked  

and rolled into the lab room, bringing up her gun to bear on Spiner. The noise had startled him into dropping the forceps, but he now held Joyce Brand closely to his chest.

“FBI!  Release your hostage at once!”  Scully yelled, not  

caring whether or not Spiner could understand her. “I’m armed!”

Spiner stared at her dumbly, his eyes glassy and his features  

flaccid. Then his lips curled into an open-mouthed gape, and he bent his head towards Joyce’s neck… Scully was ready to fire when David Brand suddenly leaped up from his chair to grapple with Spiner.

“Get down!”  Scully yelled, getting up from her crouched  

position, but it was too late. Spiner deftly twisted Joyce’s neck with a sickening pop, then reached for a heavy drill bit he must have recovered from the storage shed to strike at David.

David Brand was dead before he hit the ground and Scully  

opened fire. She squeezed off three shots as Spiner rushed her when somebody tackled her from behind. Spiner, his wounds only oozing a dark black substance, barreled past them and kept on going through the doors. Scully looked down to find Philip Starky, gasping and terrified.

“Are you ok?”  she asked, struggling to get up. 
“Yes.  No.”  Starky stood, backed against a wall, and  

promptly vomited. “Everyone?” he asked after the heaving was over.

Scully nodded.  “It’s just you and me.” 
“That was Spiner, wasn’t it?  How could that be?” 
Scully shook her head, “I don’t know, Starky.   This didn’t  

happen last time. Perhaps the worms have some sort of more advanced stage, a stage that we hadn’t seen.”

“Until now.” 
“We’ve got to destroy it.” 
Starky shrugged.  “You have the gun, Agent Scully!” 
“I mean all of it, Starky.  This whole site.  And I know  

how.”

[Icy Cape. 2:32 PM]

Mulder jumped out of the plane and Jarvis threw his pack  

down after him.

“Agent Mulder, I’m going to take care of my plane first.   I  

don’t trust this nice weather.”

Mulder waved an affirmative and headed towards the main  

building. It looked exactly like the previous outpost and Mulder had a strange sense of deja vu.

As he entered the building, the first thing he noticed was the  

sharp smell of ammonia and alarms began to go off in his head.

“Scully?”  he called.  “It’s Mulder!”  Slinging his backpack  

around his shoulders, Mulder unholstered his gun and headed in the direction he believed was the lab. Seeing feet protruding from the doorway, Mulder broke into a run down the corridor.

Scully and Starky ran down the hallway towards the back of the main building.

“Are you sure they’re here?”  Scully asked breathlessly as  

Starky bent to fiddle with a padlocked cabinet.

“Yes.  The sheds which cover the drill sites are just beyond  

this wing of the building.”

Scully squinted through a window to see four wooden sheds  

about twenty-five meters from their position. Glancing down at Starky, she pushed him aside by the shoulder.

“Let me,” she said, then fired at the lock. 
 

Mulder heard the gunshot and sprang up from where he was examining David Brand’s body. After listening for a beat, Mulder yelled, “Scully!” but there was no reply. Mulder stepped over Svenson’s body and headed down the corridor in the direction of the storage room when a voice behind him called out, “Agent Mulder!”

Russ Jarvis stood in the outer doorway, his mouth agape  

and his eyes wide with terror. “What’s going on?” he wailed.

“Stay with the plane!”  Mulder ordered, and watched as  

Jarvis turned to go. Just as Mulder turned to proceed back down the hall, he heard a muffled cry and whipped around in time to see Jarvis crumple to the floor. Racing to his side, Mulder cursed and felt for a pulse.

Lifting his hand away from the dead body, Mulder saw a  

figure retreating down a second corridor and got up to follow, wondering if there was anyone left at this outpost who was who they were.

Starky held an armful of geological charges as Scully piled them up like kindling, pausing occasionally to glance down the corridor.

“How much time will we have?” 
“We can set the timers at twenty minutes.  I need time to  

prep the plane and we’ve got to taxi before we take off.”

“Ok.”  Scully tried to give Starky a smile of encouragement.   

“We’re going to make it.”

They both jumped as they heard sounds coming from down  

the hall and moved together to the door.

“Are you ready?”  Scully asked, and Starky nodded  

anxiously. “Go!” Scully pushed Starky out ahead of her as she covered the rear and the two of them headed over the ice to the first shed.

Mulder rounded the bend, gun ready, only to see swirling snow as whoever he was following exited the building. At the end of the hall, Mulder noticed that a supply cabinet was open and funny looking canisters marked “Explosive charges: Caution” littered the floor around it. Finding a padlock with a clear bullet hole through the middle, Mulder murmured, “Scully,” then threw himself out into the cold.

Scully and Starky worked frantically, Scully keeping watch while Starky set the charges to detonate at maximum charge and at the proper depth. They had already loaded one of the core sites and after this one, would go do one more just to be sure the chain reaction would propagate and vaporize the entire impact site.

“How far away do we need to be when this goes off?”   

Scully asked as she attempted to see through a crack in the shed doors.

“Just off the ground.  The petroleum will ignite and  

superheat the surrounding ice or soil layers, and the steam produced will crack or even melt the top crust of ice. It all depends on how much fuel is underground. There. Now just one more should do it…”

Scully backed quickly away from the door and Starky fell  

silent instantly. She pushed him behind her and they backed into the far corner of the shed.

There was a knock on the door and Scully braced herself to  

shoot. The flimsy wooden doors gave way with the next thump and Scully drew a bead on the movement when a voice called out, “Scully!”

Scully dropped her hands and couldn’t believe her eyes.   

“Mulder?!”

Mulder got up from the ground, rushed up to her and  

grabbed her elbows, his eyes all fire and intensity. “Scully, are you ok? What’s going on here?”

Scully drank him in with her eyes and smiled up at him, her  

body going limp in his arms and a dozen questions forming in her mind. “Mulder, you have the most incredible sense of timing…”

“Look out!”  Starky shouted, and Mulder tossed Scully to  

one side as he was pounded from behind.

The two men rolled on the ground until they bumped into  

one of the walls, a struggling mass of arms and legs. Scully brought up her weapon but couldn’t fire; Spiner and Mulder were too close. Mulder did something to Spiner she couldn’t see, then he was up and grabbing her by the hand. “Run!” he said, then yanked her along.

The three of them ran out of the shed and Scully now pulled  

Mulder’s hand towards the runway where Jarvis’ plane was visible.

“We’ve got to get out of here, now!”  she yelled.  “We’ve  

set these explosive charges to detonate petroleum underneath the ice!”

Mulder looked at her in shock, then looked over her  

shoulder and stopped running. “Hey!” he shouted, as Scully turned to see Starky get enveloped in a bear-hug by Spiner a few strides behind them. There was a flash of silver in Starky’s hands and Mulder moved to help him but Scully held him back, leaning against his weight with all her might.

“No!”  she cried, “We’ve got to go NOW!” 
The two of them were blasted off their feet as the entwined  

Spiner and Starky blew up in a dirty grey cloud of smoke and ash. They lay stunned in the snow until Mulder scrambled to his feet and scooped up Scully with both hands. He looked deeply into her startled eyes and said firmly, “We’re going. NOW.”

They stumbled towards the airplane, the howling of the  

Arctic winds taunting them as they struggled through snow drifts until they finally made it to the smooth runway. As they paused to take a breath, Scully gasped,

“Mulder.  The research, the data.  I have material all  

prepared…”

“Forget it, Scully.”  Mulder grabbed her hand again and  

pulled her towards the waiting plane, his face as icy as the ground they stood upon.

 
	*               *               *
The two piled into the airplane just as they heard a deep

rumbling come from the bowels of the earth. They looked at each other for a moment; Scully, her eyes wide, Mulder giving her a lopsided smile, then they both jumped into the pilot’s seats and began scanning the dials and buttons.

“Here it is,”  Scully said, pushing a button, and the warm

engines sprang to life. The ground beneath the plane shook and heaved, and Mulder saw the outpost begin to topple.

“Can you fly this thing?”
“Nope.  But I watched my father fly.”  Scully was calm and

cool as she closed her eyes and tried to visualize exactly what had to be done.

“Dana...”
“Hold on, Mulder.”  Dana grasped a lever and began

pushing it forward, goading the plane to taxi down the runway. The ice pitched and rolled and cracked beneath the plane and steam began venting from the openings in the runway. A sharp crag of ice split directly in front of them and there was no way to avoid it. They both winced at the sound of their wing being torn, but after they passed over the obstacle, the plane had sufficient speed to take off.

Scully struggled with the controls, “Mulder...I-can’t...”
“Don’t worry, Scully.  Aim for that rise just ahead.”  He

placed his hands on hers and helped her maintain control of the tilting plane while underneath them, the ice began to liquefy.

They reached the top of the rise, the plane plowing roughly

through the soft snow before finally coming to rest.

Scully eased herself out of her seat and checked her body

for injury. Finding none, she reached over to Mulder and checked him for broken bones.

“Ugh.”  he mumbled as her hands explored his prone body,

then opened his eyes. Seeing her close, he managed to murmur with a twinkle in his eyes, “Scully. I was having to most interesting dream…”

Scully swatted him with her gloves and smiled at him, too

exhausted formulate a proper retort. Looking out the plane window, Scully could see a surging aqua-blue river flowing past the embankment they had landed on.

“Do you think we’re safe up here Mulder?”  she asked,

worried that the rise they were resting on would soon get washed away.

“It doesn’t matter, Scully.  Look!”  Scully followed

Mulder’s pointing finger and could just make out the small black forms of helicopters on the horizon.

“Amazing.  How did they know?”
“They’re probably after me.  I didn’t exactly ‘go by the

book’ to find you.” Mulder replied, reaching for the radio as it crackled to life. “This is Special Agent Mulder and Special Agent Scully issuing a general distress call, over?”

The radio buzzed and a voice replied, “We have you

sighted, Agent Mulder, Agent Scully. Please exit the airplane and

be prepared for evac.”

“We’re pretty happy to see you guys.  How did you know

we’d be out here?”

“Agent Mulder, we were scrambled to intercept you as soon

as we discovered your arrival at Doolittle. Now you have just witnessed the destruction of a massive area of government property. Someone has to be held accountable, over.”

Mulder just gaped in astonishment as Scully took the

handset from him. “We copy that, out.” She placed a hand on his shoulder and sighed. “Don’t worry Mulder. We’ll work this out somehow.” Shrugging slightly, Dana added bitterly, “They don’t even care about the loss of life, the loss of a scientific discovery of phenomenal proportions. All they are upset about is the loss of some valuable petroleum deposit.”

Mulder nodded slowly, then turned to Scully and stated

without irony, without bitterness, just stating a simple fact, “We finally hit them where it hurts.” Then his eyes softened and he smiled at her gently, a look that Scully knew so well. “This brings to mind the great words of Ripley…”

“ ‘Believe it, or not’ ?”  Scully interrupted with an arched

brow.

“Nooo.  Wrong Ripley.”  Mulder reached into a jacket

pocket and pulled out a small vial that contained an obviously dead and pristine sample of the parasitic worm, and bobbed it up and down in his hand. “ ‘At least you don’t see *them* screwing each other over for a damned percentage.’”

Mulder opened the door on his side, hopped out of the

plane, then held his arms out to help Scully down. She sat for a minute, looking at him with a mixture of awe and annoyance, and something more, then jumped out and promptly knocked him into the snow. “Incredible,“ she breathed close to his startled face, smiling wickedly, “they haven’t got us yet, have they Mulder.”

They could hear the sounds of the approaching choppers,

but Mulder made no attempt to get up. “Believe it or not, Dana,” he said quietly, his eyes glimmering with a new hope and his hands moving to rest lightly on her waist. Through the numbing cold and layers of clothing, Scully felt Mulder give her waist a gentle squeeze, “we’re not finished yet.”

Frostbite

  From: Peggy Mei-Ling Li <madge@uclink.berkeley.edu>
  Date: 16 Sep 1994 07:15:17 GMT    (Page 1 of 1)

I'm sorry for the wierd formatting and punctuation problems this story might have- For some reason, parts one and three came out fine, but the rest are messed up. If anyone out there can help me with this, I'd really appreciate it. I'm doing the same things I've done in the past to post, so I can't figure out what's gone wrong all of the sudden. Email me!

Hope you like(d) it! Thanks, Peggy

/data/webs/external/dokuwiki/data/pages/archive/sf/frostbit.txt · Last modified: 2001/09/18 06:11 by 127.0.0.1

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